I'm home ... and CANCER FREE!!!!

And this was me leaving the hospital last Friday! Ha, ha.

Actually, this is how I felt once they got me off that foolish liquid diet I was on for a day and a half. Imagine chicken broth, jello, hot tea, and an italian icey for lunch, dinner, and then breakfast again?!?! I threatened to leave the day following surgery if they didn't finally find me some REAL food. It was the highlight of my day when my lunch arrived, consisting of baked chicken, wild rice, zucchini, salad, chocolate cake, and a COKE!!!

Okay, I digress. The surgery went very, very well last week. Dr. D. was able to get good, clean margins around the cancerous breast tissue and the one sentinel lymphnode he had to take from under my armpit was dissected and confirmed that no cancer had spread. I woke up in recovery with much less pain than I anticipated ... just a tight feeling across my chest wall area and soreness on the sides where 2 drains were placed on the left and 1 drain on the right. Dr. Marshall placed tissue expanders where my breasts used to be and inflated them somewhat, but I still don't know how many cc's of saline are in there. I was given a sleeping pill my second night in the hospital, and was apparently "unconscious" when Dr. Marshall came to visit me. She came back very early the following morning to examine my dressings, but I was still a bit out of it from the sleep medication and I just couldn't think of one thing to ask her about the surgery.

By Friday afternoon, I was home in the comforts of my own bed. I think Beijing senses she has to be careful around me ... she sleeps at my feet or at my side, but she hasn't jumped on my chest as she usually does, wagging her tail in excitement, the moment I open my eyes in the morning. She's such a sweet dog!

My week has been fairly uneventful. My pain medication (percocet) which I was taking every 4 hours the first few days would leave me groggy and sleepy. Hence, I spent a lot of time in bed sleeping and watching movies. My mobility and range of motion has improved greatly. I wasn't able to raise my arms the day after my surgery, so I had to be fed by someone. I can now get my arms up at least to shoulder level, so I can feed myself now and do most things that don't require heavy lifting independently. However, I still need my stepmother's assistance to take a sponge bath each day, I am still under orders not to lift anything over 5 lbs., and there is no driving for at least 2 weeks.

Today was my first day out the house. I even left without my smuggled Asian hair for the first time since November! Truthfully, my hair still needs to fill in or thicken up a little more on top as well as at the base of my neck, but after everything I've been through lately ... I frankly just don't really give a sh**. (:-o Oh, but my eyebrows are back (almost overnight) ... and my eyelashes are starting to sprout again too. Here's how I looked today ... FYI, I stuffed my surgical bra with socks (like I was 12) to camouflage the outline of my drains. My parents commented that I must be feeling well, since my vanity is back. LOL. Consider this my first hair update:




I had my first follow-up appointment with my plastic surgeon's office this afternoon and the nurse took 2 of my drains out. It didn't hurt too badly ... just stung a little when she clipped the stitches around them and slowly pulled them out from my sides. I still have one left in where my sentinel node was taken because it's still continuing to drain more than 25 cc's of fluid. In a word, the drains are NASTY, but they help prevent infection by draining extra lymphatic fluid and blood so I am trying to be patient. This last drain will come out next week. I would take a pic to show you, but it's probably really too much information. Basically, the drains have long rubbery tubes that are about 2 feet long and the bulbs on the end that catch the fluid are shaped like grenades. I've been tucking them into my surgical bra so they don't get snagged on anything ... like a doorknob, for example.

I thought I would be more emotional about having the bandages off today and really seeing myself well for the first time, but I was actually quite okay. The worst emotional day in this process so far was probably the day before my surgery. I just couldn't stop thinking about not having my breasts anymore. It also seemed so surreal and frankly unnatural that I was voluntarily driving to the hospital the next day, putting one foot in front of the other, to donate my favorite body parts to science ... or whatever it is they do with approximately 1-2 pounds (?) of breast tissue. The night before my surgery, I had my stepmother take some pics of my boobies ... just so I could remember them and maybe also so I could remember exactly the shape and color of my areolas for my later tattoos. Funny enough, when I saw my breasts on my digital camera, I couldn't help remarking, "Oh. That's what they really look like?? Gee, they're not as hot as I always thought they were afterall." Whoo hoo! LOL. And this wasn't just what I told myself to feel better about things either ... seriously, I never realized my left boob was that much bigger than my right or that it even hung a little lower than the right. In essence, they weren't all that photogenic and as far as any Playboy photo shoots I may have entertained (remotely in my mind, that is) ... that ship had LONG sailed.

