Then, the recovery talk and I teared up again, all the while thinking that I didn't want to cry in the office. I know lots of people do, but I didn't want the attention from the nurse and just wanted to get on with it, so I fought them back. I was sad over the 4 week period where I can't move my arms much, or lift anything over 5 pounds. My daughter is over 5 pounds. The thought of not holding her the way I do for 4 weeks. And then to know that when I do, I won't feel it. What if she becomes used to me not holding her? What if she's over it by the time I recover? What if she doesn't understand and I have to look at her sad eyes? It will be hard not being able to do anything for myself. I thought about the day to day tasks I do and what I won't be able to do any more. Like get a cup of water, like heat up some lunch, pluck my eyebrows, shave my pits, put my dirty hair in a pony tail. I think of my husband having to put my hair up, and have memories of the times when my dad was in charge of pony tails if my mom wasn't around. Ouch. So tight, and cockeyed.
So, here's the scoop on surgery. Check in 2 hours before for a dye to be put into my body/lymph nodes. Surgery at noon. Out around 4pm, then 2 hour recovery. That's when I'll see my husband again. He'll be there for a short while, then go home to be with my son. Hopefully home the next day. 6 prescriptions. That's right 6. I had no idea. Plus a pain pump. The amount of pain pills is scary. I went thr0ugh 2 c-sections and a lumpectomy and excisional biopsy with a little percocet. Apparently, none of this compares. My mother had a mastectomy a few years back and didn't take so much as a Tylenol. I have decided she is not human. On top of the meds, there's the option for Dramamine the night before and that morning, and some anti-bruising remedies I can pick up at Whole Foods. Not quite sure what the Dramamine is for. She asked if I get car sick and if I do, then I should take them. Don't think it has anything to do with the car ride, maybe to help with nausea. I may take it just to sleep the night before.
I'll drop my boy off at the bus stop, like any other morning and say goodbye, knowing that when I see him again, everything will have changed.
I cry a lot now. My stress is manifesting itself in crazy irritable mood swings. I go from not standing anyone around me to being so present with my kids that I'm in tears. My husband must know something is up, because I'm not getting the usual "calm down" talks. I think he knows that this is all I can handle. Stress has also manifested itself in unstoppable binges. It's like I'm playing the "How much weight can I gain in a week" game. It sucks. I asked my husband to please do me a favor while I'm laid up, unable to exercise. I asked that he help monitor my sweets intake. Please, bring me a brownie, not the pan. He responded by saying he's going to take my scale away. Let's hope he forgets.
Another day to get through today. Doing last minute preparations. Cleaning, errands, friends over for football and a healthy dose of worrying. I'd like to drink heavily, but since I'm off the ibuprofen until surgery, I better not.
Damn, Beth. I can't believe how strong you are through this. You have no urgency since your LCIS hasn't turned to cancer, and yet you are plowing through this like a woman on a mission. You know it is tough and emotional and it will change your life forever . . . and despite knowing all that, you are committed to going through with it and you are even considering how others, like your daughter will handle it.
ReplyDeleteAlthough we don't know each other, from what I have learned about you, you are incredibly strong and confident and decisive. You also have a lot of self-knowledge and give yourself license to grieve and eat chocolate. It will be tough, but you know it will be tough - you're prepared for that - and you're meeting it head on. Go for it, Beth. You're certainly an inspiration to me.