Somehow in the last two weeks, I have lost my center. I went into the surgery centered, whole and feeling able to handle whatever happened. I don't feel that way anymore. I'm anxious, flitting from one thing to the next and not coping all that well. I am certainly not prepared to start chemotherapy. So how do I get back to being centered before chemo starts? How do I start off the New Year in a positive and optimistic frame of mind? These are life issues not cancer issues. But I have decided that pain killers certainly impact the thought process and I think they are derailing me.
I feel like there is no road map for how to recover. The nurses keep saying it is a very individual process. Some folks take pain killers for one day and not again. Some are in pain for a month. I certainly thought I would be the one day kind of pain killer person. It might be I am in pain for a month.
My meditations seem not to be able to help me relax and move away from the pain. Every morning, before every afternoon nap and every night I spend 10 minutes chanting to myself:
May I be filled with loving kindness
May I be well
May I be peaceful and at ease
May I be happy. **
More often than ever before, I find myself swept away in destructive thoughts. I "should" myself. I "should" be feeling better. I "should" have less pain. I "shouldn't" be nauseous for no reason.
I called my friend, C. As a breast cancer survivor, with the same surgical and oncology team, she holds my hand (figuratively) when I am scared and don't know if what I am going through is typical. Should I be working harder at getting mobility back? Am I a wimp for needing pain killers still? C had the best suggestion. Try a balance pose to get back my centered self. I must have been leaning that direction, because even before I talked to her I started yoga. But I didn't think to do balance poses. I started those this morning with my morning exercises.
The simplest balance pose is Tree. You stand up straight. Then you take one leg and put it on your other leg, anywhere from on your calf to your upper thigh (just not on your knee). Then you put your hands into prayer position in front of your chest. Keep your head up, eyes open and focused on one point in front of you to help you balance. Breathe. I try to take 5 relaxed breaths. After a while you do the other leg. Repeat on both sides. I can tell when I am getting back to center because I am not wobbling all over. After the first round, I found a little bit of my center and relaxed. There is a way through the pain. I will find it.
I know that I can be happy no matter how tough the circumstances. I want to get off the pain killers so I can get back to being centered and whole. So today I will do my yoga and special stretches twice. I will be centered enough and focus on other parts of my life besides pain.
Ken is taking me out for a very early New Year's Eve dinner. I celebrate going outside and breathing air. I celebrate a new year is beginning. I am grateful for my caring family and very supportive friends. I pray that we all have a healthy and prosperous 2010. A new decade. Happy New Year.
**I am sorry in my last post of this mantra I omitted to mention that this is from Jack Kornfield's book "A Path with Heart: A Guide Through the Perils and Promises of Spiritual Life"
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Post- Surgical Routine (or what am I doing now?)
I must be better because I am bored.
My days have settled into a post-surgical routine. I get up, take my pain pill and dive for coffee, as always. The coffee I mean not the pain pill. Though, when I wake up it has usually been 8 or 9 hours since my last pain pill so I dive for the pain pill too.
My breakfast is very different than my pre-surgical breakfast. I used to eat Greek yogurt (for the protein), 1/2 banana, and twigs (high fiber cereal). Now I have a couple of crackers or Ken's banana bread and that helps with the chronic nausea that I have. This morning I read all about the great hairstyles for 2010, with chemo I will be missing those. I ordered some chemo scarves off the internet.
Then I sit, read the paper, read a few emails, check for comments on my blog, and call my mother. Then I read some more. By now it is noon, as soon as I start wandering around the apartment I figure that I am probably hungry. So I heat up or nibble on some of the food that people generously sent. People send lots of food when you are sick. Thank goodness for the ravenous 16 year old. The half of sandwich or couple ounces of meat and left over vegetables or fruit I eat would leave enough food for the next century.
Every day I try to take a nap right in the afternoon. Late afternoon, I shower, which is my big excitement for the day. I can now wash my own hair. Then I read some more. We eat dinner. After dinner, we watch movies or DVD's from friends. Then more reading and off to bed.
Christmas Eve I didn't get a nap in and I sat holding my face in my hands at the dinner table at 7:30 p.m. I napped until 9:30 and then I anxiously sat in my chair waiting for Santa. I finally went to sleep after 1 a.m. and somehow still missed him.
Sometime throughout the day, now that I am feeling better, a couple of times I day, I try and stretch my shoulders and arms. I do gentle lifts from a list 8 pages long from the hospital. I was supposed to start these day two. Day two I couldn't even stand up. Let alone stand up, do these 6 stretches five to seven times each (repeat for both sides), lay down and do these 3 stretches five to seven times each, then sit and do these 3 stretches five to seven times each. Even now I do 2 or 3 a few times each day. I can feel how much time and effort full mobility in my shoulders and arms is going to take. I know I need to start working on it more. I long for the return of my natural flexibility.
This is the small work of surgery recovery. Time for my nap.
My days have settled into a post-surgical routine. I get up, take my pain pill and dive for coffee, as always. The coffee I mean not the pain pill. Though, when I wake up it has usually been 8 or 9 hours since my last pain pill so I dive for the pain pill too.
My breakfast is very different than my pre-surgical breakfast. I used to eat Greek yogurt (for the protein), 1/2 banana, and twigs (high fiber cereal). Now I have a couple of crackers or Ken's banana bread and that helps with the chronic nausea that I have. This morning I read all about the great hairstyles for 2010, with chemo I will be missing those. I ordered some chemo scarves off the internet.
Then I sit, read the paper, read a few emails, check for comments on my blog, and call my mother. Then I read some more. By now it is noon, as soon as I start wandering around the apartment I figure that I am probably hungry. So I heat up or nibble on some of the food that people generously sent. People send lots of food when you are sick. Thank goodness for the ravenous 16 year old. The half of sandwich or couple ounces of meat and left over vegetables or fruit I eat would leave enough food for the next century.