So my heavy-duty bandages are off now, but there are steri-strips or surgical tape that remain over my incisions. I will have my first "fill" of the expanders in another 3 weeks ... they want me to heal a little more before injecting more saline. After my appointment with the nurse today, she strongly advised me to meet with the office manager to schedule an implant exchange surgery date. I questioned whether I really needed to do this today, so far ahead of time, given the fact that my tissue expanders will still have to stay in for another 4-6 months. Well, Dr. Marshall is apparently very popular and well-respected because they actually book this far in advance for her surgeries.

The office manager was very matter-of-fact and seemed to be overwhelmed with work because she barely looked at me when she asked me what date in February would I be available for surgery. I didn't think I had her her correctly. FEBRUARY? As in NEXT YEAR FEBRUARY?? Seriously??? She looked at me blankly and said, "Well, you have to have those (expanders) in for 6 months anyway which takes us to December. Dr. Marshall is gone for 2 weeks on vacation and she is solidly booked through January." Now I know I'm not good at math, but I count 4-6 months from May and come up with dates between September and November. This was merely her way of telling me to just forget about it obviously. We already have a family trip planned for my dad's 70th birthday next February ... a cruise that leaves from Buenos Aires, Argentina and we will be away for 3 weeks. Although the implant exchange is an outpatient surgery and takes less recovery time, I cannot have surgery and then recuperate on vacation. So I basically had another emotional meltdown when I was told my surgery date will be March 17, 2008 -- almost another year away before I can finally put this whole thing behind me! (:-( My eyes got glassy ... and then the tears started to flow ... I couldn't get them to stop (sigh). I guess seeing all this caused a little ice to melt in the Ice Princess and she assured me she would flag my appointment so that if there were any cancellations in January, I would have first priority.

I was visibly upset leaving the office, and Dad kept asking me what was wrong. I couldn't speak because I knew I would start crying again, so I just turned away ... walked to the elevator and waited for it to arrive. While we waited, Joan briefly summed up what happened, and Dad's first response was, "So what's wrong with March?" To which I responded, "Just leave me alone, Dad." I knew he didn't get it (not at first) and I just dismissed him as being a man anyway ... why would he understand how important it is to me to have completed new breasts by the end of this year? Haven't I been through enough? (Something I really don't like to ask out loud because I KNOW it could be a whole lot worse.) Nonetheless, my expanders will make me look like I have breasts in clothes, but they will be a lot firmer and less natural than my implants ... and the nipples and tattooed areolas can't even be addressed until I've healed somewhat from the implant exchange. The awkward silence in the car and more time to stare at the passing palm trees eventually calmed me down. I melted even more when my father said, "I just don't like to see you cry. But I can understand how you feel. You have your mind set on something, and then they always seem to change it on you." My father finally understood why everything seems so much more disappointing to me when I'm told I can expect one thing and then the rug is pulled from under me. And he's been a witness to it so many times in just the past few weeks. Joan always knows when to just stay quiet and put her arm around me. My father is ALWAYS well meaning, but most of the time he is what I call a "solutionist" for all my problems ... as most men are ... so if it's on his mind, it is also on his mouth. (smile) I don't think I even shock him anymore by what I say, but I decided this was still the perfect time to announce, "AND I WANT TO HAVE SEX! And I want to be able to enjoy it and feel comfortable with my clothes OFF ... BEFORE NEXT YEAR!" Ha, ha. Well, it's the truth. My father just gave it right back to me though, quipping, "Well, you'll just have to leave your top on." So then I went into my prolonged discourse about why having lots of sex is good for you ... that it releases endorphines and makes you happy. And I deserve to be happy. I know my father thinks I'm kooky ... and admittedly, I do still enjoy trying to shock him like I did when I was 16. We have a different relationship now though, so it doesn't really seem to work the same. Growing up, he always said he wasn't my buddy or my friend, and this wasn't going to be a democracy ... boy, was he wrong!

In any event, I am still hopeful and prayerful that I will get an earlier surgery date. I didn't mind pulling strings initially to get an appointment with my plastic surgeon, but it does makes me feel uncomfortable to lean on her to accommodate me for an earlier surgery date when I know there are so many other people who are in line just like me to get their cosmetic results rolling, just so they can get on with their lives. We'll see what happens.