Getting back to normal

Life is finally starting to get back to normal. Today I actually drove for the first time in a month! While the idea of driving again sounds great, the reality was that the soreness in my chest made it difficult. I could feel the hard expanders with every turn of the wheel. Time to start doing the arm and shoulder exercises the doctors have recommended to regain my normal range-of-motion. Another first-in-a-while event happened today—I took a real shower, all by myself, without sitting on a shower stool or having to carry those cumbersome drains in a bag! What a relief. It's the little everyday things that you take for granted when you can no longer do them. I know the hubby is particularly relieved that I can do my share of the housework again. Especially because it will give him more time with his new iPhone 4S. Guess I won't be seeing him for awhile...

Fly away chicks

I'm finally drain-less! The plastic surgeon removed the remaining boob drain yesterday, and I am so happy to be rid of them. Mr. Pincushion said he will miss them a bit, though. Emptying those drains had become part of his daily routine. He was even starting to bond with the little white worms who lived inside of them. They were like his little chicks, and now they've flown from the nest.

In addition to pulling out the drain the plastic surgeon pumped some more saline into my expanders. Although he filled them up a little less than the first time, my chest still f*****g hurts. I imagine this is like what a heart attack feels like, except that it lasts all day! All this just for some new boobies...

Speaking of, it's become difficult to hold my arms flat against my sides because my inflated bazoongas are getting in the way. They feel enormous, though when I look in the mirror they're really not that big. Still, is this what Dolly Parton feels like?

                                                            

Expanding my possibilities

We've started the process of turning my valleys into peaks—well, hopefully more like hills. On Tuesday the plastic surgeon inserted a saline-filled needle into a port in my tissue expanders, and presto! My chest had two instant mounds. Mr. Pincushion watched the whole thing and said they grew at least a full cup size right in front of his eyes. Not knowing what to expect with my first expansion, I was a little nervous. However, because that part of my chest has no sensation I didn't feel the needle much at all. That is, until the saline started filling up the expanders and I could feel the cold liquid being pumped in. Talk about a strange feeling! Next thing I knew I could hardly take a full breath. I was overcome with the feeling of tightness and pressure on my sternum. Unfortunately, that lasted until I went to bed that night. Now, a few days later, my mounds are still a little uncomfortable. I am scheduled to have two more expansions over the next two weeks and I honestly don't know how my chest can get any harder, or how I'll be able to breathe. Or could you imagine if the mounds became like overfilled water balloons and suddenly popped—spraying saline and wormy boob juice all over the place!!

Conga lines

I finally have the answer to my burning question: What are those disgusting, white wormy things coming from the drains in my chest? I had an appointment with the plastic surgeon yesterday, and he informed us that they are clumps of white blood cells. Hmm. Interesting. As we were driving home from the appointment, Mr. Pincushion proclaimed, "It's kind of like those white blood cells are making a conga line!" I burst out laughing. I have a very funny husband who continually makes me laugh.

By the way, I just watched a movie on the Lifetime channel called "Five" that I recommend to anyone impacted by breast cancer, directly or indirectly. It is an anthology of five short films about the experiences of women who have been been diagnosed with breast cancer. While I was a little hesitant to watch, I'm glad I did. I thought the actresses did a great job portraying some of the emotions that women with breast cancer go through, even though they just scratch the surface. In case you missed it and would like to check it out, Lifetime is streaming the entire movie on their website.

The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out

Warning! This one might be a little TMI for some. Actually, I'm sure it will be. But as you know if you've been reading, my blog is about putting it all out there. The good, bad and ugly. So on that note, I have something...really gross happening in my boob drains. There are these stringy white/yellow things, resembling WORMS, coming out of my chest and into the drains. Think of a bottle of tequila and you get the picture, except these are longer and a little skinnier. The hubby—who's by now very familiar with these little guys—told me they reminded him of the strings on female hygiene products (the fluid in the drains is reddish). He told me this while he was emptying one of the drains, and one of the worms slid down the tube into the little grenade where the fluid collects. I was laughing so hard that tears began rolling down my face. Now when he changes my drains he makes this face like he's smelling a poo which just makes me laugh all over. I know it's disgusting but we do have lots of laughs with those worms. Mr. Pincushion says that if he sees any eyes that will be the final straw. I just hope when this is all done he doesn't think of worms every time he sees my new perky boobs. For that matter, I hope I don't either!