Every day I try to take a nap right in the afternoon. Late afternoon, I shower, which is my big excitement for the day. I can now wash my own hair. Then I read some more. We eat dinner. After dinner, we watch movies or DVD's from friends. Then more reading and off to bed.
Christmas Eve I didn't get a nap in and I sat holding my face in my hands at the dinner table at 7:30 p.m. I napped until 9:30 and then I anxiously sat in my chair waiting for Santa. I finally went to sleep after 1 a.m. and somehow still missed him.
Sometime throughout the day, now that I am feeling better, a couple of times I day, I try and stretch my shoulders and arms. I do gentle lifts from a list 8 pages long from the hospital. I was supposed to start these day two. Day two I couldn't even stand up. Let alone stand up, do these 6 stretches five to seven times each (repeat for both sides), lay down and do these 3 stretches five to seven times each, then sit and do these 3 stretches five to seven times each. Even now I do 2 or 3 a few times each day. I can feel how much time and effort full mobility in my shoulders and arms is going to take. I know I need to start working on it more. I long for the return of my natural flexibility.
This is the small work of surgery recovery. Time for my nap.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Unbelievable
I listened to a speaker once and his name was Boaz. Boaz taught many things but his one phrase that keeps repeating through my head today is "unbelievable". Boaz taught us you should answer when someone asks how you are, "unbelievable." How was my day? "Well, unbelievable."
It started with my doctor saying, "in the 1000's of cases I have done I have never seen this" and "your case is very interesting". I have decided you never want to be interesting to your doctor.
One, they found cancer in my left breast. Not a lot; 3 mm of cancer in the skin under my left nipple. Some of you, who have been paying attention will know that they were concerned that I might have cancer under the nipple in my right breast (where they wanted to do another biopsy). I did not have cancer under that nipple. I had invasive ductal cancer and lobular cancer in situ under my left nipple.
It was not found on the MRI, not found on the mammography, and not found on ultrasound. Go figure. Very unusual to have prophylactic surgery on an innocent breast and find cancer. The good news is that I have had it all removed by having the bilateral mastectomy and saved myself from a potential future bout with breast cancer in my other breast. It is a joy to think I will NEVER look back and think, gee should I have gone with a lumpectomy? I made the right decision to have the bilateral mastectomy. Unbelievable.
The second thing we found today is that upon further review (meaning freezing, slicing, dicing and staining) one of my lymph nodes of the 5 that they removed from my right side was cancerous. Because it was very small it is called a micrometastatic node. Any node involvement changes the game in cancer (even if it is .5 mm.) So although Ken was told after surgery that I was lymph node negative I am not. I am lymph node positive. Unbelievable.
I have Stage 2 Breast Cancer and will need Chemotherapy. If they need to remove more lymph nodes that will happen first, then I will have chemotherapy at least 4 times. Once every three weeks for 12 weeks. We had hoped that today I would get news that I might not need chemotherapy but that there was one more test they wanted to run. But we got different news. My fight will take longer.
Unbelievable. See how well that fits?
For now, I am going to rest up, enjoy the glorious freedom since they took my drains out today. I'll spend the holidays here at home and renew my spirit. I'll let you know what is happening as soon as the reality steps in and things become more believable.
It started with my doctor saying, "in the 1000's of cases I have done I have never seen this" and "your case is very interesting". I have decided you never want to be interesting to your doctor.
One, they found cancer in my left breast. Not a lot; 3 mm of cancer in the skin under my left nipple. Some of you, who have been paying attention will know that they were concerned that I might have cancer under the nipple in my right breast (where they wanted to do another biopsy). I did not have cancer under that nipple. I had invasive ductal cancer and lobular cancer in situ under my left nipple.
It was not found on the MRI, not found on the mammography, and not found on ultrasound. Go figure. Very unusual to have prophylactic surgery on an innocent breast and find cancer. The good news is that I have had it all removed by having the bilateral mastectomy and saved myself from a potential future bout with breast cancer in my other breast. It is a joy to think I will NEVER look back and think, gee should I have gone with a lumpectomy? I made the right decision to have the bilateral mastectomy. Unbelievable.
The second thing we found today is that upon further review (meaning freezing, slicing, dicing and staining) one of my lymph nodes of the 5 that they removed from my right side was cancerous. Because it was very small it is called a micrometastatic node. Any node involvement changes the game in cancer (even if it is .5 mm.) So although Ken was told after surgery that I was lymph node negative I am not. I am lymph node positive. Unbelievable.
I have Stage 2 Breast Cancer and will need Chemotherapy. If they need to remove more lymph nodes that will happen first, then I will have chemotherapy at least 4 times. Once every three weeks for 12 weeks. We had hoped that today I would get news that I might not need chemotherapy but that there was one more test they wanted to run. But we got different news. My fight will take longer.
Unbelievable. See how well that fits?
For now, I am going to rest up, enjoy the glorious freedom since they took my drains out today. I'll spend the holidays here at home and renew my spirit. I'll let you know what is happening as soon as the reality steps in and things become more believable.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Tuesday is the next step ...
I really want to ask both the surgeons which is the one responsible for making the front of my body look like it was crushed by a panini press. Heck, I even practically have what could pass for griddle marks around the edges. I suggested this to the surgeon when he called and checked on me over the phone and he said, "Now, there's an image". He then when on to say, "well, it's really early." I'm just not sure how you can get from having this look to anything that resembles normal. But like he said, it's early. And it's the Plastic Surgeons job to do, so Dr B skates.
Not that everyone thinks that I look that bad, I have showed off my chest and scars to three good friends (all right very good friends). One of whom I even had touch the edges to feel the massive heat my body is generating through the healing process. All of them think it looks great. But they might be humoring me. And I might be on too much Vicodin to know the difference. I really think they are all impressed that there aren't massive stitches and scars.
