not telling

Surgery is in 2 weeks, exactly. Can't believe I'm actually having to say "surgery" again. I'm ready, as always. I'm getting so used to this. In trying to explain to people what's going on, I will from now on only explain the stitch to lift my boobies. People don't get the whole changing out of the implants thing. I don't want to sound vain. It's just that this window of opportunity has been opened and I'm taking it while I can. I am unhappy in so many ways (subtly) lately, and this is one. Maybe if I can fix this one, others will follow. I want to be done with this crap, but more than that, I want to be happy with the outcome. It's bad enough losing real breasts, so the replacements should be likeable.

f*ck me

Here we go again. I noticed my breasts slipping down, just a bit. My scar that was more or less centered is creeping upward. I went in to see my PS and turns out I need some crazy quill suture to repair something called the IMF. Can't remember what it stands for, so I just remember it as I M Fucked. The PS had no qualms telling me that this procedure "sucks and hurts a lot because we really need to adhere the skin to the chest wall". Nice. So, here I was ready for a 2-3 day recovery for some nice nipples and I get this. I asked the PA what recovery was like. I always want to know when I can run again, care for my kids, keep house and return to work. I was thinking about a week. One really painful week. Turns out I may be on narcotics for up to THREE weeks. Are you kidding me?

I had been thinking about getting smaller implants cause they were just a tad big for my personality. Then I made peace with them and was just ready to get on with my life. Now that his is thrown at me, I think I'll take another week recovery on top of the three, and go for new implants. So, four weeks again with restrictions and three weeks of pain. Can't wait.

I really can't believe I'm going through this shit again. There is no way around it. Dylan asked why I was so upset and I explained that I had to have surgery again, to which he replied with a worry in his tone "Do you have to mama?" I assured him it was going to be alright, even though I certainly don't feel that way. I have been waiting to get my life back for 10 months now. I have signed up for the Denver half marathon in October which I will most assuredly be walk/running. I'm ok with it I guess, just not what I had planned.

I guess I'll get my life back in 2011.

Content

Content. That's the only word I really have for now. Not extremely happy, but not sad and miserable. Maybe I need a word just a little off the mark of content on the negative side. I'm not calm and at peace, but rather just "here". I can finally say that next month I will have my final implants. I am actually looking forward to surgery and keep telling my baby girl about us being able to watch movies in my bed.

There is not a day that goes by that I don't stop and look at these things in the mirror. So unbelievably weird, and yet, I am used to their presence. I am used to the squarish bulges with scars through the middle. I can't feel anything, but it doesn't bother me like I thought it would. It's not a sad numb, just a numb. Corey pokes at them and we laugh as he asks "did you feel that?" He always ends these escapades with a hug and the reassurance that this will all be over soon and how much he loves me. We laugh at how strange these hard lumps feel on him when we hug.

Just counting down now but not dwelling on it. I've moved on with my life, almost as if nothing ever happened and for that I am thankful. This really will just be a blip on the radar.

yuck

So, I woke up today feeling a bit worse than other mornings. My husband came up to check on me and I was lying sideways, one foot on the stepstool and the rest of me lying on my pillow. I tried to get up and couldn't. He asks "Are you stuck?" With tears in my eyes I nod yes. I swear mornings are the worst. You haven't been on pain pills for many hours, you've been in the same position and you wake up once again to the realization of what has transpired.

My percocet has kicked in and I'm feeling better but didn't make it downstairs today, yet. I have high hopes. I took a quick sponge bath, Corey emptied my drains and I brushed my teeth. These pain pills really leave a carpet residue in your mouth. Now my back is so tight I can't twist. Valium ought to help with that. I'm sick of this. With all of this laying around, I'd rather be productive and read, or write a novel, or organize photos or something. But no, I watch trash tv and spend way too much time on facebook.

Just found out my husbands car needs MORE work. I don't fucking need this. I need a money tree. At least my procedure was only $205 minus the meds because of my out of pocket limit.

Trying to find the good today. I'd cry, but it hurts.

trudging right along

Not much new, but I guess I'm feeling better, a bit. The mornings are the worst. You wake up, lie there, and think about the pain you're going to feel, just to sit up. The first thing I want to do is brush my teeth and wash my face. Then coffee and back in bed and wait for my nurse (aka husband) to count out my meds. I'm even able to drain my drains by myself. Anxiously waiting for the day those damn things come out. I highly recommend buying a camisole with the pockets for the drains. I think mine came from Nordstrom online made by Amoena. My pain pump is empty and has been for days. It was supposed to last for 4-5 days. This is different than the one in the hospital with the button. I called my Dr. to see if I can come by today to have it removed. One less "thing" hanging out of me. I'm supposed to be able to take it out myself, but there's such a mess of tubes and gauze and I don't know what's what. I'll also beg to take me out of this mean little bra.

