Andrea, Rick, and I entered Sloan-Kettering (SK) at 5:45 a.m. right on time. I had no fear, no tension. Inhabiting the "now", I was with those whom I love and trust, and it was a good feeling to know that they surrounded me, in addition to others who knew how today would challenge me. I was taken into the pre-surgical area pretty quickly where I changed into a gown and they started an IV. Andrea and Rick came in, we chatted briefly, and then Andrea came in with me to the anesthesiologist, a lovely young woman.
Andrea has been a golden halo for me. Not oinly is she a solid citizen who has a weide-open heart, but she is a loving wife and a great parent to Shayna, now 14. She has strength and is no one's fool. As I get acquainted her as a grown woman, I can see the very best personality traits from Rick's family shine through her. She can hold boundaries with no regrets or self-doubt, is such a competent professional who is sure of her skills and her knowledge, and I was merely resting in her expertise as we spoke with nurses, doctors, and the other professionals.
Dr. Sachhini came in to speak with us, his quiet demeanor radiating from him, and he did something so tender I was taken aback---he gently chucked me on the chin, a loving and intimate little sharing of body language to acknowledge that he saw me as a human and was there as surgeon and protector.
Then I walked into the surgical suite, put on a hair net, hopped up on the bed(???), and chatted briefly with the anesthesiologist. I asked about my numbers on her monitor, and my usual low blood pressure showed up, something like 99/60. My pulse was 77, and I watched as she injected the sleeping potion into the IV........
I awoke in a heavy fog back in the recovery room, with Dr. Sacchini, Andrea and Rick around me. I heard him say that the serntinel node, which we knew was malignant, was the only obviously cancer-ridden one, and that the others he dissected looked clean. That would be the most favorable outcome I could pray for, although the expanse of future possibilities still leaaves me in such a grey zone that I must learn to live with a big question mark from now on.
The day and night was pretty aweful, with my monitors misfiring and beeping their little hearts out until we all just gave up....IV kept losing the battery, my pulse ox kept dropping below 84, ring ring ring ring ring, forget sleep. Andrea and Rick stayed for a little while and then departed when it became obvious that I was not going home the next day as planned. Technicians maarched in and out, plastic surgeon and surgical fellows trouped in, drains were emptied, I peed successfully early and often so that hurdle was successfully met. Once again, Andrea knew what to ask, how to speak to everyone, and they all responded with openness to her, which no doubt helped me. She and nurse Cory just chatted away, trading war stories, and it added to my sense of security to see how much of an expert at her job she really was. My pulse ox went up and down all day thereafter, and we were all relieved that I was staying another night.
I have not described the procedure nor dealt with the emotional piece. What I will share is that the incision is huge and nasty with large black thread sewn across what used to be my left breast. It reminds me of a Tim Burton movie, sort of like "Coraline"-scary. There are black magic marker lines around my chest to guide them, and big stitches under my armpit which I cannot yet see since I can't raise my left arms without really nasty pain. I was in no hurry to see my "new" chest, and have no particular reason to feel the implant with the magnetic port which will be filled with sasline until I get my own stomach tissue to fill in the breast perhaps within the year. My right breast will have to be reduced in size since they can't "make" restored breasts in my size. I figure a zippy perky little B cup instead of my regular D cup might be fun.....And then I can shop at Victoria's Secret again. Ah, retail therapy, how it does indeed fill the void.
I have two plastic tubes coming out of my left side ending in what appear to be grenades that are attached to a big surgical bra by velcro. I have to empty this lymph fluid tinged with blood until they stop draining, and I manage that by myself now. I and Dr. House are on Vicadin but I feel no rush from it, just cessation of pain and a slight mushy brained feeling.
Erica and I had bought 4 pairs of lovely button-down PJs for me in a huge size which fits over ther hand grenades and makes me feel a bit more normal. I don't feel like having anyone over for a while, nor do I feel like going out into public. Let me stay home and recouperate. I don't feel animated to do work now either, except that I have dived into the "pink ribbon wars" and the history of breast cancer so that I am an aware "consumer". As for SK, I cannot say how much the entire group meant to me. Every person from receptionist to doctors' assistant to the energetic lady who emptied my waste basket impressed me greatly. At the #1 cancer hospital in the country, they are humble and kind and aware of the horrific disease we are all dealing with. My 2 room mates were in for cancerous lymph nodes that popped up years afterr their initial surgeries, so I am now aware that I am on borrowed time. These folks do not scare, infantalize, or talk down to us. I can't imagine the training they must receive. But every one of them were well beyond expectations.
There were no pink teddy bears or ribbons, but there was a white carnation in a little vase delivered Friday night as the result of a bequest of someone. With it was as list of activities for those who are "long term patients" which i did not care to lerarn more about.
At 4 pm a woman in a formal waiter's uniform came around with coffee or tea in sweet little china cups and 3 of the yummiest and most sinful cookies. The meals were unbelievably top-notch, served whenever I felt hungry, from 7 am thru 8 pm, and then whenever I needed it, which I did not. The top chef had won a TV cooking competition, which I thought was random and exciting at the same time.
I came home Saturday and got to figure out how to sleep in my bed with the pain and 2 drains on my left side. It hurt! So I flipped over on my right side and my left side hurt again. The best condition was straight flat on my back and not moving much at all.
I will haver OT, PT, and visiting nurse service of 2 weeks, and I will have to make due now that Andrea has left for home. I was really really excited to just sit and listen to her talk about her job and her family. She is a great story-teller, and I loved listening to her describe her life. This healing occured on all levels within me, and within our family. Soon I will visit with cousin Lenny whom I've never met before, and he will avise me on my pathology reports.
So how and what am I feeling?
I don't know right now.
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