Surgery and Recovery

After arriving in Pre Op, I was given a gown, and a numbing cream to rub around my nipple in preparation for the nuclear scan of my lymph nodes. I just waited, and Chuck wasn’t allowed to be in the room. Finally I was taken by wheelchair to the scanning area. I had to sit outside the door and wait while wondering about a needle entering my nipple area and grieving the loss of my breast. I thought I was alone there, but discovered later that Jesus was standing behind the wheelchair. It seems that I waited there forever. I was finally taken into the room, and went onto the table. The injection was not painful, and I was put in many different positions to get the best possible pictures for my surgeon. I was then taken back to Pre Op, and Chuck was able to join me in the room. Not long after, the anesthetist arrived as did the surgeon. Dr. Mc Cuaig told me the nuclear test didn’t work because of scar tissue from the first biopsy. She would try another procedure in the operating room. I was given medication to relax, and I remember being wheeled to the operating room. Surgery is funny because I remember being wheeled to the operating room, and waking up later in the recovery room. My first thought was “it’s gone,” the breast and the cancer. At some point the surgeon came by to give us an update. Blue dye was injected into my breast and massaged to get it up to the sentinel nodes. She was able to identify two nodes, and they were removed for analysis. The nodes were cancer-free. Struggling, I woke up more. I was given juice, and vomited which is normal when I have anesthetic. We were given instruction on how to empty, measure, and clean the two drains coming out of my chest, and Chuck was told to go get the car. I guess I got dressed, but I was dizzy and still don’t remember much detail. They helped me into the wheelchair, and I said I was dizzy. The nurse’s aide was told to push the wheelchair slowly because I was dizzy. We arrived at the van, I got in, and Chuck and I headed home approximately five hours after I went into surgery. When we arrived home, Chuck got the walker out the garage for me to use, and I went in and laid on the sofa. Chuck needed to go to Target to get my pain medication and some ginger ale for me. Our neighbor and friend, Judy, came over and stayed with me while Chuck was gone. I don’t remember going to bed, but I remember waking up thirsty. I didn’t want to wake Chuck up, so I got myself up using the walker. I made to the great room before I lost my balance and fell bringing one of the dining chairs down with me. Chuck later wondered if I fainted, but I remember going down. I think I stayed on the sofa the rest of the night, but I don’t remember. In the morning, I didn’t feel like eating but Chuck said I needed to take a Percocet. I have a low tolerance to medication, so I only took half of the recommended dosage. Everything seemed fine until I need to go the restroom. I felt weak and mentally weird, so Chuck helped me into the master bathroom. I still laugh about Chuck telling not to worry because we have plenty of toilet paper. When I finished, I called Chuck and he helped me to get up. In the process, I ended up on the floor. I thought he had dropped me. Later I discovered that I had fainted. For some reason, Chuck left the room, and I said I was fine. I was just holding on to the framing for the closet door. Next thing I knew, Chuck was back, and I was on the floor. Fainted! I was also nauseous, and lost whatever was in my stomach. It was impossible for me to get off the floor, so Chuck rearranged to the bath rug, and I laid on the floor with my head in the carpeted closet floor and my lower half on the tile floor. I laid there for what seemed like hours. I remember the home nurse calling, and I told Chuck to tell them I was laying on the floor. The home nurse arrived, and said I’d had a reaction to the Percocet. By then I was feeling a little better, and Chuck and the home nurse were able to get me into bed. Later that evening, Karen from church brought food, and we were able to eat for a few days. My drains were removed on Friday, and I returned to work the following Monday. I was off work four weeks. There is no state disability in Arizona, and I had used up all my vacation time. The surgeon said my surgical area was now at sprained ankle stage. I was stiff and sore, and working as a payroll clerk didn’t improved my condition. When I returned to work, I discover that my manager was going on vacation in two weeks, so I needed to learn things that he did that I had yet to learn. I was determined to get everything done that week, and by the end of the week, I was exhausted. I had run on