Surgery Tuesday

I finished chemo nearly three weeks ago and there has been a slow and steady improvement in my health. It’s like watching your hair grow, you don’t notice but all of a sudden you’ve got regrowth that needs attention or you’re looking untidy and need a trim. My health improvement is like 1% each day but if I look back two weeks, I can see I’ve come some way. But I’m impatient.

This week I’ve started walking further and sometimes twice a day. The oncologist explained that my fluid retention isn’t the regular type and it won’t respond to the fluid tablets the local doctor gave me. Chemotherapy causes damage or thinning of the veins and fluid can leak into muscle tissue. The best way to reduce the fluid is to move the muscles once the veins have had a chance to heal. It’s just this week I’ve noticed improvement and I’m very relieved to not be quite so ‘puffy’.

On Monday I saw the intern of my oncologist. Up until now, my emotional meltdowns have been in the privacy of my own home. I call them sooky la-la moments and reckon they’re healthy. In order to manage emotionally, I chunk my life into sections and deal with each bit as required. I have learned to stay ‘in the moment’ as much as possible and generally cope quite well. I spoke with my Doctor recently about tapping into some counseling after surgery as I want to talk it out and learn some meditation techniques. So there I was, with the intern, a lovely fellow. He told me they had decided to go ahead with the liver biopsy after all. I told him I had been told they might not be able to biopsy the spot as it’s too small but he assured me the ‘team’ had discussed it and they thought it was achievable. 

WHEN?

“There is no hurry, we can wait until after surgery. When would you like to have the biopsy?” he asked.

I don’t even want to have a liver biopsy. The thought of someone sticking a bloody long needle into my guts makes me sick.

“Ummm”, I mumbled. My brain went into overdrive. When will I feel comfortable to lie on a table and be needled after having a boob removed? “I don’t know”. Next year? Never?  

“Perhaps if I suggest? Do you mind if I suggest?” he asked, clearly with an idea.

“No, go ahead”, I trembled, hoping it was months away.

“Let’s do it this week?” he said with a smile.

“NO! No, no, no, no! I can’t!” I exclaimed as I began to cry, and then sob, really sob. I hiccupped my way through, “I… am just… coping with the …thought of having… the surgery. It’s too… much. I can’t!”

He apologized profusely, realizing he had pushed too hard. I think his curiosity had got the better. They so badly want to know what this liver spot is. I just want it on hold until I deal with the breast cancer.

Once the dam had burst, there was no stopping the flow. It was all too much. I thought I was there to start hormone therapy so I mentioned that and the intern scurried away to get the prescription signed by my regular oncologist. He must have told her about my emotional outpouring so she came in with puppy dog eyes and talked me through the whole liver thing again.  Hormone therapy can cause body and joint aches and tiredness (like I need more of that) so they decided to start that in four weeks too, once I’m over the worst of the surgery.

Still crying, I called my local Doctor on the way home and explained what had happened. She told me she would have lost it too. I felt normal. We decided to act on the mental health plan and she booked me in for the next morning. When I saw her, the counselor who works at the surgery had a cancellation, so I got to see her too. I left feeling supported and understood.   

So, next Tuesday May 29, Pauline will be gone; I will have my left breast and about 14 lymph nodes removed. I will be in hospital overnight and probably allowed to go home the next day where I will have a nurse visit for a few days. I wanted both breasts removed, but I’m a higher infection risk because of chemotherapy so one will have to do for now.

Deep breath.

This too shall pass.

X

Kristina