Anne SG and the Big C

I am home from the hospital, having had my double mastectomy.  It was an ordeal, to say the least.  The surgery itself went quite well apparently and when I awoke, everyone was beaming and telling me how well everything went.  The pathology report just came in today (Tuesday) and it says that I had 4 invasive cancers ranging in size from 1/2 cm to 4cm in size.  The best part is that although those tumors were invasive, they had not yet managed to invade my lymph nodes.  So, long story short, the news was as good as it could be!

The day before the surgery was grueling to say the least, and the day of the surgery was a lesson in patience since I had to wait, starving, all day to go in. I remember pretty much nothing at all about Friday, though Jay tells me I promised him a 47″ 1080p LCD tv, among other things.  Having my dad, his dad, and him around was sort of fun–not a threesome I usually see, but  nice to see them there all in support of me and of each other.  My godparents and godsister stopped by on their way from Ft. Lauderdale to Charlotte and it was wonderful to see them, too.

Saturday was pretty brutal, as the morphine’s side effects overpowered me, though I really did love having that magic button to take away what was some pretty awful pain.  But later that day they put me on Percoset and that helped a lot–by that evening I could stomach some food and crack a few jokes. I even forced poor Jay and Dad into playing Yahtzee with me.  We came home Sunday afternoon and I’ve been doing really well since then.  The pain is certainly there and I’m moving slowly, but I am thrilled to be past the surgery and back home with my kids.

As I change my clothes each morning and prepare to shower I look at my battle scarred chest, which is almost unreal to me.  I force myself to look because it is, for now, the reality of who I am.  Eventually there will be a full reconstruction and I’ll be relatively normal again soon.  But I don’t want to forget this time and everything I’m experiencing, and what the experience is carving on my soul.  The scars–these horrible huge gashes–and the drains attached to my side–make me feel less like an invalid than a bionic woman. I have been around more space-age looking machines lately than I ever imagined existed in the world.  And what miracles they can perform in everyday lives today!