I'm not unique, many folks have had a year that changes them forever. But, being my blog, this is for you and my kids- who may not have recalled crazy that has been my life for 365 days.
Waking up, briefly, post mastectomy, I remember Jeff telling me it was 10:30pm. He told me the cancer was gone, and a lot of people came to visit him in the waiting room. Finally, waking up on October 3rd, I recall a bit more.
My beautiful reconstruction team member (Dr. Chin), recalls me stating to her, "OMG, what is this gap [between my foobs] there is room for a THIRD FOOB!" Apparently, I left an impression, she always associates me with that moment. Which was hysterical. I remember waking up with oxygen on, finding that weird as all hell. Thinking, I know my sats [oxygen saturation] were fine, get this cannula off me [it's a problem being in the medical field and knowing too much].
I recall going home and being terrified of what was ahead of me. Remembering how Jeff and I felt blissful, that I avoided chemo--- Oh, boy did we learn that the "easy cancer" roller coaster was about to start. There is little bliss in this journey.
Jeff went to get my meds, including my hellish nitro cream. My beautiful neighbor came to "watch" me and she brought me two extra pillows. I remember sitting on one and placing one behind my back. I was not comfortable. Once night turned into day, the pain meds began to wear off. I had to use some of the new meds the docs called in. I did not know my system would hate them so. The worst part, was getting so sick. FYI, they DO NOT want you to vomit post mastectomy, they DO NOT want you to stress your abs or pecs or anything. I never remember feeling as sick as I did that night. I was like a college freshman that could not hold her beer. I vomited, and it hurt-- EVERYTHING. I peed the damn pillow I was sitting on. I could not control any of my functions. I was horribly embarrassed I wet myself in front of my husband. I was 40 years old; yet I could not control a thing. That pillow went straight into the trash. Still, a year later, I can feel the frustration, embarrassment, and pain of that moment. That moment is burned into my brain.
That was probably the moment, were I realized, I was no longer in charge. My body was.
Jeff then had to call doctors and fine me new pain meds. This was totally out of his comfort zone. Doctor calls and health related issues, were my job, not his; I had that background. He stepped up and learned on the fly. I am grateful of how he kept me safe and comfortable those first few days.
I further realized, Jeff was next to me, in step, living the vow he took. In sickness and in health.
He was in that role for a year. Doing whatever he could to help. Yet, feeling helpless he could not just fix me. I think that was hard for him. He's a fixer. I was broken, but he had to trust our team to fix me, and so did I.
The amount of stress and extra things he had to do this last year--- I could never thank him for. Knowing Jeff, he does not want a thanks, he just wants to fly under the radar in all this.
To my friends who organized a great basket of food gift certificates, the little pick me-up gifts, and organizing 6 months of a meal train for my family. How can I ever show my appreciation? My friends who watched my kids when I could not, arranging after care at school for them. Thanks is not enough. The cleaning service so many folks donated to for me -- that was such a relief to not have to worry about. To my friends that said, "I am doing this" versus "Call me if you need help" -- thank you. It is SO HARD to ask for help. Especially, when you can't get out of bed without the room spinning.
It's been one crazy ass ride. I think of friends that went through difficult time, and I know I kept them at arms length. I just did not know what to do. Now, I know you just jump in, you help, and they appreciate every single thing. Don't ask; DO.
I am changed by Cancer. I am surrounded my a great family and community. My community is people who see my daily, and my online Moms that I have known for 9 years. My thanks, will never be enough.
I still have all the cards and gifts. They sit in a lovely white basket. I have not had enough nerve to revisit them. Then I ran across an email of a fellow fighter, that reached out to me. I cried, re-reading it. She lost her battle this year. Her journey and her family, are in my heart always.
It's hard. I want to be like,"Wooo!!! I kicked it's ass!!!" But, that voice, a nagging feeling of, did a cell go the wrong way? Did that beer just morph into estrogen and cause a new tumor? I am finding a way to balance the fear and living life. If I have a new rouge cell in my body, nothing I can do about it now. I just need to have faith all my treatments have worked.
I was just running my fingers through my new hair. That last time it was this length it was falling out. I was almost surprised to not have a pile of hair come out. My hair is rooted in, my chemo did it's job. Now my body tries to find a new balance of normal.
I'm still about 14 pound more than I was a year ago. Which sucks, however I'm not 28 pounds above that number. I'm not sure why that number matters. To be, I think it represents "normal." When I get to that number, I'll be "normal."
Normal is gone. Cancer took that away from me and my family. CC is still traumatized by my last year. Separation anxiety, grips her little body when I'm gone. My next surgery, on October 7th, terrifies her. I just found that out. Here I am thinking I can tell her what is going on, and she gets to spend some hours with her beloved Aunt and Uncle. She wants nothing to do with it. She was to be with Daddy at the hospital. I've got five days to figure out how I help her. I keep telling her this is NOT an over night situation. I will come home and she will be home with me. She is frustrated, she wants to be with us. Mommy and Daddy her safe zone.
Connor internalizes it, until he has a massive meltdown and lashes out at something. During treatment, he accepted me as me. He never cared if I was bald, or swollen on steroids. He was just happy is "Momma" was there. He enjoyed watching age inappropriate movies with me (Waterboy), and enjoyed the silly slap stick of old SNL star movies (Benchwarmers). That was how we were able to bond.
It's been a year of change. Our world is going to keep changing. I thank you all for helping me on this crazy ride. Next up, new Foobs on October 7th. Yep, in 5 days. Fingers crossed this will be my last surgery for a VERY long time....
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