Hi friends! Again, thumb typing while on pain meds, so pardon my spelling and stuff.
Just wanted to let you know what happened during Day 3 (with surgery being Day 1).
Today, I was able to get out of bed much easier, take a shower, brush my teeth. And of course, when possible, I could type.
I still haven’t looked down. Even when the nurse was getting me into the shower, I closed my eyes during the whole thing. I wouldn’t get dressed in front of the mirror, either. I guess I’m just not ready.
The most painful part, I think, are these damn drains. They are thick plastic tubings that are snakes under my skin, around my breasts, and out some holes in my side. Nope, can’t look at those either.
For the most part, I am in and out of sleep. When I’m awake, I’m fully awake — talking, laughing. But when that pain kicks in, all I can so is fall asleep and hope for the best. I know the pain is temporary, but it does hurt like , well, like a mastectomy.
Now that I’m here, I’m really thankful for the “marathon” piece of this journey. Even as a plus sized woman, my muscles were strong and helped me to move around earlier than most people. And, though it hurts to breathe with each rising and falling of my chest, I know that my lungs were strong going into this surgery.
So I’m back at home – both relieved and a bit anxious. We’ve already locked the door in my bedroom to avoid the dog and kids jumping into the bed. It’s a funny feeling, really: being home yet being in forced and protective isolation.
Regrets? None. This was the right thing to do. And yet, this is one of the most selfless acts in my life. Sure, I did it for me. But, truthfully, I did it for Jorge and the kids. I had a choice here, and I know that is a privilege others do not have. It seemed selfish to want to ignore the risks; selfless to gift this reduced risk to my family.
I don’t know what I look like under this compression bra, stitch protection, and drains. I do know that I made a choice to save my life. My life has a whole new meaning, one of thanks, gratitude, recognition of privilege, and love.
I had a mastectomy. Elective. My choices from here on in are in relation to this journey. It’s been scary, fun, joyous, and painful. It’s been educational, curious, and very personal.
Thank you for allowing me the room to share this Marathon b4 Mastectomy. And while I recover, I’ll be checking out future 1/2 marathons to run!
Who’s with me???
Peace, love, and finally at Zen,