Good stuff

In the midst of all this crap, I feel the need to point out the good, there is so much of it.

1- nurses. Angels if you ask me. It's like many "moms" taking care of you. Nothing phases them, nothing is too much to ask, and they call me honey all the time. Some people don't like being called honey, but in this situation, I do.

2- My husband. He has taken this whole thing head on. I can tell it's a lot for him but he's a trooper. The laundry, the kids, my medication chart, getting me water, etc. I love him. And after him having to take me to pee at the hospital, I promised I wouldn't always do that.

3- My sister for keeping my daughter and little dog during this whole thing.

4- My kids who want to be with me, in this bed, all the time. Even though I'd rather be alone a lot of the time, it means so much that they just want to be near. They're being so careful around me. When I first got home, my son sent me an email right then and there about how much he loves me and changed my wallpaper on my new laptop to a big heart that says I love you.

5- My parents, stepping in to help with the kids and to visit and love me.

6- All of the amazing support from friends and neighbors. I'm over whelmed and words will never express the gratitude I feel.

7- My dogs who won't leave my side.

8-homemade cookies from my sister

9-fruit bouquet and so many, so many incredible flower arrangements. I love flowers.

I could go on and on, but thought I'd start there before I fall asleep again.

It is all going to be ok.

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.

Pre Op Appointment

Had my pre-op appointment with the plastic surgeon Thursday. A lot of information to take in. Tears collected in my eyes as she explained in detail how my surgeon would start on one side, then move to the other, while my plastic surgeon began on the first side. A 4 hour process. I pictured me lying there, with someone removing the part of me that is my breasts, leaving only skin.

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.

Chocolate

Can't stop eating chocolate. This is not unusual for me, but more pronounced today. I'm not going to even count how many little Hershey yummy nuggets I've had. I'll stop when I feel sick.

stopped running

So, I've stopped running. Not intentionally necessarily, but stopped nonetheless. I felt weeks ago that I wanted to stop because what's the point? I mean really, I have to stop for the next 2 months anyway, so what's a few more weeks. I have to start over again in January, no matter how fast I plow through a 3 miler, or if I run a 10. Mentally, it's one less thing on my plate. I ran last week, not a ton, but 3 days worth. Mostly for my calorie counts since we all know breaking any speed records is moot. This week turned out to be way too crazy and I can barely handle the chaos that has settled into my house. We have a lovely foster dog. I love love love her, but chaos prevails and can't figure out, or don't have the energy to figure out, how to run with one dog, while leaving the other home. Sure, sounds easy enough, but this week everything is harder. I seem so with it, so positive, but it's taking its toll in little ways. I cry at anything. I am more frustrated with things. I am so overly stressed about the littlest things and my list making is helping only a little as it grows and grows. So much to do before Wednesday. I know I'm in denial. I am scared for the moment I wake from surgery and say "What the FUCK!" Or for the moment weeks later when it hits. Oh God, I don't know if I can handle this. Please help me through.

Next week

I can now say "I'm having a mastectomy next week". Wow. Next week. Getting a little nervous. Still good though, still in control.