Port Surgery: Part Deux (Plus Gross Pictures! YAY!)

Finally..

FINALLY

The port is out.

Annnnnnnd apparently I say hilarious things when coming out of sedation.


Let me recap yesterday's events for you.

After a long and grueling plan ride home from Boston, I spent the night at my parents' house. When I came home, they had a room all prepared for me; complete with flowers on the bureau (courtsey of my mother). I slept fitfully that night, wondering what was going to happen, how I would feel afterwards and if it would be a painful procedure. Yet, the next morning, despite hours of restlessness, I felt strangely focused. I kept thinking to myself, "This is the end. There is nothing more after this. Just a few days of recouperation and that's it." It was a comforting thought, giving me increased focus as I lay waiting in the day surgery hospital bed. I was waiting for my bloodwork to be analyzed before I could have the device surgically removed from underneath my collarbone. The nurse hooked me up to a drip of preventitive antibiotics and told me some jokes as he brought a fresh bag of saline. The events of my most recent vacation flooded my memory and I felt deep pangs of loneliness for my friends. I knew that I wouldn't be so scared if they were there with me. I gritted my teeth and hardened my jaw, trying to hold back tears. I missed them dearly.

My Mom dropped me off at the 2nd floor day surgery center and waited for me in the lobby, reading a wrinkled and tired old copy of "Women's Day". I made up my mind the night before that I wanted to do this myself. I don't know why. Maybe its because mom gets nervous and queasy in the hospital, or maybe it was because I wanted to prove something to myself; that I can do it alone, that I'm strong. Either way, I was there now, by myself. I was scheduled for an 8:15 surgery and I anxiously watched the clock as the nurses asked me routine questions about my port. I met with the surgeon who had friendly green eyes and held my hand. It was almost as if he could sense how nervous and frightened I was, but respected my decision to go it alone. All of the staff paid extra attention to me and congratulated me on completing my treatment so successfully and quickly. Soon, the OR nurses wheeled me into the operating room and asked me to lay on the operating table. They introduced themselves and propped me up on a triagular shaped cushion so my head was elevated. They rolled back my hospital gown and taped it to my chest like a toga and stuck on these sticky EKG senors on my chest, back and arms. Afterward, I could hear the familiar OR room "BEEP!... BEEP!...BEEP!", measuring my heart rate. The staff placed an oxygen tube underneath my nostrils and told me that I should be getting sleepy and woozy. In a matter of moments, the whole room was spinning and the voices were fuzzy and mumbling. Feelings of deep relief washed over me, removing any semblance of anxiety from my mind. The nurse held my hand and explained that they were going to give me some Lidocaine to numb the incision site, but that is the last thing I remember.
It must have been toward the end of my surgery, but I remember waking up to a most strange sensation. It felt like someone was lacing their shoelaces in my chest. I felt no pain, but an odd sense of pulling. I assume that it was the surgeon suturing my wound. The nurses reported that as I was waking up, I said, "you're the best doctor EVER!..This doesn't hurt at all!!"

Later, I awoke in the recovery room, where the nurses offered me apple juice, crackers and pudding. From previous experiences, I was partial to the juice and crackers. Pudding and I do not have a good history. (See older posts) My mother came back briefly to talk to me, the substance of this conversation is lost with time... I have no idea what I was saying at all. She went to get my pain meds from the upstairs pharmacy and soon after she left, the nurse took out my IV and helped me dress. I borrowed a pair of my mother's fleece pajama bottoms; they had Christmas Snoopys all over them. I dont remember much about the ride home and I'm assuming that I fell asleep, but now, I'm feeling pretty good. I am definitely tender. It is really really hard to lift anything, even light things. Apparently, my port was stitched into my muscle and in order to remove it, they had to unstitch it from my chest wall. I am so pleased that I can't see the damn thing anymore; no more weird marks and lumps in my chest... no more painful car rides and seatbelts that scrape. No more bra straps to alter and resew! More importantly, my surgeon removed the ugly keloid scar and replaced it was a nicer, more cosmetic scar that will leave a very small mark behind.

Check the gross pics below! One of the bandaged up and swollen incision area. And after it has healed a bit.





I feel like myself again. :)

Pomp and Circumstance

My heart feels like it is bursting right now...So many feelings rushing through me. Graduation and reunion is always an emotional experience for me. I feel so immensely privileged and touched to have been given the time to make such fulfilling and satisfying friendships. I feel sadness and gratitude; this easily cold never have happened yet, things turned out this way--for the better no doubt!

