Today is the first day of the journey - the journey to reconstructive surgery. I say this is a journey because I have a long way to go to be healthy enough to undergo another surgery. I have decided to document this journey in order to have a record of my progress and to encourage others who may be undergoing the same or similar journeys. This journey is going to be an emotional one, so I hope you brought along a box of tissues.
Let's start with the diagnosis: Stage 2 breast cancer. I don't remember the rest of the diagnosis, but I do remember being surprised since there is no history of breast cancer in my family. This was April 9, 2009. I remember that date well as it was my mom's birthday, after which I was informed to never give her another birthday present. I guess that means she wasn't too happy with my gift to her that year. Oh well.
Things moved so fast after I was given the news that I didn't even have time to process what I was told. Before I knew it I was in surgery. I have to back it up just a bit before I can move forward. Two months before I was diagnosed with breast cancer my doctors thought I had ovarian cancer. I was doubling over in pain at work. I went to the doctor and had an x-ray done. This showed an enlargement of my ovary. They needed a MRI to take a closer look. This revealed a tumor ON my ovary, NOT the ovary itself. I had to have surgery to remove it and, since I had already had multiple surgeries using the same site, I had to undergo abdominoplasty. Almost two weeks later, on February 14, 2009, I was rushed to the ER because I couldn't breathe. I had a blood clot in my right lung. I had to give myself shots of Lovenox and take Coumadin orally in an attempt to thin my blood. Apparently my blood runs very thick because after weeks of increasing my dosage to reach the level they wanted me to be at (which we never did) I was told they couldn't increase it anymore. I was at the maximum dose. Fortunately, it was enough to get rid of the blood clot.
Now, let's take a leap forward, back to the surgery. Since I couldn't be on blood thinners for surgery I was switched to heparin drips. After the surgery, and before I could be released home, I had to get back on the Coumadin and raise my levels again. Again, the Coumadin couldn't work alone. After couple of days of trial and error they decided I needed Lovenox shots again. I was to have the shot and be released the next day. I guess I wasn't really ready to go home yet. During the night I woke up to go to the bathroom. While I was standing at the sink washing my hands I noticed something on the side of my gown. There was a large blood spot at least the size of a dinner plate. I looked at my bed and it was also covered in blood. I don't know if it was the sight of the blood or the amount of blood I had lost, but I became very lightheaded. I called for the nurse. The source of the bleed was my drainage port. The nurse helped me to get cleaned up and back to bed. But, just a couple hours later I woke up in a pool of blood again. This time I was lightheaded because I had lost so much blood. They contacted my doctor. When she saw what was happening she ordered a drain. After she was done suctioning the blood from my body I had lost over 3 pints of blood. I couldn't just stop at that. That would have been boring. It was also discovered that I had a staphylococcus infection. This was caused by bacteria on the outside of my body entering my blood through the bleed. I now had the honor of taking IV antibiotics. Because I had lost so much blood they also wanted to transfuse me. I begged for other options. I had heard horror stories from blood transfusions (after all, I was a medical transcriptionist for over five years). The only other option was IV iron, but this was a long shot. I was willing to try. Oh, did I mention I was the comedienne for the floor I was on? During my transfusion I told them I could taste walnut brownies. That was new to them. Everyone else claimed to have a metal taste in their mouth. So, after dinner that night, guess what they sent up for dessert. Go ahead, guess. Ha! It was a walnut brownie.
When I was finally released to go home I had been in the hospital for 17 days. No, I did not try to fake illness to stay in the hospital so I could sleep on that comfy sleep number bed. But, I did ask if they would notice me pushing it out of the hospital when I left. I could hide it under my hospital gown. They would never notice.
From the time I was discovered to have a tumor through physical therapy, I had to tell each doctor I consulted with about my past. They all came to the same conclusion. My cancer was caused by stress. Not surprising, they each also told me I needed to get a divorce because my relationship with my husband was going to kill me. That's a story for another time.
Since this story is already long enough, I'm going to skip forward a couple years. In December of 2010 my husband decided he couldn't handle our life. He walked out, leaving me and the kids to pick up the pieces of our already broken life. This was the REAL beginning of my journey as I had been diagnosed with fibromyalgia and arthritis. It was going to be a long road back to any semblance of a normal life. Since that time, another story for another time, I found a job that I love, moved into a house that I love, and I am happily divorced. I'm not saying there is no stress in my life now, but it is greatly reduced.
So, today I will begin documenting my progress. I will be taking a before picture to post on my Facebook page and getting my measurements. Strap yourselves in tight and keep your hands and feet inside the car at all times. AND AWAY WE GO!
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