"Yay! I'll get to have a drain again!"
The nurse chuckled. Yes, I was being slightly sarcastic, but only slightly, because this time we're talking about my reconstruction surgery. So it's -- exciting? Strange, but yeah.
I had two drain tubes when I had my mastectomy. So I know what that feels like, what that looks like, how to "somewhat" hide them, how to empty them, and what really matters -- volume, simply volume. I still laugh thinking about how I learned that bit the hard way. Remember? This time I'll only have one. (By the way, I fight Howard-Hughes-ish urges to ask to keep these types of things as morbid cancer-survivor souvenirs. More reasons to pray for me.)
"Which saint is that?" Dr. S asked me. He had just walked into the room with his nurse and a third year med student and he noticed I was holding a saint card. I told him it was St. Anthony, my patron. It happened to be the feast day of St. John Vianney, and we talked about that, daily scripture reading, prayer and reflection apps -- I could have talked to him about faith stuff for hours. But we had to get to it. It had been 10 weeks since I had seen him.
He must have liked what he saw this time because immediately after the exam we were talking about next steps. So it's not "if" it's now "when" we start on reconstruction. I wanted to high five everyone in the room. Keeping it (barely) under control, I told Dr. S this is what I'd been praying for, that I would be able to have the surgery this year. He was working through steps in his head. I'm about four months post-radiation. He said they like it to be six, but by the time the paperwork is done with insurance and they find a place on the schedule for me it will be about right.
Basically there are two options for breast reconstruction: implants or a "flap" procedure that uses skin and fat from another place on your body. There are advantages and disadvantages of each procedure but in the end, Dr. S and I decided the implant option is right for me.
What happens first is that he will install a "tissue expander" where my breast used to be. Which is pretty self-explanatory and, to me, a little gross. In the end when "it" is stretched to the right size, we'll take the expander out and put an implant in. The one complication is that I had radiation, which as he explained it, can affect healing and scarring. So some extra things have to happen to improve the chances of success. Like when I had my mastectomy, and chemo, and radiation, I am aware of some of the details about what's coming, but it won't have real meaning until I'm in the middle of it.
I got my Dave Matthew's Band tee shirt and jeans jacket on, and tucked my St. Anthony card back into my wallet. The nurse came back in and gave me the run-down on what happens next. I won't see them again in the office, the next time I see any of Dr. S's people it will be in the surgery center. Just a few more weeks.
It's a little like diving into the pool. You know the water is going to be cold. You know there's going to be a momentary shock. But you also know you'll come up again, laughing.
This Psalm was recently in the daily readings:
The nurse chuckled. Yes, I was being slightly sarcastic, but only slightly, because this time we're talking about my reconstruction surgery. So it's -- exciting? Strange, but yeah.I had two drain tubes when I had my mastectomy. So I know what that feels like, what that looks like, how to "somewhat" hide them, how to empty them, and what really matters -- volume, simply volume. I still laugh thinking about how I learned that bit the hard way. Remember? This time I'll only have one. (By the way, I fight Howard-Hughes-ish urges to ask to keep these types of things as morbid cancer-survivor souvenirs. More reasons to pray for me.)
"Which saint is that?" Dr. S asked me. He had just walked into the room with his nurse and a third year med student and he noticed I was holding a saint card. I told him it was St. Anthony, my patron. It happened to be the feast day of St. John Vianney, and we talked about that, daily scripture reading, prayer and reflection apps -- I could have talked to him about faith stuff for hours. But we had to get to it. It had been 10 weeks since I had seen him.
He must have liked what he saw this time because immediately after the exam we were talking about next steps. So it's not "if" it's now "when" we start on reconstruction. I wanted to high five everyone in the room. Keeping it (barely) under control, I told Dr. S this is what I'd been praying for, that I would be able to have the surgery this year. He was working through steps in his head. I'm about four months post-radiation. He said they like it to be six, but by the time the paperwork is done with insurance and they find a place on the schedule for me it will be about right.
Basically there are two options for breast reconstruction: implants or a "flap" procedure that uses skin and fat from another place on your body. There are advantages and disadvantages of each procedure but in the end, Dr. S and I decided the implant option is right for me.
What happens first is that he will install a "tissue expander" where my breast used to be. Which is pretty self-explanatory and, to me, a little gross. In the end when "it" is stretched to the right size, we'll take the expander out and put an implant in. The one complication is that I had radiation, which as he explained it, can affect healing and scarring. So some extra things have to happen to improve the chances of success. Like when I had my mastectomy, and chemo, and radiation, I am aware of some of the details about what's coming, but it won't have real meaning until I'm in the middle of it.
I got my Dave Matthew's Band tee shirt and jeans jacket on, and tucked my St. Anthony card back into my wallet. The nurse came back in and gave me the run-down on what happens next. I won't see them again in the office, the next time I see any of Dr. S's people it will be in the surgery center. Just a few more weeks.
It's a little like diving into the pool. You know the water is going to be cold. You know there's going to be a momentary shock. But you also know you'll come up again, laughing.
This Psalm was recently in the daily readings:
When the LORD restored the captives of Zion,Psalm 126: 1-3
we thought we were dreaming.
Then our mouths were filled with laughter;
our tongues sang for joy.
Then it was said among the nations,
“The LORD had done great things for them.”
The LORD has done great things for us;
Oh, how happy we were!
Beautiful. And I'm always learning something here. :)
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