chocolate

going downstairs for some chocolate, a hug from my daughter, and a nap. It's the little things.

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.

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.