Tuesday I get my chance to ask questions. I also would like to run into the Anesthesiology fellow. For her I would just like to do a little show and tell. She was very quick to tell me that she was great with a needle and she wouldn't bruise me. I'd like to show her the back of my left hand which is still totally purple and the lumpy hematoma in my arm from where she put the IV.
I hope I have the stamina to last through four doctors appointments. The first is with the Surgical Oncologists at 8:20. Then I see the first General Oncologist at 10 a.m. Then a follow up with the Plastic Surgeon at 11:45 a.m. Then another General Oncologist at 2 p.m.
The Surgical Oncologist will give me the pathology results from the surgery. I am not sure what that really means but we will find out. The General Oncologists will have built a plan around the rest of my cancer treatment from those pathology reports and they will tell us what they suggest I do next. They will probably run some additional tests. So I don't think we will have all the answers on Tuesday but it will be a start.
During the Plastic Surgeon follow-up he will remove (or his nurse will) as many drains as are ready. At least two out of three should be ready. I hope that three will, but they keep telling me you can't rush these things. If they take out the drains too soon, then they might have to stick needles in to aspirate the area if it swells. That wouldn't be good.
My mission Tuesday is to pick which General Oncologist I like better. Surgeons come and go quickly in your life (you hope) but the General Oncologist will manage my cancer care for the next five years. I have to decide who I like. Luckily Ken will be with me to help listen.
Yesterday (Sunday) and today, I have stayed very quiet. I have been resting as much as I can, reading, watching movies, not even talking much. I have been both healing and saving up the energy for the next phase of this process. I'll let you know how it goes.
Not that everyone thinks that I look that bad, I have showed off my chest and scars to three good friends (all right very good friends). One of whom I even had touch the edges to feel the massive heat my body is generating through the healing process. All of them think it looks great. But they might be humoring me. And I might be on too much Vicodin to know the difference. I really think they are all impressed that there aren't massive stitches and scars.
Tuesday I get my chance to ask questions. I also would like to run into the Anesthesiology fellow. For her I would just like to do a little show and tell. She was very quick to tell me that she was great with a needle and she wouldn't bruise me. I'd like to show her the back of my left hand which is still totally purple and the lumpy hematoma in my arm from where she put the IV.
I hope I have the stamina to last through four doctors appointments. The first is with the Surgical Oncologists at 8:20. Then I see the first General Oncologist at 10 a.m. Then a follow up with the Plastic Surgeon at 11:45 a.m. Then another General Oncologist at 2 p.m.
The Surgical Oncologist will give me the pathology results from the surgery. I am not sure what that really means but we will find out. The General Oncologists will have built a plan around the rest of my cancer treatment from those pathology reports and they will tell us what they suggest I do next. They will probably run some additional tests. So I don't think we will have all the answers on Tuesday but it will be a start.
During the Plastic Surgeon follow-up he will remove (or his nurse will) as many drains as are ready. At least two out of three should be ready. I hope that three will, but they keep telling me you can't rush these things. If they take out the drains too soon, then they might have to stick needles in to aspirate the area if it swells. That wouldn't be good.
My mission Tuesday is to pick which General Oncologist I like better. Surgeons come and go quickly in your life (you hope) but the General Oncologist will manage my cancer care for the next five years. I have to decide who I like. Luckily Ken will be with me to help listen.
Yesterday (Sunday) and today, I have stayed very quiet. I have been resting as much as I can, reading, watching movies, not even talking much. I have been both healing and saving up the energy for the next phase of this process. I'll let you know how it goes.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Sleeping and yoga dreams
Mornings are tough. Sleeping is very difficult. I have plastic drains coming out of three places in my body (you really don't want to know a lot about those). But because of these I can only sleep perfectly flat on my back. I can't turn or move. So I have yet to get up after being in bed overnight and feel rested. Mostly I get up and I ache. I know sleep is very important to the recuperative process so I take the Vicodin and go to bed. But I feel best after my short naps during the day.
During the naps I don't seem to dream. At night, I feel like I just move from one weird dream to the next. So I woke up this morning from a yoga dream. In my dream, I was doing yoga in this beautiful white, well lit room. I was stretching and I was doing yoga like gymnastics. Walking along a line on the floor. I even did a cartwheel. Certainly not a yoga move. Then I was setting up to do a headstand.
Now, I don't know if any of you have done one lately, but this is how you do a headstand. You make the top two parts of a triangle with your hands, you gently rest the back of your head in the nest of your two hands. Then you lift your body onto your toes and walk them toward your head and hands. This slowly lift your hips over your body in a vertical position. Then you use your core stomach muscles to pull your legs over head one at a time and you hold it for 3-4 minutes. But you have to press ALOT into your arms and use them as leverage to push yourselves up. And it helps to have your arms closer to your ears and head rather than further away. But when you do it. It is blissful. I did one the night before I went into surgery, along with a back bend just to remind myself that I am strong.
I am NOT an expert at headstands. I still have to think about every body part. I did one successfully without help for the first time in the last month.
So, I am not sure why I was dreaming of doing yoga or headstands. But what I can tell you is that I felt like I had done the yoga physically when I woke up. Everything in my shoulders and arms hurts a bit more this morning. But it also gave me a sense that I can.
The days go up and down like that. I feel like I can and then I need a nap.
During the naps I don't seem to dream. At night, I feel like I just move from one weird dream to the next. So I woke up this morning from a yoga dream. In my dream, I was doing yoga in this beautiful white, well lit room. I was stretching and I was doing yoga like gymnastics. Walking along a line on the floor. I even did a cartwheel. Certainly not a yoga move. Then I was setting up to do a headstand.