Rock hard

My chest is soooo tight right now! And I don't mean tight as in "awesome," like the kids say these days. No, I mean my chest is literally tight. It feels like I'm wearing a straight jacket or that I've been mummified. Apparently this is all due to the tissue expanders that the plastic surgeon installed after my mastectomy. Not only do they cause this feeling of tightness, they're extremely hard, like two rocks sitting underneath my chest. Needless to say these tissue expanders are VERY uncomfortable. The muscle relaxers and painkillers don't seem to help much. I spoke to my plastic surgeon's nurse and she assured me that all of this is very normal, and that I'll be feeling better soon. In fact, she scheduled my first "expansion" session for next week. That's when the plastic surgeon will begin the months long process of injecting saline into the expanders, gradually making enough room in my chest for my new boobies. Sounds fun, huh? Actually, it sounds painful considering how tight and hard that area feels already. A friend who's been through the expansion process warned me to take a pain reliever beforehand because I'll be sore afterwards. Lovely!

From hills to valleys

Since the surgery 12 days ago I've tried not to look too closely at the carnage my double mastectomy left behind. From the few brief glances I've had in the mirror I can say that what's left on my chest sort of resembles rotten, bruised fruit...Yuck! On each breast there are incisions with sutures down the center, on the sides and below. It's like where there once were two small hills, there are now yellow and purple valleys, with train tracks going through. Sad but true. Mr. Pincushion, who can be squeamish, was getting ready to help me out of my post-surgery bra for the first time, when he paused and said, "Wait. I need a minute to prepare for this. Will I be shocked?" Fortunately, after the unveiling, he said "Actually, it's not that bad." Phew! What if he had passed out or got sick? Maybe, one day soon, I'll be able to look at my chest and not feel incredibly sad or horrified. But for now I'm just going to stay away from mirrors.

Oh happy day!

I'm EXTREMELY excited to be able to share some great news with everyone. My breast surgeon received the official reports from the pathologist, and it turns out I've had what is known in the trade as a "complete pathological response" to the chemotherapy. This means there was no trace of cancer in any of the breast tissue or lymph nodes that were sent to the pathologists for testing after my surgery! Apparently, the pathologist had even called my breast surgeon to ask her where my tumors were. According to the surgeon, this is the best outcome we could have hoped for, particularly in light of the fact that the cancer was already stage III when I was first diagnosed. So thankfully, all that I've endured over the last six months—the pain, nausea, hair loss, nerve damage, bathroom issues, and of course, the loss of my breasts—turns out to have been worth it.

Now I just need to get through this post-surgery recovery, the upcoming radiation treatments and the ongoing breast reconstruction, and life will be good again.

Down to two tubes

Yay! I'm back to peeing like a woman! My dad's fiance Lee, who has been a wonderful caregiver to me over the past several days, removed my catheter yesterday morning. I'll spare you the details, but now I know why men dribble on the seat. Then, after lunch, we went back to the the plastic surgeon's office, where the nurse removed the pain pump tube that was in my stomach. The pump had been slowly releasing a numbing agent over the days since my surgery, though it didn't completely eliminate the pain. Still, it's one less contraption to carry around everywhere (the actual pump was in a fanny pack). While we were in the office the nurse examined my chest, and reassured us that the swelling around my expanders was normal and that everything was looking good.

Besides getting rid of some of my tubes, the highlight of the day was that I finally took a real shower, the first one I've had in six days! I had been feeling pretty gross, and even though everyone assured me I didn't smell, they were probably just being nice...

Painkillers & Poop

The good news about the painkillers I've been taking is that they've kept the pain radiating from my chest from becoming too intense. The bad news about the painkillers is that they cause major constipation. We're talking five days with no bowel movements. My urologist, who's been trying to get my bladder working again, told me that these two bodily functions go hand-in-hand. So she suggested trying laxatives first. Sure enough, they didn't help, so I had to resort to the next option: a "fleet" enema. The first attempt didn't "take" (user error), so I ended up doing another. All was quiet until a few hours later, when the urge finally hit, big time. Without giving too much information, let's just say that it was not a pretty scene. For those of you who have seen the movie "Bridesmaids," imagine the scene that took place in the bathroom at the bridal salon, but on a much smaller scale!