Road to Recovery

It's been so long since I've wanted to sit down and continue blogging about my experience -- maybe subconsciously I was just thrilled to be moving forward and past the whole thing, or maybe I've had a wedding every weekend for what seems like the last 789 weekends leaving little time for blogging... Either way, a bit of time has passed since my double mastectomy on Tuesday, May 24th, and I have found myself four months later a bit of a different person. The number of people that have reached out, both familiar and complete strangers, continues to amaze me and make me feel sort of great about the human spirit. It sounds like such a cheese ball thing to say, but all of the "I've been thinking about you's" whispered in my ear, with an extra little squeeze, while giving someone a hello-hug at all of these weddings I've attended lately, have made me feel so loved and beyond that, understood. I get a sense from those of you that check in on me that you genuinely see where I've been, and how I have grown thru all of this. I have a little twinge of hating that this is such a "thing" that has happened, but then I realize what a great "thing" it has ultimately been. Thank you, again, to everyone for being so supportive and overwhelmingly genuine and kind. 

Before I get to where we're at today, and the second surgery that I have coming up in just a couple of weeks, I'll start to wrap up from where we left off...

The first few days home were confusing, and blurry. My arms were legitimately useless. I had no feeling anywhere in my armpits, or across my chest, and I was limited to T-Rex style mobility. It took a while to get into a routine with all of the pills that came home with me. My mom made a chart, I made a chart, I downloaded an app, and eventually I just set alarms on my phone. Pills on pills on pills. The first week could probably be summed up as naps and pills. I wasn't up for much else. Each shower forced me to see myself again, and that feeling of fear and discomfort, or maybe it's better described as a disconnection with myself, came back every time that I looked down. I found myself staring at the ceiling while my mom bathed me like a helpless child, just to ensure that I didn't catch another glimpse when I wasn't mentally prepared. I'm still having a hard time putting that into words - do any other mastectomy ladies know what it is I'm trying to describe? It was hard, whatever it was. I did my absolute best job to keep a positive attitude throughout the next few weeks, but there were definitely moments that got the best of me. Moments of feeling like a burden - to my family, my boyfriend, my friends. Moments of feeling like I was never going to feel like myself again. Moments of just wanting to sleep on my side and spoon my man without yelping in pain or getting tangled in a god damn drain tube. But - never a moment of regret. Never a moment of wishing that I hadn't had the surgery, and along with that, never a moment of worry about breast cancer. Not a single night of waking up in a panic. That was something very different from the previous two years. So theres that.

Bruising and scabbing got worse over time, and my nipples (if you can call them that) turned black - which was particularly alarming. When I was able to stay awake for a few hours at a time, I succumbed to my boyfriends efforts to get me out of the house, but never without my amazing armpit pillows that were sent to me by an extra thoughtful friend. 

5 days post op, nipple scabbing hadn't yet begun, but we were in full swing body bloating 

My chest was a nightmare to look at, and a world of pain, but beyond that my main concern was my drains. Having tubes pumping blood and puss out of holes in your armpits is not an ideal scenario for anyone. Each day that passed was a countdown to when they would be taken out. My sister drove me out to Boston for my appointment two and a half weeks after surgery, where THANK YOU JESUS they said that my drains could come out. Take a little looksie at this video if you are curious about the removal process, but be warned, it is gross, *GROSS*, and graphic. The sister did her best job of keeping me calm and holding my hand, while I made my best effort to keep my composure while I had the thought of using the video in a future blog post on my mind. Cool as a cucumber, just for you guys. JK I was freaking the f*ck out on the inside. The sensation of them sliding thru my chest and out my armpit was something that makes me feel like puking when I think about it, but the relief of having them out was AH-MAZING. 

removing my drains...

I warned you, it was gross. You can get a pretty good idea of how difficult it was for me to lift my arms, they were still very weak at this point . I had no feeling in and around my armpits in addition to my chest. The scab along my incision was slowly starting to fall off, but the scab over my pathetic excuses for nipples were still in full effect. Regardless, I left that appointment pretty pumped, and feeling freeeeeeeeee from the shackles that had bound me to zipper front sports bras and button down shirts. HALLELUJAH! It hurt, I was sore, and still bruised, scabby, and flat as a board - but my drains were gone so I didn't GAF. My next appointment would be in a week, and it would be my first saline injection to get my boobies back on the road to looking like actual boobies. I definitely felt like I was over a hurdle at this point, and began to feel more like myself again. 

As always, thank you so much for reading, and please don't hesitate to ask any questions in the comments below, or contact me directly at sue.sardinia@gmail.com - please continue to share with anyone that may find this helpful!

** If you'd like to bring comfort to anyone going thru a similar surgery I HIGHLY recommend the pillows that I used for a little relief under my arms, and you can purchase them here: https://www.etsy.com/listing/474262249/mastectomy-pillow-breast-cancer-comfort?ref=shop_home_active_1