Now, I don't know if any of you have done one lately, but this is how you do a headstand. You make the top two parts of a triangle with your hands, you gently rest the back of your head in the nest of your two hands. Then you lift your body onto your toes and walk them toward your head and hands. This slowly lift your hips over your body in a vertical position. Then you use your core stomach muscles to pull your legs over head one at a time and you hold it for 3-4 minutes. But you have to press ALOT into your arms and use them as leverage to push yourselves up. And it helps to have your arms closer to your ears and head rather than further away. But when you do it. It is blissful. I did one the night before I went into surgery, along with a back bend just to remind myself that I am strong.
I am NOT an expert at headstands. I still have to think about every body part. I did one successfully without help for the first time in the last month.
So, I am not sure why I was dreaming of doing yoga or headstands. But what I can tell you is that I felt like I had done the yoga physically when I woke up. Everything in my shoulders and arms hurts a bit more this morning. But it also gave me a sense that I can.
The days go up and down like that. I feel like I can and then I need a nap.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Pain Management
Before the surgery, I had told all my doctors I am allergic to Codeine, Vicodin and morphine. They told me I am not allergic as my throat doesn't shut down. I only get hives and super sensitive skin (that can feel like it is crawling). I never knew but now I know, this is only a side effect and not an allergy. Oh joy. So as I was leaving the hospital they have given a prescription for Vicodin and told me to take a Benedryl every time I take one to reduce the risk of hives.
Wednesday is the day that turned out not to work so well.
I have never felt anything like this internal pain. My insides were quivering and shaking. Some of that you could see on the surface. If you asked me what the pain was on a scale of 1 -10, I would say it was a 7. I am the most pain tolerant person I know. One day I had 3 dental crowns put in, that pain was only a 4. Some of the pain was internal and some was that guy that keeps standing on my chest who weighs 200 pounds. My left shoulder was also cramping up and in a full spasm.
I got up desperate Wednesday morning and called our dear friend, Lauren, who is a masseuse and has the most magic warm hands. She came over within hours and spent time just working gently on my shoulder and back. Her gift is her hands, she said. When she worked on me (I sat in a chair) she noticed that they had pen marks on my back. I just keep wondering, what did they do to me while I was out? Immediately, the cramping was gone and my back felt much better.
Finally, I called the doctor at 6 p.m. when I thought I might pass out from the internal pain. The fellow cheerfully informed me that they had only given me 1/2 the normal dose of Vicodin as they thought that might help me not get hives. She immediately suggested that I go take another Vicodin right away and then take 2 tabs every six hours for a couple of days.
I have never been one to believe in drugs. I am into yoga, organic foods, balanced diets and exercise. But let me tell, I now know what Vicodin bliss is. For the moment, I will ignore the weird side effects and the crazy feelings these drugs give and I will enjoy the reduction in pain.
Wednesday is the day that turned out not to work so well.
I have never felt anything like this internal pain. My insides were quivering and shaking. Some of that you could see on the surface. If you asked me what the pain was on a scale of 1 -10, I would say it was a 7. I am the most pain tolerant person I know. One day I had 3 dental crowns put in, that pain was only a 4. Some of the pain was internal and some was that guy that keeps standing on my chest who weighs 200 pounds. My left shoulder was also cramping up and in a full spasm.
I got up desperate Wednesday morning and called our dear friend, Lauren, who is a masseuse and has the most magic warm hands. She came over within hours and spent time just working gently on my shoulder and back. Her gift is her hands, she said. When she worked on me (I sat in a chair) she noticed that they had pen marks on my back. I just keep wondering, what did they do to me while I was out? Immediately, the cramping was gone and my back felt much better.
Finally, I called the doctor at 6 p.m. when I thought I might pass out from the internal pain. The fellow cheerfully informed me that they had only given me 1/2 the normal dose of Vicodin as they thought that might help me not get hives. She immediately suggested that I go take another Vicodin right away and then take 2 tabs every six hours for a couple of days.
I have never been one to believe in drugs. I am into yoga, organic foods, balanced diets and exercise. But let me tell, I now know what Vicodin bliss is. For the moment, I will ignore the weird side effects and the crazy feelings these drugs give and I will enjoy the reduction in pain.
Disclaimer
Ok, I am still awake and just re-read what I wrote. I am on pain killers, I tell you. So, if the last three blog entries make no sense, just wait a few days, I will straighten them out as soon as I get drug free!
Coming Home
I think my health insurance company paid the day nursing assistant on Tuesday so that I would insist on going home. While changing my gown, she pulled on one of the tubes. She bumped my bed. I just about jumped out the window. Then she told me that I needed to calm down.
But the real fact is that I didn't need medical care after the first 12 hours. I need to rest and recover which you can't really do at a hospital. I didn't want to spend another night with people poking me every hour.
In addition, I have a thing about IV's. I'm fine with having them if they are useful. But Tuesday a.m. they took it out but they left the needle part in. Just in case they said. Hospital policy, in case we have to administer medication quickly. I'll tell you after the fiasco with the IV earlier with my hand, if I had staying another night I would have ripped it out with my teeth.
It was hard to get to the car, to get into the apartment. I was walking very slowly. I could tell Ellen had to focus to walk with me. But the best part in the world is sliding into the clean sheets of your own bed. I was momentarily ecstatic. Later the back pain and the weight on my chest showed up.
During that first night, I had drug dreams and every time I woke up I started repeating the mantra I had used all day before surgery. It helped.
My mantra:
May I be filled with loving kindness
May I be well
May be peaceful and at ease
May I be happy
But the real fact is that I didn't need medical care after the first 12 hours. I need to rest and recover which you can't really do at a hospital. I didn't want to spend another night with people poking me every hour.
In addition, I have a thing about IV's. I'm fine with having them if they are useful. But Tuesday a.m. they took it out but they left the needle part in. Just in case they said. Hospital policy, in case we have to administer medication quickly. I'll tell you after the fiasco with the IV earlier with my hand, if I had staying another night I would have ripped it out with my teeth.
