Surgery Follow-Up

Brandon and I traveled to Cleveland yesterday for my post-surgical follow-up visit. Scars are looking good. Magic Fingers is preparing for a presentation and asked if I would allow him to use photos of me, to which I agreed. So I got to have a photo session of my new torso. Otherwise, it was a fairly routine visit. While having the tape scrapped of me, we did chat about Belgium -- turns out Magic Fingers is a big fan, so he gave us some recommendations for our upcoming trip.

In regards to recovering, my energy levels are increasing. On Sunday, when Brandon and I went to Target to get me some spanx-like undergarments (which I will need to wear for about a month to help keep my abdomen in place), he was concerned that I wouldn't be able to walk the entire length of the box store. So he suggested I get one of the motorized carts. What a bizarre experience. Other customers pretty much did their best to not look at me, or avoid me at all cost. The cart did move a bit faster than I would have guessed, so that was pretty cool. But yesterday, I was able to walk around a mall and eat a really high caloric Mrs. Field's cookie. No more motorized carts for me.

I'm sorry this entry is kind of lame. I'm really sleepy but it is too late in the afternoon for me to take a nap. The neighborhood was a buzz with activity this afternoon so I couldn't calm down enough to rest when a nap would have been appropriate. The former neighbor that drives around town on a riding mower recently returned, and he kept revving his ride off and on during prime napping time. The teenagers up the street discovered whistles, so I kept hearing a constant bleet followed by peels of laughter. And someone, somewhere nearby was hammering all afternoon. I think I might go to bed really early tonight. Oh if only my 25-year old self could see me now.

No Tubes!

Earlier this week, I underwent the first of what will probably be two follow-up surgeries to the DIEP procedure that I had in October. The procedure was outpatient. My arrival time was scheduled at 10am. Since I get anxious before any surgery, and am not allowed to eat or drink anything after midnight the night before, I felt it best if Brandon and I spent the night near the surgical facility (we live about 1.5 hours away so not being able to even drink water would have made really cranky). Thanks to Priceline, I was able to secure a room for $39 at the hotel closest to the surgical facility. After work, on Monday evening, we headed up north on I-71, checked into the hotel, ate some dinner, wandered around the local mall, and watched some Olympic Ice Dancing on tv.

The next morning, at 10am, I checked in for surgery. Luckily the insurance issues seemed to have been sorted out. The nurses dressed me in a surgical gown, hat, and footies (I did get to keep my penguin socks on underneath the footies). The IV was inserted with no problem. Brandon was then allowed back in pre-op area to sit with me while I waited. And then we waited. My doctor didn't finish the prior patient until almost 2pm. When Magic Fingers did stop by, he was apologetic and said there were no surgeries scheduled after me, so all of his attention could be focused on me. He then grabbed his trusty purple marker and proceeded to draw all over my torso to mark the areas where he planned to work. Brandon said, when the doctor was finished, that my chest and stomach resembled a jack o' lantern.

After the surgeon completed making his markings, the nurses came back, injected some sedatives to my IV, I kissed Brandon, and was out cold. The last thing I remember was lying on my bed and being rolled out of the room where I had been waiting. And then I woke up on the other side (of the room).

The surgical wing was practically empty. Almost everyone had left for the day. Even most of the lights were turned off. Kind of creepy. And none of the remaining nursing staff could answer many of our questions. I simply ate my Lorna Doones, drank some ginger ale, and was ready to go home. My recommendations for anyone having outpatient surgery: Don't be the last patient of the day.

Thankfully, my body seems to be doing ok. I'm sore. I have difficulty bending and picking myself up off the couch or bed. But I don't have any tubes, and having no tubes is a very good place to be.

Surgery Scheduled

My first of two followup surgeries for my DIEP procedure has finally been scheduled. I will go under the knife on February 23rd. When I last saw Magic Fingers (my nickname for my surgeon), he said this surgery should only take a couple of hours. Compared with the 15 hours of the last one, two hours is nothing.

Now begins my mad dash to complete all the half-finished projects at work. Plus I will need to find time some day this week (exact time and date are TBD) to go to a doctor, have a not very invasive physical to determine if my body can withstand surgery, and get some blood drawn. A chance exists that I may get to go to my local doctor, but with the scheduling being so last minute, I worry that I won't be able to make an appointment with enough time. Sometimes my doctor's office can be difficult when making appointments, although it seems ever since I entered into the world of breast cancer, I get some preferential treatment. My local doctor was diagnosed with it last year, and I wonder if my file has been tagged because I've been able to get an appointment fairly easily, and sometimes when I am not even sure if the office is open for business. If I can't see the local doctor, I will probably be making a day-long trip to Cleveland.

I need to stop stressing about work, but I've got a lot to do in a very short time. And this time it is not because I am procrastinator (which I am). If this surgery were happening over the summer, I would not be as nearly stressed as I am today. I work at a college, so my stress levels vary depending upon the semester cycle. Since spring break is only a couple of weeks away, students are needing midterm assistance. I've got a library instruction session scheduled for early this week. Each one of these sessions needs to be custom tailored to the class, and even more specifically, to the assignment. Ack! Plus I am one of the main planners for an event for the campus which is scheduled for right after my surgery, which means I've got a lot of work to do before my surgery. Some of the work can be delegated but it does look like I'll be going to work today, on Saturday, so I can begin the week being partially organized. Boo!

Frankenstein

"It's alive!"

