Thursday's surgery: the rundown

Things in my life happen fast. Only a week after we got back from Europe is when my surgery is scheduled: July 19. Here’s a rundown to remind you what will be happening. It’s been six months since my last surgery. For me, that feels like an eternity.
Right side: expander put in. If you remember, my implant was removed in January because it caused my skin to rip. To prevent this from happening again, they will be removing skin and fat from my back and putting it OVER the expander.
Left side: mastectomy with expander.
So I’ll have operations on both sides of my chest, plus my back. Two expanders this time – one on each side – and possibly two drains. From here, reconstruction begins. Four to six months (or more) of eventual weekly saline fills in the expanders, followed by (hopefully my FINAL) implant surgery where I’ll receive silicone implants (again) permanently.
Part of me doesn’t want this surgery. Part of my feels like kicking and screaming into the operating room. For the past six months I’ve been able to (mostly) live my life normally. Exercise. Go running. Ride a bike. Travel to Europe. Sure, I’ve been without a breast one on side and have had to wear a prosthesis. But the pain has been minimal. (well, minimal compared to what it WILL be with the expanders.)
But this surgery is something I DECIDED to do. Because of the LFS, having the other breast removed significantly reduces my risk of getting breast cancer again. It will significantly reduce my worries and anxieties. It will help protect me. And getting the reconstruction process started again will bring me one step closer to my permanent implants, which is one step closer to putting the breast cancer behind me – something I haven’t been able to do since my April 2011 diagnosis.
I underwent four surgeries since April 2011. Having surgery again feels like another huge setback. The recovery time, plus learning to do everything all over again: opening the car door, driving, lifting weights. Everything takes work and patience and healing. I’ve been able to LIVE my life now. Been able to function pretty normally. The expanders will take that away from me. But I HAVE to remember the long term: I have wanted to get the second breast removed for about a year. It’s finally happening. Long term: less worry about breast cancer. Long term: reconstruction done. Long term: FINALLY moving on.

An update after yesterday's appointments ...

Monday I went to Hershey for all of my pre-op appointments. First I met with Dr. Moyer, my plastic surgeon. He explained what would happen during the surgery, and what everything will entail. Basically, I will be an “octopus,” he said. When I asked about the drains, I was thinking I’d have two – one for each side of my chest. But he smiled and pointed his thump upwards, indicating more. I’ll have FOUR drains. Two for my chest, and two for my back. Octopus, yes. Gross? Also yes.
Right side: take skin from my back and wrap it around to my front. Put the expander under. They won’t be CUTTING my back skin and putting it on my chest; they’ll be WRAPPING it. This is important because it means I don’t lose blood supply and I’ll have extra skin to help with the expansion. (this SHOULD prevent what happened last time, which was my skin ripping around my implant.)
Left side: using the same incision from my implant surgery (just a little longer), they will remove my implant, take the breast tissue out (mastectomy), and then insert an expander.
The whole surgery will take 4-5 hours.
After Moyer we met with the anesthesia department and they did the whole “drill.” Asked about my medications, did a quick EKG, listened to my heart and lungs, etc.
After that was my breast MRI. A very uncomfortable 30 minutes on the table. But the results came back that day and everything was FINE!
Tomorrow we head to Hershey in the afternoon to meet with Dr. Kass (my breast surgeon), and sign the final consent for the mastectomy. Then we’ll spend the night in Hershey, because my surgery is Thursday. Because of the back flap part of the surgery, I’m looking at a 2-3 day stay in the hospital. My mom and Sean will stay in Hershey at a hotel during that time. And Sean's parents will also be there for the surgery.
Those who know me very well (or even a little well) KNOW this surgery is something I am dreading but also something I’ve been wanting to do for quite some time. The short-term sucks. Lots of recovery and re-learning things. Healing. Taking a break from my amazing life to be cut up AGAIN.
But we KNOW once the other breast is removed my chances of getting breast cancer again are very slim. We KNOW I won’t have to worry about getting breast cancer again the way I would if I didn’t get the other mastectomy. We KNOW I am taking action – doing everything I can do at this very moment – to make sure I don’t get breast cancer again.
We KNOW once the expanders are done and my reconstruction is complete, I can feel “whole again” – like nothing is missing. I can feel back to myself. Wear regular bras and clothes and bathing suits. I’ll have “breasts.” They won’t be real and they won’t be mine, but I didn’t want mine, anyway. These will be better. They won’t be ticking time bombs. They won’t carry the risk of breast cancer. They will be safe. My new “breasts” will be SAFE. They’ll make me feel SAFE. That is so much. That is so much to me. So much to someone who can’t sleep because she is worried about getting cancer again. Someone who just assumes she has breast cancer (even if she doesn’t) unless she’s told otherwise. Someone who gets sick over mammogram and MRI results. Someone who is afraid to even just touch, by accident, her breast, because she’s afraid she’ll feel a lump. Someone who has to power through the fear of taking showers every day, because a shower is where she found the lump in the first place.
That is so much.
This surgery will take away all that. It will take it away. That is so much.
There’s always the fear of breast cancer returning, even without breast tissue. But the chances are small. So small. There’s always the fear, especially with LFS, of another, new primary cancer. But having my other breast removed takes away a huge part of that. It will give me so much relief. Again, my new “breasts” will be safe. SAFE. I’ll feel safe. I haven’t felt SAFE from cancer in a long time.
I’ll never BE safe from cancer as a whole. There’s always a risk when you have Li Fraumeni Syndrome. But, like I always say, I can’t remove my skin and my brain and my colon and my fatty tissue and everything on my body that could potentially develop cancer. But I CAN remove my breasts. And I will. And Thursday’s surgery will complete that.
SAFE.
Thursday marks the start of so much. The start of THIS again. The surgery after the wedding and after the honeymoon. We start the process of me feeling safe, and we start the process of me getting my body back.
But we also start the process of healing and recovery and emptying (four … gross) drains. We start the Percocet and the back pain and the sleepless nights. My mom washing my hair over the tub since I can’t take a shower with drains. Long days of TV and movies. Recovering and waiting. When can I lift my arms above my head? When can I wear a bra? When can I wear normal clothes instead of shirts that open in the front?
How long until I can lift my arms to blow dry my hair? Does my incision look OK? Is it healing properly? Me being afraid to move and afraid I’ll “break something” on my body. Me being super cautious and super scared. Not wanting to hurt myself.
The interim sucks. It SUCKS. I don’t want to stop my life to recover again. I don’t want to be cut up again and heal again. I don’t want to miss work again. The middle SUCKS. The middle is YUCKY. But at the end? The end I feel safe and I feel whole and I can move on. The end? Breast cancer is behind me.
Fast forward. Past the surgery and the recovery. Past the weekly expander fills. Past the “exchange surgery” where my expanders come out and my implants are put in. Past the recovery from that surgery. Past all that. Scars are healed.
Fast forward. The breast cancer is behind me. Six words. Those six words are everything. They’re so much I’ll say them again: the breast cancer is behind me.
Because I so BADLY want to get to those six words, I am ready to power through this next surgery. I’m putting on my iron muscles and I’m ready for battle. Not because I want the middle. But because I want the end.