It was hard to get to the car, to get into the apartment. I was walking very slowly. I could tell Ellen had to focus to walk with me. But the best part in the world is sliding into the clean sheets of your own bed. I was momentarily ecstatic. Later the back pain and the weight on my chest showed up.
During that first night, I had drug dreams and every time I woke up I started repeating the mantra I had used all day before surgery. It helped.
My mantra:
May I be filled with loving kindness
May I be well
May be peaceful and at ease
May I be happy
Surgery Night
Hospitals are exhausting. it was 3:30 a.m. Remember now, I hadn't eaten or had anything by mouth for 23 hours and the nurse was insisting that I get up and use the bathroom. I looked at her and said, "I don't need to" and thought about throwing a temper tantrum. She said, nicely, that I still had to dangle my legs over the side of my bed. So then I thought, after I got to there, that I might as well, as long as I was up. She said that was what she thought I would do all along. Tricky, these night nurses. Actually both night nurses, Paulina and Maria were wonderful.
Ellen cheered me on, telling me I was strong and doing great. Thank God for Ellen. She fed me ice chips, and talked to me off and on all night. And she did it all looking great. Here I was a disaster and I am looking up at her from my bed and her hair looks just like she got ready and she been asleep on like a nylon sofa futon thing for hours.
I was awake every hour from about 11 p.m. to 6 a.m. then I was up for the day.
Ellen cheered me on, telling me I was strong and doing great. Thank God for Ellen. She fed me ice chips, and talked to me off and on all night. And she did it all looking great. Here I was a disaster and I am looking up at her from my bed and her hair looks just like she got ready and she been asleep on like a nylon sofa futon thing for hours.
I was awake every hour from about 11 p.m. to 6 a.m. then I was up for the day.
Surgery Day
The last thing I remember is being thirsty and the nurse anesthetist saying, this is going to feel like two glasses of wine. Well, I'm not sure what kind of wine she drinks but I remember nothing from that moment forward. It was certainly not like any two glasses of wine I have ever had.
I was in surgery a long time. Three hours for the cancer piece and two hours for the beginning of the reconstruction. I know it was hardest on everyone waiting.
The first thing the surgeon said to Ken and Ellen when he went to talk to them is that I told him a joke as soon as I woke up. They said he was pretty amazed. I think when I woke up they must have been talking about Santa Claus or Tiger Woods because right now that is the only joke I know. So I told it.
Then I remember the recovery room. Ken says the nurses were amused that I was trying to run things. I kept telling them they had to let Ken in to see me (no one is allowed to see you until you get to your room on the floor). I remember being concerned that Ken had to get home to Adam so I am sure they are right, I was trying to get him in. I remember moving over from the operating room bed onto the room bed. I remember having this fleeting thought that my legs were still strong. They let Ken, Chris and Ellen all into my room at the same time. I remember thinking the room was small and feeling like the walls were dark and were closing in on me. Then the feeling went away as I drifted in and out. It turns out the room was lovely. I was just too out of it to know.
I am thrilled that I wasn't sick or nauseous when I woke up. I had talked and talked to the anesthesiologist about how many drugs made me sick. So whatever they did to help manage that worked.
I do remember waking up to this feeling that there is a man who weighs 200 pounds standing on my chest. It still feels like that.
I was in surgery a long time. Three hours for the cancer piece and two hours for the beginning of the reconstruction. I know it was hardest on everyone waiting.
The first thing the surgeon said to Ken and Ellen when he went to talk to them is that I told him a joke as soon as I woke up. They said he was pretty amazed. I think when I woke up they must have been talking about Santa Claus or Tiger Woods because right now that is the only joke I know. So I told it.
Then I remember the recovery room. Ken says the nurses were amused that I was trying to run things. I kept telling them they had to let Ken in to see me (no one is allowed to see you until you get to your room on the floor). I remember being concerned that Ken had to get home to Adam so I am sure they are right, I was trying to get him in. I remember moving over from the operating room bed onto the room bed. I remember having this fleeting thought that my legs were still strong. They let Ken, Chris and Ellen all into my room at the same time. I remember thinking the room was small and feeling like the walls were dark and were closing in on me. Then the feeling went away as I drifted in and out. It turns out the room was lovely. I was just too out of it to know.
I am thrilled that I wasn't sick or nauseous when I woke up. I had talked and talked to the anesthesiologist about how many drugs made me sick. So whatever they did to help manage that worked.
I do remember waking up to this feeling that there is a man who weighs 200 pounds standing on my chest. It still feels like that.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Michele is out of surgery
Michele is resting in her room. Both surgeries went well. Her lymph nodes were negative, which is very good news.
Ken
Ken
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Prepping for Surgery
My surgery time has been changed, it is now 1:15 p.m. on Monday December 14th (moved later). The good news is they will let me get up and have breakfast before 5 a.m. on Monday. Those who know me, know that is fine. I will probably be up anyway. But nothing by mouth after 5 a.m. I am happy, I will get to have my morning coffee so I won't go into surgery with a caffeine withdrawal headache. How did I ever get addicted to caffeine anyway? But this is not the week to try to kick that habit and go through withdrawal.
The schedule has aligned. Monday, Adam is studying chemistry after school and then going to a friend's house to study some more and hopefully not eat them out of house and home. Ken will be with me until I am up in my room which may not be until 8 p.m. or so in the evening. Two close friends will be there that night, one to stay overnight in the hospital with me and one to check in on me.
I have finished what Christmas shopping I am going to do, I have written what cards I am going to send, I have decorated the Christmas tree with decorations. I have let life get smaller. Only the most important ornaments (most made by my grandmother with a few Adam child ones) are on the tree. The cards are for immediate family. The shopping just enough so the tree will have something beneath it that matters to Ken and Adam. Funny movies have arrived on loan from family and friends. When those run out, I have a great list for Netflix.