adrenaline the entire week. After one week back at work, I was back at the surgeon’s office because I had painful swelling near the areas where the drains had been located. I had Seromas, and they were drained. She said I may need to come back again for more draining, but when I returned she couldn’t get any liquid, and said it looked like I had some lymphedema. On March 20, I saw my oncologist. Because I had the mastectomy, there was no need for radiation or chemotherapy. I was also given the choice about taking the anti-estrogen medication. My aunt is taking the medication, so I know there are many side effect of the medication. My doctor said a normal woman has a 1 in 8 chance of getting breast cancer, and without taking the medication my chances of getting cancer in my other breast is 1 in 6 or 1 in 7. My surgeon said there wasn’t much difference, and I chose not to decide, so basically decided not to take the medication because I still needed to be able to work. I saw my primary care physician and cried. She couldn’t believe I was working full time so soon. One of her other patients had the same surgery and was still only able to work part time. My doctor said I need to go onto FMLA so I would be able to take time off when needed. I told my employer this and was told “we don’t do that here.” I said I would be happy to have Fridays off because I wasn’t healing properly. Four day workweeks were the normal for the next four weeks. I returned to full time thinking I was doing fine. By the end of May, I was in serious pain. I discovered I was using my muscles incorrectly because of the surgery and my job. My Pectoral Minor was doing the work for the Pectoral Major, and what I thought was surgical pain was the muscle underneath. It wouldn’t improve without help. God’s provision had me see the part time Chiropractor that fills in at my Chiropractor’s office. He is 78 years old, a real character, and one of my good friends. Dr. Nickel had breast cancer when he was younger, and he knows my pain, and where I need adjustment. It was discovered that I had injury to my shoulder muscles from the surgery. We have been working together now for over a year to get my muscles back in shape. Massage was also added, and my rotator cuff is 99% healed as of February, 2015. I spent months trying to work and act normally when I was not normal at all. I would sit at work and stress about how my job was making my arm and shoulder hurt. I was concerned that I was doing more damage. I had been carpooling with my boss since May of 2011. After my surgery, Chris did all of the driving except the weeks he was on vacation. In August of 2014, construction began on the Scottsdale portion of Loop 101, and we lost the large space between the HOV late and the median wall. In Arizona, cars can enter and exit the HOV lanes at any time, so my stress level increased. In December we saw two serious accident occur while driving home. In order to have Christmas Eve off, payroll needed to get three day’s work completed in two days by working overtime. The second day, I had a major anxiety attack at work. Looking back, I can see I’d been having them for a while. I didn’t know what was wrong, I went back to work the day after Christmas and was fine. That was Friday. Monday was my 60th birthday. It was a difficult day for me, because my mom died from cancer when she was 59. I felt guilty for outliving her. I had another anxiety attack. I still didn’t know what was wrong. This time it didn’t end, but continued for several days. I missed work on Tuesday and Wednesday. Thursday was New Year’s Day. By then I knew I was having anxiety attacks. On Friday, I went into work and gave my notice. The following Tuesday, I woke up with another anxiety attack and went to the doctor. She put me back on antidepressants and gave me Xanax. I took a whole Xanax, and went to work Wednesday. I was so tired from the medication, and my boss asked if I would like that day to be my last. I happily said yes. Since that time I was been on a physical, mental, and emotion healing journey. After about three weeks, I was able to go off the Xanax and I grew stronger. In February, I was told my subscapular muscle was finally healed. That muscle had been the problem child for months. I went back to work at a new job at the end of March, and I enjoy this new job. I’m working a temp job as an Administrative Assistant, and for the last two weeks I’ve working part time because of the company’s budget issues. It is now June 28, 2015. I am still on my journey. As I’m finishing this, I’m starting to cry. This has been an assignment from my counselor as a healing tool. I didn’t think I could do this, but it’s done.