For the past month, I have been experiencing varying degrees of pelvic pain. Unsure of the cause, I have been to see my family doctor, a urologist, and a gynecologist. I have had a pelvic ultrasound, a CT scan, and a cystoscopy. All of the test results were normal. One unexpected cancer diagnosis and an overactive imagination has turned me into the hypochondriac who goes to the doctor for the slightest twinge.

Yesterday, the gynecologist tells me that the pain is probably caused by the awakening of my ovaries. Chemo shut down my ovaries. Now that I am 6-months out from my last session of Taxol, this diagnosis makes sense. Wow, it hurts! I'm beginning to remember why I went on the Pill in the first place. Hopefully, the pain will lessen with time.

Bad Bedside Manner

I must vent.

Many chemo patients have ports installed in their upper chest to allow the evil toxic drugs easy access to veins. When chemo is finished, the port may be removed. Doctors seem to range among 2 opinions regarding port removal: 1) get it out and get on with your life or 2) leave the port in for 2-3 years just in case you need more chemo. My oncologist is from camp #1 and the local surgeon who can remove my port is from camp #2.

So yesterday, I had a doctor's appointment (arranged by my oncologist's office) with the surgeon who is to remove my port. Before the port was installed in November, the surgeon lectured me on her opinions about waiting to remove the port. So I knew before seeing her that she was not going to be pleased to see me.

First she made me wait for 25 minutes before coming into the room, then she walked into the room with a "why are you here" attitude. First she tossed my file down on her little metal table that she uses when taking notes on patients, and asked me why I was here. I explained that the appointment was made by the oncologist's office, that the port was occasionally uncomfortable, fear of clots, and concern about limitations of physical activity. She poopoo'd all of my concerns. But that isn't the best part...

I won't bore you with a play by play but she disapproves of my choice for reconstruction surgery, demanded to know why I made the decisions that I had made, why did I choose Cleveland for mastectomy, commented on how I travel to the big city for my important surgeries but only use her for the little ones (biopsy, ports), told me that the medical community disapproves of the DIEP surgery (but that if this is the surgery I want that I should go to the best and gave me the name of a surgeon in Boston), how she could put me in contact in with a very good plastic surgeon who comes to our small town for implants, informed me that she attends medical conferences, talked at me about the best ways to do incisions to save skin (without asking why I hadn't had a skin salvaging mastectomy), ....

I have probably even forgotten the best parts but I think you get the general gist of what happened in that office yesterday. Her 20-minute tirade ended with her telling me I could set up a port removal whenever I was ready. And I'm going to get charged for this appointment. She made me feel so horrible that all I wanted to do when I got home yesterday was crawl into bed.

I am tempted to report this surgeon to the local hospital for bad manners, but this is such a small town that my attempt to save someone from her venom may have bad results for me. And I doubt, in the end, my report would do any good.

A tummy tuck is included

Sooo excited... I went for my 3 month post surgery doctor's appointment this morning. Even all these months later, I still really like my surgeon and her team. I'd love to go for afterwork drinks with these people. They just seem like really nice, fun, caring people. The first thing my doctor wanted to do was see wedding photos but sadly the hospital bans Facebook from their computers (what's up with that!?!?), so I promised the doctor that I would email her the link to our photos when the photographer let's us know that the photos are ready.

But the reason why I am soooo excited... my surgeon arranged for me to get an appointment with one of the few doctors in the country who does the diep flap reconstruction surgery. The diep flap surgery uses only stomach fat, no muscle, to build a breast. This means that if I am fertile after all of my chemo treatment (50/50 odds), I will also be physically able to have a baby. The more mainstream reconstructive surgical procedure, called the tram flap, uses stomach muscle & fat, but destroys any future hopes of pregnancy for me. The tram flap is fine for post-menopausal women or women who don't plan to have children, but not for me who hopes to one day be pregnant.

Yippee!!!

And my scar is healing nicely.

Order of Events, Part 1

So... I randomly found the lump in my breast on the evening of 8/7. Thought it was a little strange, so I called my doctor's office the very next morning to make an appointment. Turns out, if you say you found a lump in your breast, a doctor's office will find an appointment for you very quickly (or least that is my experience). After a brief examination, the nurse practitioner decided the lump was worthy of further examination.

The earliest appointment I could get for a mammogram and ultrasound was the next Thursday (8/14). Having a mammogram is an odd experience. For those who have never had one, a mammogram involves having your breast squashed between 2 pieces of metal at a couple of different angles. For more information on mammograms, and a really great picture of one, go to:http://www.breastcancer.org/symptoms/testing/mammograms/mamm_tech.jsp
The mammogram provides proof that a mass exists in your breast area. I got to see my mammogram immediately following the x-rays, and was shown where the mass is located. The technician was very nice and explained the whole process to me beforehand so there were no nasty surprises. The next day, I was a little sore.

Immediately following the mammogram, I had an ultrasound (aka sonogram); well immediately following the snacks. My local hospital has this great snack collection of fruit cups, graham crackers (and other carb delights), and tea/cocoa for the ladies waiting for their next x-rays. The ultrasound provides the radiologist with a clearer picture of the shape and size of the mass. The ultrasound told my medical providers that I should meet with a surgeon, because whether or not the mass was malignant, it needed to be removed.

My mass is oddly shaped. I think that I was told it was 1.6cm x 1.8cm. Basically, the lump was described as very worrisome. I wish that I could remember the exact phrasing, but I believe that "worrisome due to malignancy concerns" was the statement on my lab report.

So next on my medical agenda was an appointment with the local surgeon...