Friday, November 2, 2018

Scary AF

I've been feeling very fatigued lately from chemotherapy. It's even a chore to think about writing. Where did I leave off from two weeks ago? Oh yeah...

Going through a major surgery is scary AF.

I had only ever been operated on twice. I had a tonsillectomy when I was three years old, and
broke my arm when I was six. I suppose I could thank my lucky stars this hasn't been a regular occurrence in my adult life, but forgive me if I'm not feeling in a particularly grateful mood.

There were three thoughts about my surgery that brought tears to my eyes when nobody was looking:
  1. Something is going to go wrong during surgery and I'm not going to make it.
  2. I AM going to make it out of surgery, only to find that the cancer has spread and my days are numbered. 
  3. Even if I do make it out of surgery - and they don't find any contaminated lymph nodes - I still have to go through four months of chemotherapy. Plus I'll never be a whole person again.
 

My husband and I tried to do as many fun things as we could in order to keep my mind off of it. We used up some casino credits for a really nice dinner and some fun at the Hard Rock Casino in Tampa the weekend before surgery. And the night before, I had suggested a Marvel movie marathon - both Ant-Man and The Avengers: Infinity War were in the theaters still, and although we had already seen both of them, I thought it would be fun to stay up all night watching them again. I forgot that we're getting old, though, and only made it through one movie (Ant-Man) before we decided to go home and go to sleep.

My report time to the hospital the next day was 8am. There were three rounds of tears for me that morning - once, right after the alarm woke me and I recalled what day it was. Then again at the hospital as the nurse was prepping me for surgery. My husband and mother were present and it was nice to have the company, but I really didn't want to break down in front of them. I cried a third time after I was wheeled to the pre-op area, after saying goodbye to my husband and mother. Luckily, the nurse in the pre-op area had a really helpful sense of humor. I was grateful for the drugs he gave me to relax me a bit. I remember being wheeled to the surgery room around noon - small, white, crowded. A few of the nurses introduced themselves to me, but that was the last thing I remember before falling asleep.

The next thing I knew, I heard "Wake up, Nicole!" from an unfamiliar voice and some murmuring about getting my husband from the waiting area. I've said it before, but I'll say it again - anesthesia is a wonderful, wonderful thing. The whole operation was a little over six hours and then they kept me overnight in observation. I didn't sleep much, as nurses kept waking me up to check on me, offer painkillers, and other fussing around. I almost didn't want to go home the next day, but they don't usually keep you overnight at the hospital anymore, so I was lucky to at least get one night. Yes, a mastectomy is considered an outpatient procedure these days. Isn't that crazy? Stupid insurance. That's a story for another day I guess.

The good news was that I learned that twelve lymph nodes were taken during surgery, and all of them were free and clear of cancer.

The bad news? Surgery would actually be the easiest part of treating my cancer.

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