“It’s about focusing on the fight and not the fright.” – Robin Roberts
If you're on the fence about scheduling and getting your mammogram, please consider doing it now. Early detection is key.
Before I roll into yesterday's festivities, I've got some thank yous to write. A giant thank you to you, dear reader and to everyone who commented on my recent posts; sent prayers, positive thoughts, hugs, and love; and those who sent private messages with their own experiences. I felt bouyed by your good energy even through the trying parts.
Thank you to my hero, my big brother Jorden for showing up for me once again. During the many wait times while I was in the surgical center and/or breast center (they're adjacent; more on that later), Jorden and I exchanged silly emojis in strange, non sequitur series that kept me giggling. He also was the first to sample the Feel Better pie and promptly fell asleep afterward.
Thanks also to my very dear friend and spiritual sister Patty Scott, who took over for Jorden and has been caring for me since yesterday afternoon. She has been keeping me cheered, fed and watered, and distracted from the pain (now discomfort).
OK, here's my lumpectomy experience at St. Peter's CARES surgery center and Astera Breast Center yesterday.
Jorden and I arrived at 6:30 a.m. to do the normal paperwork, etc. I wasn't feeling well because my gut tends to act up when I'm anxious. I'd been taking Nexium for the past few days because my stomach had become increasingly sour from the rising anxiety. I also was unable to sit in the waiting area at one point because I had sciatica. Oh, and there was that migraine that had started Tuesday night.
I'd gotten up to meditate and do some yoga at about 4 a.m. The deep breathing was very helpful, and I kept that up throughout the day to help deal with the anxiety.
There have been few times during my nearly 26 years of recovery that I've wanted a Valium (one of my favorite things in my late teens and early 20s). This was one of them. I said it out loud to Jorden during the initial waiting room, and thankfully, I quickly lost the desire.
After I was called back by a friendly and kind nurse who stuck with me through most of the first hour, I was taken to a brightly lit pre-op area lined with small rooms with curtains for doors. I changed into a gown and was soon prepped by another very nice nurse who had the unfortunate duty of finding a decent vein in my right hand. There's no good place for a hand IV, but the one happy vein was running from my thumb to my wrist. It hurt all day and I couldn't write well or bend my wrist much due to the needle. It presented a challenge since that's my dominant hand and the opposite of the surgery side.
I had a bit of a wait before being taken to the Astera side for mammography and the needle-placed guide wire procedure. There were a number of patients getting other procedures that morning, and I could hear snatches of their conversations with their medical professionals. I had my own parade of them, asking the same series of questions each time. What are you having done today? Which breast?
And so on.
I was taken over to the breast center and was introduced to two of the best mammography professionals I've ever met. One had been through the same procedure and was particularly sensitive to my nervousness. She explained everything in detail and talked me through it as it was happening. Not only was she comforting and informative, but the other tech held my hand and had an actual, funny conversation with me during the procedure. I've never had such a warm experience during a painful medical procedure.
The radiologist who performed the procedure, as well as the other two women in the room, warned me about approaching pain, and went very easy on the lidocaine because they'd all done their homework and read my chart. Pretty much everyone I encountered had done that, which was very helpful because I have so many allergies and reactions to medications and things like latex and adhesive (think steri strips and bandaging tape).
Here's how the procedure went. I was seated in a wheeled chair, similar to the recliner I'd been in while waiting in my little cubicle previously, but this had a foot rest they adjusted to my height and a shorter seat distance. The mammographers moved me over to the mammography machine so that I was seated inside it as they adjusted the parts around my left breast to take "a picture." They got me all set up quickly, and the radiologist looked at the image and told them where to mark me for the guide wire insertion. That experience was similar to the biopsy.
Next, the radiologist gave me some lidocaine (not even 3 ccs) to numb the area where she'd insert the needle. She didn't give me more because it makes me feel drunk (and not in a good way). I toughed it out, and was very distracted by my new friend, the mammographer who held my hand and amused me with all kinds of things I can no longer remember.
There were pauses to take images, about 4 times. Also, the radiologist had to reposition it at one point. She asked if I wanted more lidocaine, but I said no, "I can take it." And, I did.
Then, they gently moved me out of the machine to tape down the 4 inch wire emerging from the side of my breast. It looked like a tiny, bendy, gold filament. Then, the mammographer who'd been through it herself walked me back over to the surgical center for another 45 minute wait.
During that time, I saw my surgeon, one of the nurses on the surgical team, and my anesthesiologist. My surgeon asked me a few questions, then came in close, looked into my eyes, and put her hand on the back of my head (everyone wants to touch my head now that Thom Curtis gave me a crew cut)(I love it, by the way, and might just keep it this short for good). "You're going to do great," she said. I believed her.
