I'm sitting here on the couch SIX WEEKS after my last post. It's been SIX WEEKS since I had my tissue expanders exchanged for my "permanent" implants, and I never told you all how it went. Well, it went very well...until it didn't...until I was massaging scar tissue like I was told to do and I put my hand through my incision exposing my implant. So it's been almost THREE WEEKS since I earned myself an emergency surgery to remove and replace the possibly contaminated implant, THREE WEEKS since I spent the night in the hospital receiving IV antibiotics to try and prevent an infection after the exposure, THREE WEEKS since I spent hours in OR prep crying my eyes out while trying to explain to the anesthesiologist nurse that no, I will not be calmed down to talk in a couple minutes so you don't need to leave and you better just go ahead and say what you need to say, THREE WEEKS since I yelled at the nurses that I know they don't like doing implants with radiated skin, but that I didn't ASK for any of this so I was tired of hearing about it, THREE WEEKS since they pumped my stomach because I had eaten too close to the surgery, and THREE WEEKS since I had to start the whole healing after surgery process again, this time with mismatched implants {because the kind I had wasn't in stock}. In the past three weeks I have heard a couple of times how this was "really my first setback" and I guess I am supposed to feel good about that, but here's the deal, I'm pretty sure getting cancer at THIRTY FIVE years old was the first major setback...and I can think of a few others since then. So in this time of "awareness", I feel compelled to share what "awareness" means to me, beyond the smiling faces and pink ribbons...
Breast Cancer Awareness is:
- Accidentally brushing your hand across your chest in the shower and feeling all the blood rush from your body when it hits a very obvious lump...
- Knowing that "monthly changes" can sometimes make young breasts lumpy, so deciding to wait a week before calling the doctor to see if things "change", but still knowing somewhere deep down that this isn't good...
- Waiting until Mother's Day passes and then your birthday because you just know that something is very wrong and you want those happy memories first..
- Seeing a young woman in a scarf dancing with her friends when you are out for your birthday and thinking to yourself, "that's going to be me"...
- Calling the doctor and again feeling all of the blood leave your body...
- Seeing the faces of the mammogram and ultrasound technician, hearing the radiologist say, "this is not good, you need a biopsy very soon"...
- Looking through the pictures on the disk given to you by the radiologist and realizing that, no, this doesn't look good and wait a minute, there are TWO HUGE LYMPH NODES INVOLVED...
- Laying in the dark cold room on the ultrasound table while having a huge needle shoved into your breast and armpit ~ all of this while holding your lucky stuffed dog in your hand, because even adults need that sometimes...
- Being handed information on breast cancer right after the biopsy, knowing that they are sure, even before the news comes...
- Laying in bed on a rainy Thursday morning, thanking God that your boys are sleeping in, for the first time ever, as you lay there wrapped in the blanket your friends gave you, picturing Jesus sitting beside you with His hand on you for comfort, which is strange because you have never been super religious, but you are terrified and you need that image, because you KNOW you will be getting "the call"...
- Getting "the call" while driving to a play date with friends, it's still raining, pouring actually, but you take the call anyway because you swear you aren't going to be shocked by the news, but you still are..
- Calling your husband, knowing you've just crushed a big part of his heart...
- Walking into Little Monkey Bizness, but not really being present, feeling that this is all an out of body experience and that you are watching it, but not really EXPERIENCING what is going on...
- Telling your friends you got "the call", being too numb to cry, but seeing the fear in their eyes...
- Watching your children and their children play and thinking about how unfair this all is and how you might not get to see your children grow up...
- Calling your mom and giving her the news, being careful to sound detached and like it's not really a big deal, which is ridiculous, because obviously you have just broken someone's heart...
- Guarding your emotions with everyone except your husband and doctors, so that nobody else knows how scared you really are...
- But then, going on a run one night and crying so hysterically, that you are gasping for air and pretty sure you are just going to drop dead right there from heartbreak...
- Lying on your stomach with your breasts hanging through the holes of the MRI table as the radiologist repeatedly sticks a needle into your breast to try and find the correct area to biopsy, the needle breaking and the doctor acting like it's your fault for having "very dense breasts"...
- Shaking uncontrollably for half an hour after the MRI because you are FREEZING and have been bleeding from the breast for about 45 minutes...
- Watching as the nurse hooks you up to chemo for the first time and feeling an overwhelming fear of the unknown...
- Laying on the couch and accidentally pulling out handfuls of hair, watching your ponytail become thinner and thinner...
- Sitting in a chair on the deck while your husband shaves your head and you give handfuls of your hair to your children to "give to the birds so they can make a nest"...
- Not letting anyone outside of your husband and children see you without a hat for the next 6 months {even when you have surgery} because you are embarrassed, but also because you don't want them to see you looking "sick", because that makes it too real...
- Being afraid that chemo will make you SO sick that you won't be able to go to your children when they call for you in the night and thinking that if that happens you will just sleep on their floor, but then being grateful that that doesn't happen...
- Being devastated when your niece is born, and you are having a "bad phase" because of the steroids and can't bring yourself to get to the hospital to see her...
- Realizing that some of the people that you thought would definitely be there for you really aren't and being sad about that, but at the same time knowing how hard this is from their standpoint, so learning to forgive and to just move on...
- Knowing that you will never look quite the same to yourself in the mirror and that your breasts are only part of that realization...
- Having to constantly explain to people that "yes, you, caught this early", but it can still come back, because you want people to know how serious this really is and how awareness IS NOT ENOUGH...
- Analyzing every single ache and pain and immediately having to talk yourself down from thinking the worst, because once the "impossible" happens nothing seems off limits...
- Hearing you are "brave" and "inspirational" and knowing that that's pretty much just a lie, because you aren't those things, you are just doing what anyone would do...
- Getting angry when you know that some of your friends aren't checking their own breasts, even though they walked through this with you, you know they are scared, but still...
- Knowing that for the REST OF YOUR LIFE you will have a voice in your head telling you to "watch out" sneaking right in there and making you aware of all of the scary things that other people your age don't have on their radar...
- And, wondering every day if you are doing "enough"...
