The Big Reveal

The Next Few Days – Saturday, Sunday, and Monday

Randy and I are very good at following doctor’s instructions, so when we were told to take the bandages off the morning after the surgery, we did. He wanted me to sit down so if I couldn’t take it, I’d be closer to the floor. Honestly, I felt the same way about him. I could imagine us both sitting on the floor in the bathroom leaning against the cabinets as the bandages came off. But that’s not what happened.

I stood facing him. He kissed me on the forehead. I smiled. We had to remove the medium sized camisole downward over my hips and onto the floor because raising my arms was out of the question. He tried to unwrap the bandage, but found it had been stapled together. And the staples didn’t come out easily, so he had to go looking for his tools to pull them out without damaging his patient. Once the staples were removed, it was much easier.

When it was off, he never even flinched. He never made any indication that it was awful or that I was less beautiful to him or that he couldn’t take it. He just held me while I looked in the mirror. I have seen pictures of mastectomy scars so I knew what to expect, but that was someone else – someplace else. Two horizontal lines of sutures are on each side of my breast bone. Under each armpit is a tube held in with stitches. At the end of each tube is a bulb. These are drains (and they are a pain in the ass). I tried to remember what was there a short 24 hours ago, but that memory is gone. I am looking at my new reality and I really don’t much like it. My skin is not smooth, it’s lumpy and bumpy. The surgeon kept as much skin as possible so I could have them reconstructed. I take a deep breath, let the image soak into my brain, and asked Randy to help me put the camisole back.

The next day, I took my first shower. Best shower ever! Randy taped up the tubes so they wouldn’t dangle and I stepped into the warm flow of water. Never underestimate the healing power of water. It felt so good to have all that surgery washed off me. I touched my new self and washed gently.  We dried me off and got me dressed.

We have had a steady delivery of food from friends and family. People who love me and just want to see me or talk to me so they know I'm loved. It's a wonderful feeling having all these people in my life. I don't like Tucson much, never have. I've wanted to leave for a while now. But we've done the cancer thing alone and we've done it with friends and family nearby. I much prefer being near those who love us. Thank you all so very much.
 

Randy and I talked about the surgery center. We both felt they let me go too soon. I don’t remember getting dressed. I was still very out of it for a while. But they felt it was the time for me to leave and I have had no unhappy incidents since. All in all, I felt rushed and part of that assembly line surgery that has taken over the nation in hopes of saving a buck. Did I suffer because of the rush? No. Was I happier at home in my own bed? Yes. So, why am I bitching? I don’t like being rushed. I do like being cared for. I seem to think that when you are sick, you should be nurtured by people who know how to do that. Kind of selfish of me, but it’s the way I am.

My husband of 39 years has been a real trooper. Like he says “I loved your boobies, right up until the time they turned on you. Then, it was okay for them to go.”

We don’t know what will happen next. Hopefully, the lymph nodes will be clean and I can move onto getting new, bigger boobs. I’m just so ready for this cancer chapter of my life to be done. But I have no control over that. I just have to trust.