Saying Goodbye to Old Friends: ATribute to Breast Cancer Survivors from a 2X Survivor Part 2

As promised, I am journaling my second experience with breast cancer. After the initial shock of learning that I would have a mastectomy wore off, I weighed (no pun intended) my options. I was told that I could have reconstructive breast surgery. Well, as much as I hate to admit it. I did absolutely no research. I went blindly to my appointment with the plastic surgeon (we are now pals) expecting to get the bad cut off and a new one magically made.

“Barbara, are you ready for your prosthesis?” Huh? What? “Nooo…” I was in shock. I heard Charlie Brown “wah-wahs”. Something about not a good candidate, previous radiation, won’t heal properly…wah-wah! Tears--lots of them. The first I had ever shed either time when discussing cancer. I wiped them away, and with a sad smile, I mumbled something about vanity. I finally said that there was no need to stare at one another; I would just have to accept it. I did hang my head, though. Just as I was leaving, my surgeon glanced at those two pillows in front of me. “Let me get your measurements.” So, he did. After some thought, he informed me that I would be able to have an implant. A brief thought of foreign objects in body…bad implants….wah-wah. “Okay!”

Never once did I research anything about implants. So the big day came. I was on the operating table for over 6 hours. Two surgeons worked on me like a professional tag team, while I drifted into another world. I had a mastectomy. The surgeon left enough skin (being well-endowed worked in my favor) for the implant. Don’t want to be lop-sided. So, a breast reduction was performed on the other side. My family and friends (ya gotta have your cheering section) were waiting for details. Surgery was fine. Here is her card with the serial numbers for her implant. Yep, just like an air bag. If it gets lost or stolen, deflates or inflates accidentally, I can get a replacement! Who knew? One night in the hospital, then home. Do these exercises, blow in this contraption, and see you next week. Oh, pain medication—take as needed.

Wow, I had cancer. I had two breasts that I came in this world with, and in six hours all of that had changed. Now, I have a foreign object in my body on one side, and a much smaller breast on the other. What an odd feeling thing this new boob is! How does Hollywood do it? My own breast is so soft and natural. Even in my youth, I never experienced this type of firmness. I explored the touch and sensation of both for comparison. Strange, very strange. This has made me think about those who have had extensive plastic surgery. How does their face feel? In fact, can they feel anything?

Well, this summer should be fun. Yes! Sundresses here I come. Well, not exactly, because ten days later, I was in the hospital with pneumonia. Three days later, I was back home. Six days later, back in—infection? Not sure-IV’s and antibiotics. HOME! But, in two days I was back in the hospital. It seems that fluid was collecting around the implant. Nooo! More tears-real ones and lots of them. I was so weary from the pain, and the pneumonia. I was short on energy, because I am still in school. So, I had come home and started cranking out papers to make up for lost time. And no, I did not breathe into that silly apparatus! I went for a walk, which I felt should suffice. Voila-pneumonia! Anyway back to my fourth visit. The implant was removed, the area was washed thoroughly and a larger implant replaced the old one. I am a warrior. I am never a victim-I survive. God is awesome!

So, today as I write these words, I still have one drip in and those strange healing sensations. The pain has substantially subsided. I rarely need a pain pill. My energy level is getting better. I have ventured outside for short periods. But, in my winter climate, the cold is not a friend to healing. So, I spend a great deal of time inside. I see the surgeon weekly. That is why we are buddies, now. I have a home health nurse, who in all of my stubbornness, I did not want. I have to admit, that each time I went into the hospital after the pneumonia bout, she initiated the visit. She has been instrumental in my journey to healing.

I am somewhat introverted right now. I screen my calls, much to the dismay of my diligent friends. My mother wants me to talk to everyone who calls. I prefer music and my laptop. Every phone conversation lasts much longer than I intend to talk. I love my friends. I miss them. However, I really need this time with myself. A lot has happened to me. I need to be with this new emerging person. I want to be with her—alone. I am asked often what I need. Food, water and shelter. I love the cards, prayers, and the posies my neighbors placed on my porch. I love flowers for the living-never get enough! My dog loved the walks friends shared with her. My mother has appreciated trips to the market. I think it is wonderful to be loved, cared for and about. These are the times when you see who is there through sick and sin. And, I have seen.

This is the holiday season. I won’t be shopping for gifts. I cannot prepare the big holiday dinners. I won’t be decorating the tree. I have not seen my father in the nursing home for over a month. I miss him. I love that man. So much of me is him. He would be right here seeing what he could do, picking my spirits up and cheering me on. I have to take that knowledge, and fight the good fight. I know I will—I am.
What do I need? To embrace all that I am meant to be. That, a car and some cash! So, now you know. Stay tuned.