Emotionally, still staying strong. I guess for now the pain and maintenance of me has overshadowed any feelings. Part of me also thinks that I went through so much before the procedure, that there will be less now, let's hope. Caught a glimpse of my boobs. They weren't able to put any saline in the expanders yet cause there just wasn't enough skin to work with. They had to remove my biopsy scar along with the skin. Although they're bruised and look like they've been in a bar brawl, they look nice, the shape. They're not gruesome.

I'm able to do more with my arms than expected. Moving my arms doesn't hurt. Hugging my baby girl doesn't hurt. She can sit carefully in my lap and went to bed with me the other nigtht. Yes, I go to bed at 8pm these days. Making it day by day. Just heard from the Dr. that I can go in and have them pull out my pain pump, and possibly my drains (although not likely) and hopefully this torture device they call a compression bra.

I'm back.... and on drugs

I made it. It hurts. The pain is so immense and nothing anyone can prepare you for. Here's a quick breakdown of my journey.

The morning of the surgery I was incredibly pissy, crabby, grumpy, depressed. I would have wished for sad. Sad I get. Sad has a tangibility to it, depression does not. The radioactive junk they put into my breast to check my lymphnodes did not hurt. Thought that may be an indication of how well I handle pain. Not so much. Many many talks from nurses, doctors, anesthesiologists etc. They each make you say out loud what you're having done. By the last guy, it was like password and he'd say "and today we're doing..." and wait for me to answer "and on the left side she's going to..."

Then into the operating room My gown was on backward so I had to switch to a new one "a bit on the naked side" says my PS. That's the last thing I remember. Woke up in recovery crying. The pain, oh my God, the pain. It felt like someone parked at semi truck on my ribs. Couldn't get a deep breath. Then I was told us use my pain pump. Ahh, a little better. Slept well and used my pain pump about every 1-2 hours although they said I could use it every 10 minutes. The next day they took away my pump and started the percocet. I have never taken more than 1 at a time before but quickly learned 1 was not enough. I am now on 2 every 4 hours along with valium as allowed. Much much better. I have a stupid incredibly tight bra on which will remain on for a week. They had to remove extra skin and so there is no saline in my expanders yet. No biggie, just a longer pump up time. I sleep a lot. A lot. I've been in tears over the pain a few times but have learned to stay on the percocet. My wonderful husband has it all planned out. With all these meds, you have to have a plan. I have 6 bouquets of flowers. So beautiful and reminds me I'm loved. I love love love nurses. I can't say enough. What a selfless job.

Falling asleep now... Hope I didn't scare you Kelly, http://kellyinmotion.blogspot.com.

Looking Forward

Two more days. The anticipation is killing me. Not sure if I can use that word, since it's not anticipation like, "Oh goody, Christmas will be here soon!" but it feels like anticipation nonetheless. I've begun planning to get my life back. It's what I do. Things may change or not go according to plan, but if I have no plan, I have nothing. I took my big dog for a walk. Usually it's a run, but today it was a walk. I told him December 11th, I'll start walking him again. January 1st, we'll start running again, slowly. January 1st I'll start planning my races for the year, hoping a 10 mile in June is not too much to hope for. Hoping I can run with those damn plastic balloons in my chest.

December 1st we'll get a visit from the Elf on a Shelf. After Thanksgiving, we'll decorate for Christmas although I'll be not much more than a spectator. Early December, I'll wrap presents. I've almost finished my shopping.

I'm thinking December 11th is the magic number. Just get through these 4 weeks after surgery and enjoy not getting up early to run in the cold. Enjoy the quiet time I'll have after I'm feeling a bit better, but still unable to do much. Catch up on my reading. Get psyched for getting in shape again. Get psyched for perky boobs that may actually match in size. OK, that one I'm still having a tough time with, but trying to remain on the positive side.

Get through the first few days of undeniable pain. Get through the first 2 weeks with the damn drains in. Anticipate my shower in 2 weeks. Then slowly, slowly rebuild.

It's not cancer, but...

I have been dealing with a family history of breast cancer and what that means to me for a very long time now. I somehow knew something would happen, and it did. I have been diagnosed with LCIS. Lobular carcinoma in situ. Of course the first time the doctor called and told me what they found through my oh so uncomfortable core needle biopsy, all I heard was carcinoma. Turns out LCIS is merely a cancer indicator or cancer stage 0, as some would call it. Not a concern in itself. However, given my family history, and the fact that a later surgical biopsy found the LCIS has saturated the entire area, causes more concern, or so my surgeon states. I now have the daunting task of deciding future treatment for myself. At this point I think my options are prophylactic bi-lateral mastectomy with reconstructive surgery and a wait and see approach. Wait and see approach means MRIs, ultrasounds, mammograms and possible future biopsies. In my opinion, seems like a whole lot of waiting and searching for the inevitable cancer.