Work is done. The new sales "guy" (he's from New York, so I think that is ok) starts January 4, 2010. The Christmas party is planned, the gifts for the team bought, the NY Eve celebration organized for those who have to work. For the boards I serve on, I have begged volunteers to pick up my pieces for now.
I went and got a kick-butt hair cut Thursday afternoon. I am not going to sit around and stare at gray, out of control hair. This morning Ken and I went to the club and took a biking class. I felt out of shape and not very strong but I will do it again in the morning because I don't know when I will be able to again.
Tonight, Ken and I are making one of my special comfort meals: steaks (grass fed beef), baked potatoes (with cheese and sour cream of course), broccoli with slices of lemon. Most importantly, Ken is making his special desert; chocolate souffle cake. The best desert on the planet; chocolate cake with a warm gooey center.
Unless I have some brilliant epiphany that I need to share in these last 36 hours, I am signing off. I will talk to you on the other side of my surgery and let you know how it went and how I am. I have asked Ken to post a quick note Monday night to let you know I am out of surgery and all right.
Thank you all for the great movie comments and emails. I have a wonderful list that I will share after I put it together. Thank you for all your support.
Looking forward,
Michele
The schedule has aligned. Monday, Adam is studying chemistry after school and then going to a friend's house to study some more and hopefully not eat them out of house and home. Ken will be with me until I am up in my room which may not be until 8 p.m. or so in the evening. Two close friends will be there that night, one to stay overnight in the hospital with me and one to check in on me.
I have finished what Christmas shopping I am going to do, I have written what cards I am going to send, I have decorated the Christmas tree with decorations. I have let life get smaller. Only the most important ornaments (most made by my grandmother with a few Adam child ones) are on the tree. The cards are for immediate family. The shopping just enough so the tree will have something beneath it that matters to Ken and Adam. Funny movies have arrived on loan from family and friends. When those run out, I have a great list for Netflix.
Work is done. The new sales "guy" (he's from New York, so I think that is ok) starts January 4, 2010. The Christmas party is planned, the gifts for the team bought, the NY Eve celebration organized for those who have to work. For the boards I serve on, I have begged volunteers to pick up my pieces for now.
I went and got a kick-butt hair cut Thursday afternoon. I am not going to sit around and stare at gray, out of control hair. This morning Ken and I went to the club and took a biking class. I felt out of shape and not very strong but I will do it again in the morning because I don't know when I will be able to again.
Tonight, Ken and I are making one of my special comfort meals: steaks (grass fed beef), baked potatoes (with cheese and sour cream of course), broccoli with slices of lemon. Most importantly, Ken is making his special desert; chocolate souffle cake. The best desert on the planet; chocolate cake with a warm gooey center.
Unless I have some brilliant epiphany that I need to share in these last 36 hours, I am signing off. I will talk to you on the other side of my surgery and let you know how it went and how I am. I have asked Ken to post a quick note Monday night to let you know I am out of surgery and all right.
Thank you all for the great movie comments and emails. I have a wonderful list that I will share after I put it together. Thank you for all your support.
Looking forward,
Michele
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Waiting
It's 6 a.m. and I have been up since 4 a.m. Waiting is difficult. It is physical. This knot in the pit of your stomach. The tautness in the back of my neck. I try to meditate. I try to watch TV (you know there really isn't much on in the middle of the night!). I try to read and I spent part of the time surfing the internet reading yoga blogs. I read email. But my email is way down as I have cut myself off of a ton of work related emails over the past week.
I did laundry. Tonight I will decorate the Christmas tree and play Christmas carols. That will be better perhaps. The time is winding down and I am stepping off into the unknown.
Somehow I have to make this transition into myself. I spend so much of my time focusing outward, taking care of everything else. And right now there is just me to focus on and what I need to take care of is... me. This is a challenge.
I did laundry. Tonight I will decorate the Christmas tree and play Christmas carols. That will be better perhaps. The time is winding down and I am stepping off into the unknown.
Somehow I have to make this transition into myself. I spend so much of my time focusing outward, taking care of everything else. And right now there is just me to focus on and what I need to take care of is... me. This is a challenge.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Centered
Friday night we went out to our old neighborhood and had dinner with two families. Friends from when we all lived on the same block. They still live there and we moved back to the city, to a condo away from the suburbs, gardens and community. These were great neighbors. The kind of people that you would see outside and stop to chat with for an hour. People with who we have been biking, had Easter dinner, taught Sunday school, shared books.
There was something about that dinner. We sat around a table talking and joking about health care reform and global warming. We joked about current events and then we got to all the family stuff. How is your brother? What trips do folks have planned for the summer? I ate. I ate more than I have in a month. Delivered pizza and brownies never tasted so good. The night flew by. All of sudden four hours had passed.
We made room at the table for the four kids so we could all be together. It was warm and wonderful on a very cold night. I felt very centered sitting there around the crowded table. We had talked about going into town for the Christmas walk but we just never made it off the chairs.
In the city, you have to make your own community. Your community is not necessarily your neighbors or the people who live in your building. I had forgotten what it is like to be part of such a geographic based community and I realized how much I miss the friends from our suburban life. I have been more relaxed since that dinner. I am more ready to face the future. That is what friends do, help you face the future.
Thanks to them for that.
There was something about that dinner. We sat around a table talking and joking about health care reform and global warming. We joked about current events and then we got to all the family stuff. How is your brother? What trips do folks have planned for the summer? I ate. I ate more than I have in a month. Delivered pizza and brownies never tasted so good. The night flew by. All of sudden four hours had passed.
We made room at the table for the four kids so we could all be together. It was warm and wonderful on a very cold night. I felt very centered sitting there around the crowded table. We had talked about going into town for the Christmas walk but we just never made it off the chairs.
In the city, you have to make your own community. Your community is not necessarily your neighbors or the people who live in your building. I had forgotten what it is like to be part of such a geographic based community and I realized how much I miss the friends from our suburban life. I have been more relaxed since that dinner. I am more ready to face the future. That is what friends do, help you face the future.
