I look back and now think that the reason why a mastectomy with expanders is worse than two childbirths is because you go through all this pain with nothing physical to hold onto in the end.
When I think back to my son's childbirth I remember the pain of pushing and the pain of recovery. I'm sure my cortisol hormone -- the one that acts in fight and stress -- got involved, but then adrenalin kicked in because I knew I wanted the end product despite the pain. So I saw past the pain like kicking in the final 200 meters or turn of a track race or seeing the finish line in a road race. On a good day when I kick in these races I get excited and I flood with love of the sign 'finish'. I fixate on the sign despite the fact my leg, arm, torso all pull in opposite directions until it feels like the muscles lock up. Hence, the name we affectionately give muscles at the end of a race: booty lock. But booty lock doesn't matter because that sign is there waiting for me. And of course what happens after these antagonistic forces work against what is a superb feeling, love, I get runners high. I only get there when I push past the pain with a heart filled with love. If one is missing -- say pain or love -- then I don't get runners high.
In childbirth I got to hold my son and oxytocin -- the hormone that swells you with good feelings such as love -- made all that pain minimal. Even when I delivered my daughter, who died in utero on her delivery day, it felt wonderful because I got to hold her and a strong dose of love just made all bad things disappear.
With breast cancer surgery I didn't feel anything during the surgery portion like I did with childbirth (due to anesthesia), but going in I felt the flood of love from family and friends pulling for me and lifting me through this. It was spiritual and comforting. So I felt ready and eager to get to the other side, the finish line.
I felt like I got to the surgery finish quickly. I remember going in to surgery room saying 'wow lots of lights. That's good -- I want my surgeon to see well.' I talk nonsense when Im nervous. I then got shaky from the nerves but then I was calm again like I was lullabied by friends and family. Once the nurses inserted meds into my I-V i was out. I was far off in some distant world, dreaming. I don't remember specifics but it was like I dreamt I was in surgery and it was over. That went so well. Oxytocin.
BUT once meds wore off it was like the scene in Hunger Games where the protagonist, Katniss, thought that the battle was over -- all enemies were dead, it was time to go home but then the dead returned as wolves clawing at her up a structure called a cornucopia. Well, without meds it's not far from the truth. Luckily my meds came fast and then I was out fast.
Once I woke up my husband said he wondered how much I was there and not there. He gave me the example of my sister calling. In that conversation he said to my sister "I think she's asleep." and I signed 'no.'
Signing has been so good to me during this hospital stay. Because it felt like I had huge weights putting pressure on my chest and it hurt to breathe -- especially the breathing needed for conversation -- I either didn't sound intelligible due to low volume with my speech or I was approximating my words. It was hard to talk with my voice too because I had a tube in my throat for surgery; soreness in the throat comes from intubation. And because of all the drugs the inner lining of my mouth stuck to my teeth. Signing enabled me to communicate with my husband as interpreter -- once I was passed the puking stage and I was more conscious. Through sign I was able to explain when I needed something or describe my pain to nurses when they did their periodic checkups. They wanted subjective words and number scales. My husband said I would sign "she's going too fast...Have her slow down...I need a transition I can't just roll and sit I need help to first sit then help to slowly roll... Did you see that nurse walk in with her gloves then touch everything in the room -- including her nose-- before touching my iv meds... Please tell her to change her gloves...". Clostridium dificile (c-diff) runs rampant in hospitals and one theory is some health practitioners forget that when they put on those gloves -- it's to keep both patient and practitioner safe from germs. C-diff is nasty and will eat at your intestines. It can kill you, especially if your health is compromised. Unfortunately some nurses gloves touching everything doesn't help. It's not everyone but, as I learned from working in clinical settings, it is a problem especially If they see so many different illnesses during their shifts.
The first 24 hours wasn't easy but it passed. Throughout recovery of day one I felt the antagonistic pain from what felt like a fifty pound weight on my chest and raw skin with alcohol on it. There are two drains on each side and these sting. I remember being wheeled out sounding drunk and trying to say through my slurs 'I feel pain, pain...meds I want meds.' But overall in many ways it was like standing in the ocean waist deep and looking all around me and seeing peace for about two hours then being pulled in the undertow of a wave for two hours. Gradually being pulled under got spaced farther apart to 3 hours, 4 hours and soon 6 hours. It corresponds with medicine wearing off.
Lymph Nodes
The bad news is that I had cancer in my sentinel node so more nodes were removed for the biopsy. This also almost always means the next step is chemotherapy. But I can still be hopeful. Starting monday see all the doctors -- cancer surgeon, reconstruction surgeon, oncologist, radiation therapist. For now I'm not going to dwell on the next phase. I'm going to enjoy this victory of a successful surgery so I don't even want to think about next week until next week.
Going home
The doctors goals for me for today was control pain and walk. Pain was controlled by about 24 hours. Coordinating movements was hard the first 10 hours. I remember looking at a glass of water and in my head telling my arm to reach for it. There was a disconnect. Same with all actions from saying something to swallowing to peeing. But when things came around it happened at an exponential rate. I'll get to go home in the morning in time for the weekend -- and my husband's 40th birthday.
Thank you thank you thank you to my family, friends, community -- I got through this with you!
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