From Surgery to Now

It has been a week and a day since my bilateral mastectomy. Last thing I remember when they were rolling me in last Wednesday morning on the 6th: 

I began feeling anxious and tears were forming in my eyes. I looked at the nurses trying  to calm myself down in my head. Next, I awoke and it was around 12:30 in the afternoon. I was able to mumble some nonsense about how my chest felt like a did a million push ups ( I can barely do 10 on a good day) and then I was out. As quickly as you can flick a light switch, I was coming in and out the remainder of the day. The day was spent in a anesthesia/pain medication daze. 

The second day, Thursday the 7th, was the worst. I could feel the pain. Everything all around from the back to front of my chest was in pain. I needed help sitting up. Walking to and from the bathroom. I had extreme nausea and was experiencing dizziness.

It took me awhile to go pee. It is the strangest feeling to have to go to the bathroom and it won't come out. 

I was on IV antibiotic and a push button for pain, though I was trying to be tougher than I needed to be. My logic was that the pain button wouldn't be at home with me. In my mind, I felt I should just learn to cope with the pain. 

I kept asking the nurses and my mom, who stayed with me at the hospital, 

"Tomorrow will be better? Each day will get better?"

With their reassurance in this I began to tell myself this every morning and evening that passed.

On Friday the 8th, since I wasn't using my button as I should it was decided that I receive my pain medicine via IV. A larger dose was given more spread out. Friday was also the day the physical therapist came to get me out of bed to walk. Partly because I needed to help move the oxygen throughout my body to oxygenate the bruised areas on my chest. The other part I believe is related to some sort of medieval torturing these medical professionals must learn prior to obtaining their degrees. You must force your patient, who is in substantial amounts of pain to, "walk it off!" 

They loose a bit of the compassion when they are forcing you up and out to move around. It is like in the Lego movie when you have good cop and bad cop with the swirl of a cute little Lego head. Same applies when it comes to making you get out of bed at the hospital. Good nurse assures you that you are well, expresses that you need to rest and gives you proper dosage of medicines. Swirl of head and bad nurse is telling you to get out of bed and walk it off!

I did as I was told and walked. It actually felt good to be on my feet and moving around a bit. 

You really don't realize all the muscles required to move your arms and hands/upper torso until you can't use them.

At noon, I had a hyperbaric oxygen treatment. Which I will detail in my next post. It was interesting to say the least. The rest of my Friday was spent resting. After every dose of pain meds I would  experience a bad head rush and then be out like a light. 

Saturday the 9th, I was able to maneuver better on my own. Getting in and out of bed by myself. I needed less pain medicine and walked more. It was true, each day was getting better than the last. Later in the afternoon my doctor released me. Gave me 5 scripts, explained how not to move my arms and gave me a post op appointment.

I was released from the confinement of the hospital to my in laws because my littles were sick and have been well taken care of here with them ever since.

Yesterday, Wednesday the 13th was my post-op with the plastic surgeon. It was there the nurse removed one of my surgical drainage tubes. I took a 1/2  Xanax to prepare for, what I was told by many nurses, would feel discomfort but not pain. Lies!!!! She cut my sutures around the tubing, told me take a deep breathe and hold for a few seconds, and "shanananana!" 

That was literally my reaction. It felt like a rug burn/very stuck tape being ripped from inside my chest cavity. I could feel it clear across the top of my right breast. It was on fire and was indeed more than just discomfort!!! 

First the doctor tells me pre-op that the tubes are the size of spaghetti noodles. Lies! Spaghetti noodles on steroids would be a more accurate statement. Then they tell me I will experience "discomfort"! Lies!!

The one thing I can attest to is that she did it quick and the pain was short lived.

I have to keep my other drain until Monday. The left side is more bruised and swollen. At least I know what to expect come Monday.

Emotionally, I have been a mess quite honestly. My anxiety is very bad because all I have is time to think about what is happening in my life right now. I try to bid my time with sleep, books, movies and writing but that only helps so much. I am strong but even time gets to the strong. Time to wander in my thoughts can be a positive and healing thing but it also can be difficult and sad. With that said, every day does get better! I am still staying positive and trying not to harbor on the possibilities that lie ahead. Just one day at a time works for me. For now anyways. I am hopeful that I am experiencing the worst of all of this now.

Here's to hopeful thinking!

With Love & Hugs,

Heather