Thanks to them for that.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Funny Movie List
The countdown is 8 days. My surgery is Monday December 14th. For the last few days, I have been thinking of how I will handle the down time and recovery. And I need help, I need names of funny movies that I can watch while I am recuperating.
Let's make a few clarifying requests. I am not into slapstick like Benny Hill or Monty Python. Here is a list of movies that I think are comedy that I like:
Men in Black
Ghostbusters
The Princess Bride
Groundhog Day
You've Got Mail!
Mama Mia!
I probably have dated myself here. I am open to suggestions. Please comment and suggest something.
thanks in advance,
Let's make a few clarifying requests. I am not into slapstick like Benny Hill or Monty Python. Here is a list of movies that I think are comedy that I like:
Men in Black
Ghostbusters
The Princess Bride
Groundhog Day
You've Got Mail!
Mama Mia!
I probably have dated myself here. I am open to suggestions. Please comment and suggest something.
thanks in advance,
Friday, December 4, 2009
Exercise: "I don't speak Portuguese" yet.
I have tried to play the sympathy card with my trainer. You should be nice to me I said, I have cancer. He laughed and said, "this is tough love baby". And it is. I need to be as strong as I can to get through this process. Yes, mentally strong but I need to stay physically strong. I ran across an article in the Chicago Tribune on 11/23/09 about a research study on the huge risks of inactivity.
It talked about 20 year old Danish males who were relatively inactive but walked between 6000 and 10,000 steps a day. There is roughly 2000 steps per mile so they were averaging between 3-5 miles. The researchers restricted them to 1500 steps a day. In just two weeks their weight hadn't gone up but their abdominal fat had increased 7%. They also showed signs of increased risk of diabetes and heart disease. Their insulin average increased 60%!
When I was 20 I wasn't particularly healthy and I made a vow to myself that I would be healthier when I was 30 than when I was 20. When I was 30 I was thin but not particularly healthy and I nodded to myself and said I was busy. Then marriage, a baby and I was overweight, busy and not healthy. I am certainly not saying the marriage caused the weight gain (but come on, when I was single dinner was a sliced apple and some cheese). When I was 40 I pretty much said to myself, who are you kidding? You said you would get healthier as you got older. You said you would take better care of yourself and you're not. I wanted to set a better example for my son. So I stripped away the excuses and started walking 10,000 steps a day. Then I added yoga. Then I added the elliptical. Then Ken and I started biking together and I got addicted. Then I added weight training so I would be stronger on the bike and healthier as I aged. I can see 50 from here. My brother was here this week and we did a couple yoga classes together, a real joy. He asked, "are you in the best shape of your life?" I felt a sense of satisfaction as I answered "pretty much." I was also biking 100 miles a week 6 weeks ago was so I was probably in better shape then. But it sure feels good.
All of this is a long way to get to admitting that I am scared about how hard it will be to get back into shape after the surgeries. How much flexibility, strength and training will I lose and how quickly? Look at the 20 year old Danish men, I mean my goodness, two weeks and it's all downhill. The study proves what we know. Lack of exercise hurts you. And I am a lot older than 20 something. I think most of us take our good health for granted. I certainly did.
This is how older people get old. Something happens, they get injured or sick and it takes longer and longer to recover. Or they can't recover to where they were before. That all seems pretty scary to me. I don't have a guide for how to recover from surgery. What to do and how. I am concerned about how quickly I will be able to or feel like moving again.
My trainer, Jean, shared something a few weeks ago. For the first time since we have been training together I said, "I can't." He smiled and laughed. He said, " I don't speak Portuguese." I said, "I beg your pardon?" He repeated, "I don't speak Portuguese." I must have looked mystified. He said, "haven't I ever told you that before?" "Nope." "Well you probably have never said "I can't before." He said, "I just don't understand those words. As far as I am concerned that must be Portuguese and I don't speak it. Let's go. Get it done." I laughed and we moved on.
So we will see if I after surgery if I have to learn to speak Portuguese.
The Chicago Tribune article is here:
http://www.chicagotribune.com/health/chi-tc-health-action-move-1118nov22,0,1946747.story
The actual study results link: http://jama.ama-assn.org/cgi/content/full/299/11/1261-a
It talked about 20 year old Danish males who were relatively inactive but walked between 6000 and 10,000 steps a day. There is roughly 2000 steps per mile so they were averaging between 3-5 miles. The researchers restricted them to 1500 steps a day. In just two weeks their weight hadn't gone up but their abdominal fat had increased 7%. They also showed signs of increased risk of diabetes and heart disease. Their insulin average increased 60%!
When I was 20 I wasn't particularly healthy and I made a vow to myself that I would be healthier when I was 30 than when I was 20. When I was 30 I was thin but not particularly healthy and I nodded to myself and said I was busy. Then marriage, a baby and I was overweight, busy and not healthy. I am certainly not saying the marriage caused the weight gain (but come on, when I was single dinner was a sliced apple and some cheese). When I was 40 I pretty much said to myself, who are you kidding? You said you would get healthier as you got older. You said you would take better care of yourself and you're not. I wanted to set a better example for my son. So I stripped away the excuses and started walking 10,000 steps a day. Then I added yoga. Then I added the elliptical. Then Ken and I started biking together and I got addicted. Then I added weight training so I would be stronger on the bike and healthier as I aged. I can see 50 from here. My brother was here this week and we did a couple yoga classes together, a real joy. He asked, "are you in the best shape of your life?" I felt a sense of satisfaction as I answered "pretty much." I was also biking 100 miles a week 6 weeks ago was so I was probably in better shape then. But it sure feels good.
