A (really) rough draft

I like to think of myself, at this very moment, as a rough draft. A really rough draft.
I am one week and two days post-surgery. Today, I feel I am doing fantastic. The first few days, as I expected, were ROUGH. Really rough. I was actually in the hospital a day later than they had planned originally. My surgery was on Thursday and I was discharged Monday.
As I said before, this was my biggest surgery. They did a left prophylactic mastectomy, which means they opened up my left breast AGAIN, took my implant out, took my breast tissue out and put an expander in. On the right they did the lat flap, in which they took skin from my back, wrapped it around my front, and put an expander under, AGAIN. This marks the second expander on the right side. And the fifth total surgery on the right side. So all in all, you could think of it as four surgeries at once (thus making it my biggest): lat flap on my back, mastectomy, expander 1 and expander 2. And yes, FOUR drains. And a catheter for the first day, something I've never had before. But they took that out quickly. You could imagine my shock when I woke up from the surgery and had a tube "you-know-where." I think (in my post-anethesia stage I barely remember) I asked the nurse to "please remove the tube between my legs," and she said she couldn't and that it was a catheter.

But the ultimate hardest was the first few days after surgery when I was in the hospital. I didn't eat or walk, and wasn't able to sit up in bed without feeling lightheaded or dizzy. The second day (and maybe into the third?) I was on a serious Morphine drip, which helped the pain, but of course gave me that sick, nauseous, head-achey feeling, rendering me unable to eat two bites of graham cracker. (Hospital meals of flounder and meatloaf were less than appealing at that time.) Pain medication - real pain medication that works - is tricky. It helps the pain, tremendously, but for me, it gives me a terrible migraine, terrible itchiness all over my body, and terrible nausea. So after a certain point I declare it isn't worth it. I'd rather be able to eat and move and not have a headache. So after a few days they took me off the Morphine drip and put me on oral Vicodin, which didn't seem to do much, but I WAS walking and eating eventually, and that was important.
My favorite Morphine memory (it might have been a different drug the day of surgery) was when the nurses were transporting me from post-op to my permanent hospital bed and room. They pretty move you on their own. Pick you up from one bed to the next, since I couldn't move at all. Once they got me all settled in my hospital bed they handed me my "button" and explained again (I had already heard the directions in the post-op room) about how to press the button when I needed pain relief, and my IV would automatically send me the medicaion. They also explained that even if I pressed it 100 times I wouldn't overdose because it's set up in a way that doesn't allow that. (Well, I would hope so). Anyway, they handed me my "button" and said "this is going to be your new best friend," and I remember saying, "it already is."
I power through the beginning stages of surgery recovery by reminding myself that all of this pain and discomfort is temporary, that this surgery was my choice, and that when it's all over, I can move on. It's hard to do that when you're up in the middle of the night at the hospital, and you kind of remember everything you're dealing with. The nurse comes in to help you walk to the bathroom, and you first gather all four drains in your hospital gown and hobble over, trying to take deep breaths, and feeling pain everywhere (mostly my back the first few days), and get sad thinking I am holding four drains while I'm going to the bathroom and the nurse has to put my socks on for me. And then I remember: THIS IS TEMPORARY. I'm young and I'm strong and I'm going to get better. These nurses were angels. Gifts from G-d. They washed my back, listened to me, came running anytime I needed anything, joked with me, were sensitive, kind, amazing. I let them take care of me because I knew it was temporary. I let them put my socks on to go to the bathroom. I let them push my IV pole. Let them hold my water cup so I could take pills. I let them help me because I KNEW I would get better. And just like my other four surgeries, I knew I would get better if I TRIED to get better. I so pushed myself (in the beginning) to eat. (That became easier when I ordered chicken fingers and fries for dinner). I pushed myself to take deep breaths like they told me to, even though it hurt. I pushed myself to walk and sit up and do everything I could. And I started healing quickly. And I still am.
Fast forward to today: My drains were removed Thursday, so I am able to walk around easier without them pulling on me. The only pain medication I take is Tylonal, and the occasional Vicodin before bed. My pain is pretty minimal right now. I'm getting better and feeling better. But because I have a long road ahead of me, I'm still a rough draft.
While I'm (the draft) is being "worked on," here's what will happen: my expansion saline fills will begin within the month, and will take anywhere from 4-6 months. When my doctor and I decide they are a good size, we'll let them sit about a month, with no fills, and then schedule my next surgery. The next surgery I'll get my expanders out and my silicone implants in. And because they had to remove my right nipple for the lat flat surgery, my doctor will make me a new nipple on the right. That process, as I've been told, is fairly easy, and involves only a few doctor visits. (some skin twisting and a tattoo).
So right now I'm a rough draft. Look at me and I'm nowhere near complete. We're just getting started. But like any good writer knows, a rough draft can become a well-polished piece.

Nowhere near complete. Uneven skin and steri-strips, and plenty of bandages covering where the drains used to be. Rough draft. It's rough. But at least it got started. This surgery I was dreading is over. I knew it was going to be hard, and it WAS. REALLY, REALLY HARD. Still is. But it's done. And we've started.
I'm letting myself take naps throughout the day. Letting myself lay in bed, watching Will & Grace and The Golden Girls while I play Words with Friends on my iPhone. Letting myself eat pizza and chocolate cake. Letting myself cry and feel bad for myself. But then reminding myself: I am not sick. I'm going to be good as new. My new breasts will be amazing. And I'm not sick. I don't have breast cancer. (knock on wood!) And finally, finally, BOTH my breasts are gone. SUCH a relief.
So I may be a rough draft now, but I won't be forever. The finished product: the breast cancer is behind me. The finished product is two permanent implants and my life moving on. We've already started.
So here's to the finished product. Let's never let it far from our view.