On any given Monday morning in June you can find me with my four kids running around town, maybe to the store, or on a walk to a park or nature center. We would be making plans for lunch with friends and a quiet afternoon rest followed by a water fight in the back yard.
But last Monday, the first day of June, looked a little different. At least for me. My kids were still owning their warm summer morning, but this time with their grandma as I was wheeled into my second surgery following my BRCA diagnosis in November.
Last Monday, one week ago today I was in the operating room for my bilateral mastectomy with reconstruction. Thankfully, this event had been saturated in prayers from my church family, and my family and friends. I felt calm and assured, and Cameron kept the mood light. I was thankful to be headed into the operation with a clear handle on what life would look like afterward, I felt prepared.
About four hours later I woke up in my room. I don't remember much, slipping in and out of thick anesthesia. But as the minutes ticked by I remember my first coherent thoughts.
-I can't breath.
I could breath, but I could not take a deep breath. I was laying flat on my back with what felt like concrete blocks sitting on my chest.
-I could not move
This was not an exaggeration. I felt paralyzed, I could not even lift my arm off of the bed. I had oxygen in my nose to assist my shallow breathing and my nose was itching, but I could not lift my arm to scratch it. Later, a nurse came in and told me to roll over. Roll over??? Was she nuts? No. I told her sternly. I am NOT rolling over. Thankfully she didn't make me.
-I wanted to cry
But I didn't, because I knew it would hurt.
About an hour passed, maybe a couple of hours, and I finally woke up enough to realize that I would probably be more comfortable if I could scoot up in the bed so that I could elevate my head and wouldn't be lying flat on my back anymore. But I still felt paralyzed. So two nurses came in and grabbed the four corners of the sheet I was laying on. I remember pleading with them to go slow when they counted to 3 and quickly slid me up the bed. I heard myself make the strangest pain-induced groan. And then it was over and I was instantly 100 x more comfortable. I'm thankful they didn't go slow.
The next morning was remarkably different. My pain was now under control and I had function back in my arms. I could scratch my own nose!! Cameron sent rapid updates to family and friends on my progress.
-She can lift her arms!
-She is sitting on the side of the bed!
-She just stood up!
-She took a walk around the room!
-We are going home after lunch.
At about 3pm Tuesday, we were back home and I was sitting in a borrowed electric recliner surrounded by pillows. I have been in this recliner for about 23 1/2 hours of every day for the past week. I have been on constant round-the-clock pain meds, Demerol and Ibuprofen, which have kept the pain at bay. Mostly what I experience is a strange numbness and a tight feeling. It feels like I am wrapped tightly in bandages, but there is nothing there. The expanders are big and hard, It feels like they half of them are in my armpits. I can feel pressure, but otherwise there is no feeling yet. I also have two drainage tubes, one on each side (I was expecting four, so this was a pleasant surprise). These tubes are annoying and totally gross if I think about them too long.
I have far more function than I thought I would. I can take a shower and wash my own hair, I can open the refrigerator and put on my own socks, all things I thought would be impossible in the first week. I still need help with lifting things, reaching for things, and twisting things open like jars or door knobs.
I have a follow-up appointment with my plastic surgeon today in which I am hoping to get my drains removed and to come back with a good progress report. I am happy to report today that the pathology reports on my breast tissue came back cancer free! Praise the Lord for his lovingkindness!
I want to close up this report with some encouragement. When I first was faced with BRCA, I confided in my closest friends and family, but hesitated to open up to the church, let alone the public. I didn't want people looking at me and thinking about all of my personal issues, like new boobs and menopause... but as I walked this road I knew it would be nearly impossible to face without being open and honest with the community of believers that I do life with on a daily basis.
The Christian life is not meant to be lived in isolation. God designed it for fellowship. Fellowship with Him and fellowship with other believers. If I had kept quiet with my situation and foolishly, stubbornly, and pridefully tried to tackle this on my own, I would be far worse off. By opening myself up to the love and service of the church, I have experienced love and healing on a level I had not known before, in spirit, body, heart, and mind.
Our church family has blessed us with meals, lawn care, essential oils, daily fun gifts to make me smile, and countless Bible verses to keep our eyes on Jesus. I can't imagine how this would have gone without them.
So, if you are facing BRCA, or cancer, or any other challenge, open up to your church family. Live your life in community with other believers and be blessed.
You can follow daily updates on Instagram @gracefullhome
My deepest thanks to you for your prayers on my behalf and praise to God for his provision and lovingkindness.