All of this is a long way to get to admitting that I am scared about how hard it will be to get back into shape after the surgeries. How much flexibility, strength and training will I lose and how quickly? Look at the 20 year old Danish men, I mean my goodness, two weeks and it's all downhill. The study proves what we know. Lack of exercise hurts you. And I am a lot older than 20 something. I think most of us take our good health for granted. I certainly did.
This is how older people get old. Something happens, they get injured or sick and it takes longer and longer to recover. Or they can't recover to where they were before. That all seems pretty scary to me. I don't have a guide for how to recover from surgery. What to do and how. I am concerned about how quickly I will be able to or feel like moving again.
My trainer, Jean, shared something a few weeks ago. For the first time since we have been training together I said, "I can't." He smiled and laughed. He said, " I don't speak Portuguese." I said, "I beg your pardon?" He repeated, "I don't speak Portuguese." I must have looked mystified. He said, "haven't I ever told you that before?" "Nope." "Well you probably have never said "I can't before." He said, "I just don't understand those words. As far as I am concerned that must be Portuguese and I don't speak it. Let's go. Get it done." I laughed and we moved on.
So we will see if I after surgery if I have to learn to speak Portuguese.
The Chicago Tribune article is here:
http://www.chicagotribune.com/health/chi-tc-health-action-move-1118nov22,0,1946747.story
The actual study results link: http://jama.ama-assn.org/cgi/content/full/299/11/1261-a
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Letting Others In
I hired my own replacement.
I have been training him for two days. It took 3 hours to explain something that I do in 20 minutes. I have the courage to let someone else do it. I am not nervous about him doing it. I am not scared. He is very experienced and he has a good sense of humor. Both are required traits. But it sure feels weird.
Letting others in and accepting their care is a struggle and something that scares me more than hiring someone to replace me. So many friends have asked how they can help and I am speechless. Of course right now, I don't need really need any physical help. But even if I do, I don't know that I will know how to ask. I have had wonderful emotional support from friends and even that is awkward. Do other people feel like uncomfortable talking about themselves and spending so much time on this? Some people seem so gracious about letting others into their lives. I feel like I am 13 all over again. Over the past few weeks many friends have sent cards, emailed and called. Or they have talked to my family who have passed on their messages to me. I am very appreciative and filled with warmth at the well wishes, but when it comes to talking I am uncomfortable. I am not one to put myself out there and draw attention to myself. I don't think most of us are. There have been some moments when I feel like screaming, "would everyone please just leave me alone!" This is my brain pretending that I don't have cancer and I am not scheduled for surgery less than two weeks from now. I will act like this isn't happening and it won't be, I think.
A friend made a comment a few weeks ago when I was talking about being overwhelmed by the attention "yes, it's really terrible to have so many people care about you." (She really was being sarcastic.) But that comment has been ringing in my head for the last few weeks. It is hard to let other people in this close. I think we all build up our lives and work to do what we think matters and I think for different people that is very different every day. I let my husband and son care for me daily. I care for them too. That is how family works (at least I am fortunate enough that mine does). Being exposed to outsiders is scary. I think it is easy for people to think they would be comfortable with the expressions and attention and it is hard when it really happens.
I can just see you thinking, yeah, she says she is uncomfortable but here she is writing it all down. I mean, I write this blog right? So I want people to know. But I write this because it is easier for me to write it than talk about it. When my mom was here last week, I looked straight at her (I even surprised myself) and said, "I don't want to talk about it." But if I write it down, I know (or I have conned myself) that I am dealing with it. It forces me too. I am not keeping it all locked up inside.
So I will practice going forward and accepting the warmth and affection from the people who care about me. I will ask for help if I need it and I will tamp down those awkward 13 year old girl moments and not scream, "just leave me alone."
I have been training him for two days. It took 3 hours to explain something that I do in 20 minutes. I have the courage to let someone else do it. I am not nervous about him doing it. I am not scared. He is very experienced and he has a good sense of humor. Both are required traits. But it sure feels weird.
Letting others in and accepting their care is a struggle and something that scares me more than hiring someone to replace me. So many friends have asked how they can help and I am speechless. Of course right now, I don't need really need any physical help. But even if I do, I don't know that I will know how to ask. I have had wonderful emotional support from friends and even that is awkward. Do other people feel like uncomfortable talking about themselves and spending so much time on this? Some people seem so gracious about letting others into their lives. I feel like I am 13 all over again. Over the past few weeks many friends have sent cards, emailed and called. Or they have talked to my family who have passed on their messages to me. I am very appreciative and filled with warmth at the well wishes, but when it comes to talking I am uncomfortable. I am not one to put myself out there and draw attention to myself. I don't think most of us are. There have been some moments when I feel like screaming, "would everyone please just leave me alone!" This is my brain pretending that I don't have cancer and I am not scheduled for surgery less than two weeks from now. I will act like this isn't happening and it won't be, I think.
A friend made a comment a few weeks ago when I was talking about being overwhelmed by the attention "yes, it's really terrible to have so many people care about you." (She really was being sarcastic.) But that comment has been ringing in my head for the last few weeks. It is hard to let other people in this close. I think we all build up our lives and work to do what we think matters and I think for different people that is very different every day. I let my husband and son care for me daily. I care for them too. That is how family works (at least I am fortunate enough that mine does). Being exposed to outsiders is scary. I think it is easy for people to think they would be comfortable with the expressions and attention and it is hard when it really happens.
I can just see you thinking, yeah, she says she is uncomfortable but here she is writing it all down. I mean, I write this blog right? So I want people to know. But I write this because it is easier for me to write it than talk about it. When my mom was here last week, I looked straight at her (I even surprised myself) and said, "I don't want to talk about it." But if I write it down, I know (or I have conned myself) that I am dealing with it. It forces me too. I am not keeping it all locked up inside.
So I will practice going forward and accepting the warmth and affection from the people who care about me. I will ask for help if I need it and I will tamp down those awkward 13 year old girl moments and not scream, "just leave me alone."
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