The Mastectomy Marathon: Where's My Finisher's Medal???

Well, my friends, the deed is done.  My old boobs are no more.  The whole experience has been sort of like a marathon.  First, I had to get up really early in the morning and drive 30 minutes to a starting line of sorts (the hospital), then I endured a 6-hour-long event (my surgery), and now I'm pretty sore from it all.

Of course, the one big difference is that they don't give you narcotics at the finish line of a real marathon, which is something that race directors may want to think about.

Surgery day is kind of a blur in my mind because I was knocked out or doped up for most of it.  Here's what I do remember of it:

My surgery was scheduled for 7:30am, and I had to arrive at 6am to get checked in and prepped for surgery.  I put on my sexy hospital gown, got started with an IV, and endured a steady stream of nurses and doctors coming into my room to ask me questions and give me information about what was going to happen.  A radiologist came in and injected a radioactive element in my left breast that would be used to locate my sentinel lymph nodes (the first nodes draining away from my breast).  These nodes would be biopsied during surgery to determine if my cancer had spread at all.  (Spoiler alert: my nodes were all clear - YAY!)

Just before I was wheeled back to the operating room, I was given some Versed to help me relax.  I was sooooo relaxed, like, yeeeahhh maaaaaan.  *makes flowy motions with hands*

Once I was in the OR, I had to scoot from my bed to the operating table, and all of a sudden there were a whole bunch people swarming me - nurses, doctors, assistants, probably a few of my 2nd cousins and I think I even saw Elvis in there.  The anesthesiologist leaned down to tell me he was going to start my anesthesia and before I knew it, I was out like a light.

Twenty seconds later, I woke up.  Well, it felt like 20 seconds to me.  I imagine it felt much longer than that for my family and friends who were waiting for updates and results.  The actual surgery took 6 hours.  SIX HOURS.  You see, I had two surgeons working on me at the same time: a breast surgeon, who performed the mastectomy, and a plastic surgeon, who performed the reconstruction.  The mastectomy itself only takes a couple of hours, but the reconstruction is a much more involved procedure.

Upon waking, I felt zero pain and was really dizzy, as if I had just drunk 4 glasses of wine in rapid succession.  I spent about 20 or 30 minutes in the recovery room waiting for the room to stop spinning.  My mouth was extremely dry from not drinking any liquids in the previous 14 hours, so I was extremely grateful when the nurse offered me ice chips.  Then she offered me a grape popsicle, and I felt like I had won the frickin' lottery! 

I was wheeled down to my hospital room where I would spend the night.   My room was comfortable and cozy, and I actually slept pretty well that night despite the constant beeping of monitoring equipment, and the inflation-deflation cycle of my calf compression wraps.  I had completely lost my voice from being intubated during surgery, so I had to croak out my requests to the nurses and food service staff.  That was a hoot.  Somehow though, everyone understood me.  They must get a lot of voiceless people coming out of surgery.

Fast forward to now:  I am recovering at home.  I'm doped up on Percocet.  Mila won't get off my lap.  I'm loving my comfy recliner.  I'm already running out of shows to binge watch.  The pain comes and goes, and as long as I keep up with my meds, it's tolerable.  (Again, does this not sound like the day after running a marathon???)  My range of motion is pretty limited (I can't put my own hair in a ponytail), but I am keeping up with the stretching exercises I was given and it seems to be slowly improving.

Today I managed a slow 2 mile walk around my neighborhood.  It was good to get the legs moving.  I'm not allowed to run for 6 weeks (*sobs uncontrollably*), but I'm strongly encouraged to walk as much as is comfortable, so that will be my fitness plan for the next 6 weeks.

I guess you could say I'm officially cancer-free now, which is pretty awesome!  I wasn't kidding when I said I was here to kick ass. 

*roundhouse kicks the air because arms are not able to karate chop right now* 

Take that, cancer!!!

*falls over because...  Percocet*

Well, it's the thought that counts, right?