The next conversation was a bit different. The anesthesiologist needed a little inspiration to think outside the box. He'd seen my chart and extensive allergy/reaction list, including opiods. They make me puke, so I asked what he could do about that. He said that it's how they treat the patient's pain, but he was aware that I'd had bad reactions to it in the past. I let him think about it for a few seconds, and he decided to try Toradal, a very strong NSAID on me since I use Alleve for my pain relief. He also prescribed Tylenol prior to the surgery (which does nothing for me). He said that he wouldn't use gas, but instead focus on an injectable anesthesia, but I would have a small tube down my throat to help me breathe. He said I might feel a bit scratchy when I woke up. (It wasn't noticeable.) He also told me that he would pay close attention to my breathing to determine my pain level and would adjust accordingly.
I'm going to skip ahead here for a moment just to tell you that when I did come up from the anesthesia, I didn't feel pukey at all, which was a big help and an enormous relief. I'm grateful that he heard me out because it first seemed that he was going to try to talk me into having the opioids. I also appreciate that he spent the few minutes with me explaining precisely what he would do and how he would do it.
Finally, I was walked into a very, very cold operating room where 5 people were busy prepping it for surgery, including my anesthesiologist. I was laid down on a table with both my arms out, and the anesthesiologist started me on the meds right away. I was out before I knew it.
The waking up process took me a while, but wasn't unpleasant as it had been in the past. I now had (still have) a very large pressure dressing on the wound. The nurse quickly brought me a couple of cranberry juices and fished my GF crackers out of my purse. They called Jorden, who came 15 minutes later. We hung out a bit while I got used to the loopy feeling. They must have hydrated me like crazy because the nurse helped me to the restroom 3 times before I left.
The nurse helped me into my sports bra, which took a good five minutes of very gentle maneuvering due to the pressure dressing and what looks like 5 feet of tape. The tape is the worst part, really, because they taped me up while I was lying down. Everything moves around and pulls on it when I'm sitting or standing. Not to mention the fact that the skin is fairly thin in that area.
My pain level was increasing enough that I really wanted to get home, eat something more substantial and take 2 Alleve. The pain felt like I was being stabbed and burned at the same time, but not constantly, thankfully. I'd sent some texts to friends saying that I was experiencing lightning in my left breast. I'm not sure what it feels like to be struck by lightning, but it's the best explanation I can give.
The surgeon came to visit for a minute saying that it went "perfectly." Now, we just wait for the pathology results from the lymph node. The nurse said they would come in a week. That seems long to me, and none of the results have taken that long, so far. My guess is that they'll rush it since my surgeon is the director of the breast center. But, who knows?
We got home around 2, and Jorden hung with me until Patty arrived after 4. By then, I was starting to feel more pain, but I stuck it out until 6:30 to take more Alleve. We enjoyed some of the food I made while I was preparing like mad on Tuesday. Patty and I feasted on my chipotle in adobo hummus, guacamole, and pie. The pie really turned out well. Patty had lots of nice things to say about it. We watched Game of Thrones for a while until it was time for bed.
I wasn't ready and frankly, a little concerned about how I'd sleep, so I stayed up until I was very sleepy and gave it a go. I wound up sleeping on my right side for about 4 hours. That's pretty much my new normal post-progesterone. But there was pain from the tape pulling on my skin.
I removed the sports bra and very slowly peeled up some of the extraneous paper tape and cut it free. Underneath, as ever when it comes to adhesive, there was a bright red rash on the skin. I removed the adhesive residue (a term I most often use in condition reporting for archives and museum work) with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol.
Cetaphil makes a really good cream for eczema that I've been using for years. I treated the rash to some of the cream. It will be better later. I also treated the constellation of small purple bruises on my left inner bicep (likely from being strapped down during the surgery), as well as the large bruise on my right hand from the IV, with some arnica gel. That stuff works like a charm on bruises if I apply it in light doses a few times a day.
Today, thanks to drinking a ton of water and resting last night, I feel much more like myself. The pain is limited to my armpit and the tape pulling. Patty will help me remove the dressing tomorrow morning, as well as the adhesive, so I can take a shower and see if all is healing well.
It's a beautiful day, so Patty and I make a couple of fruit smoothies and go to Colonial Park for a walk. There are many benches if I get tired.
Thanks again for all your positive thoughts, feedback, and prayers. It means so much to me to have the support I've received throughout this experience.
And, remember to get your mammogram.
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