I've said this once before, but I guess I'll say it again. Cancer has taken so many things from me; my energy, my body, my sense of certainty and so many unspoken but equally as devastating aspects of life. Nothing has ever been the same since my diagnosis. If anything has changed for the better, it is my sense of calm, quietude, and peace with the universe. I learned that I cannot control what happened to me and all of little things that come along with it. A good friend of mine once explained a concept that really resonated with me. She likened life to a looped arrow where the peak of the loop represents the time that you take, in the present moment, for yourself to just deal with everything you're experiencing; to give yourself the permission and the time to experience and cope with the feelings, emotions and needs that arise as a part of cancer treatment. I always felt like my mission during my treatment was to arrive at the end goal; naturally, remission is a pretty good goal, but being too focused on moving forward without acknowledging needs can create internal conflicts. I ignored all of my feelings of fear and vulnerability; I denied the fact that I wanted support. I didn't tell many people I was sick, even though cancer is about as serious as it can get. I never allowed myself to feel these things; mainly for survival reasons. I don't think I would have survived or done nearly as well if I had been too focused on the possibility of death.

I am giving myself permission to just be where I am right now, without worrying about all of the lofty goals I have for myself, though I always keep them in my mind. It is my goal to attempt to achieve balance in my life. That means no more dead-end jobs that don't pay enough or aren't worth my time and talents. That means going to bed at reasonable hours and letting the laundry go undone for just one more day. It is allowing myself to call in sick without feeling that the whole place is going to fall down without me as well as the permission to play hooky once or twice. Things that people *should* be doing for themselves.

Sadly, it seemed that many of the people outside of my circle of friends (not all) that I talked with had pretty trivial problems in comparison to the shit-show that is cancer. That is not to say, however, that their experiences are not important simply because it wasn't cancer or something else equally as horrible. Moreso that I had a hard time identifying with these mini-crises. This all makes me seem jaded and bitter, but don't have I a right to be right now? Perhaps this entry seems whiny and bitchy, but it is truly how I'm feeling. I had a hard time feeling patient and sensitive at times. Despite some of the frustrating aspects of graduation/reunion, I enjoyed reconnecting with my friends and solidifying and strengthening relationships that were previously just acquaintances. I am hoping that I get to see them again soon because I already miss them!


I totally forgot to mention this!! I am getting my port removed on the 21st at 7 am; the morning after returning from vacation. I am SO freakin happy to have this thing removed. It usually doesn't get removed unless they're not worried about needing to use it again. I am scared, but happy at the same time; this is the one thing that is holding me back from feeling like a normal human being. I am so excited to return to better eating, exercising, and taking time for myself as well as working/finishing school.

Long Over-Due Update: FROM IDAHO!

The past few weeks or so have been ridiculously busy. After finishing radiation treatments, we finally moved out my parents' downstairs bedroom. Who knew one could accrue so much CRAP after 7 months? We definitely had to take two trips to be officially moved. Since then, we've spent our spare time trying to find work here in Idaho (which is, I might say,a non-existent job market!) and putting away all of our things. We've also been purging and cleaning a lot, which makes everything feel new, refreshed; almost like I've been shedding a past life..the life that I had suffering with cancer. I got rid of 90% of the clothes I wore during my chemotherapy because looking at them or wearing them makes me feel sick. I can't stand them being in my drawers or in my closet, so to the donation bin they go!
Yesterday, I planted basil in the pots outside my door and started germinating my sunflower seeds, which will, when hardy enough, grow against the fence in our backyard. It made me think of Piper a little and caused a twinge of Smith-homesickness.
Oh, how I've missed this place! The crops are beginning to sprout along the hills, shading them in gentle green and tawny curves. The sparrows and chickadees are scrounging the ground and you can see quail and their hatchlings hurrying along the dusty country roads. I can't wait until my sunflowers are fully grown! I often wish for a nice little house with a small patch of land where I can start a vegetable and herb garden. I guess after so much turmoil, I'm looking for simplicity and peace; to go back to a 'normal' life. I'll be there soon, I'm sure.

I am THRILLED to report that my hair is looking more full and thicker everyday. Right now, I'm even contemplating a haircut because it is so long in the back! Right now, my bangs are long enough to be swept to one side, making for a choppy, cropped pixie cut look. No more friar tuck, thankfully. I bet everyone will be surprised when I see them at reunion. My hair is incredibly short compared to what I used to have; 12+ inches of red Shirley Temple curls! The only thing that's still growing in are my STUPID eyebrows. I guess there is always something!