About 11 months ago, I wrote this.
The past few days, I've been having some odd twinges, feeling swollen, weird PMS-like pains on the same right side. I really feel like something is off on my right side.
Having been sidelined by foot problems and elbow problems for the past several months, and coupled with dealing with the declining daylight, end of the term stress, and financial woes very inappropriately (can you say fat, salt, and carbs?) during that same period of time, I have laid down a really nice layer of fat.
I've poked and prodded the right side of my chest quite extensively, and it just feels different than it did a while back. It also feels like there is tension pulling from left to right (like a bra that isn't adjusted quite right).
After a long look in the mirror and a similarly long look in a skin tight shirt, it is very apparent that my right side is quite different than it used to be. Almost exactly like it was 11 months ago, only this time over to the right, more toward my arm pit than before where it was lower on my chest.
So, I have an appointment with my plastic surgeon a week from Tuesday.
If something needs to be readjusted, I'd so much like to have it done before Dec. 31, which is highly improbable, so that it falls under this year's insurance. I am seriously considering asking to have it down with just a local anesthetic, too.
Gak!
Even more stressful, my husband's new employer is not cooperating with returning some insurance form that must be returned to BGSU by 12/9. If it isn't returned, he will not be able to be covered by my insurance and will, as of 12/31, be uninsured.
Our truck is--for all intents and purposes--dead. We will find out more about it within days. If it is, indeed, irreparable, we will have to purchase a new (to us) vehicle ASAP. It will be nearly impossible for me to make the doctor's and OT appointments on top of my school obligations next week **and** figure out how to get him to work. As it is, there is at least one day that he'll have to be dropped off at work about 4 hours before he starts so that I can have the car to do what else needs to be done.
I hope the rest of you are having a happier December than I am right now.
I'd like to say there is nowhere to go but up, but, alas, I fear I am too jaded to buy into that right now.
Showing posts with label surgery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label surgery. Show all posts
Friday, December 2, 2011
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Concerned and not sure what to do
It's now been a week and two days since I had surgery. For the most part, the slicing and stitching part is all fine and good, as long as I don't do something silly like try to scratch my back or lift or reach and lift (that last part is the worst).
I've gotten the all clear to wait four weeks before doing much of anything physically, and then back to life as I want it.
However.
But.
Yet.
Something is not right. I'm chalking it up to anesthesia. I'm becoming quite concerned.
My affect is pretty flat. I'm depressed. I'm moody and weepy. I'm excessively tired. I feel purposeless and really can only muster up the most basic of reasons why it's better to be alive...mostly, it would be bad for my kids if I weren't.
Worse, though, is the brain fuzziness. I can barely read. I can decode words, but I can't remember or follow a train of thought. I can't remember anything. Seriously. A friend sent me an email this morning about something I've known I have to do. I responded that I'd get to it ASAP. I immediately put it out of my mind. And until I got another email from her, it was as if the original email had never existed.
It's like I'm at that point of alcohol consumption where everything is hard to do, but not yet over the edge where--rightly or wrongly--everything is Crystal clear. Holding my head up takes effort. Lying with eyes closed seems like the thing to do. It's like those days when you are abruptly awakened shortly after falling to sleep and you are totally befuddled. Seriously, I can sit and stare off into space and not know I'm doing it.
The logistics of every day life are overwhelming.
I have trouble putting together cogent thought and over-react on a very emotional level. My processing is so slow that it's negligible. I feel the wheels turning, as if they are coated in rust and the gears are not quite fitting correctly.
I have an appointment with Dr. Mo next week (I'm not even sure I should be driving at this point). But I'm really quite frightened. I can not function this way.
I've gotten the all clear to wait four weeks before doing much of anything physically, and then back to life as I want it.
However.
But.
Yet.
Something is not right. I'm chalking it up to anesthesia. I'm becoming quite concerned.
My affect is pretty flat. I'm depressed. I'm moody and weepy. I'm excessively tired. I feel purposeless and really can only muster up the most basic of reasons why it's better to be alive...mostly, it would be bad for my kids if I weren't.
Worse, though, is the brain fuzziness. I can barely read. I can decode words, but I can't remember or follow a train of thought. I can't remember anything. Seriously. A friend sent me an email this morning about something I've known I have to do. I responded that I'd get to it ASAP. I immediately put it out of my mind. And until I got another email from her, it was as if the original email had never existed.
It's like I'm at that point of alcohol consumption where everything is hard to do, but not yet over the edge where--rightly or wrongly--everything is Crystal clear. Holding my head up takes effort. Lying with eyes closed seems like the thing to do. It's like those days when you are abruptly awakened shortly after falling to sleep and you are totally befuddled. Seriously, I can sit and stare off into space and not know I'm doing it.
The logistics of every day life are overwhelming.
I have trouble putting together cogent thought and over-react on a very emotional level. My processing is so slow that it's negligible. I feel the wheels turning, as if they are coated in rust and the gears are not quite fitting correctly.
I have an appointment with Dr. Mo next week (I'm not even sure I should be driving at this point). But I'm really quite frightened. I can not function this way.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Bionic Boobs
Yesterday I had a third surgery on my boobs. A year ago December, I had a double mastectomy, which was clearly the most traumatic physically and emotionally. At that time, my plastic surgeon, Dr. W, started phase one of my reconstruction, which involved placing tissue expanders behind my chest muscles. Over a period of weeks, those were injected with saline solution and expanded to keep the skin that remained after my mastectomy from contracting, making reconstruction more difficult later.
I loved my expanders. Most people hate them. I loved them.
In considering reconstruction, I kicked around the idea of autonomous replacement (tram flap surgery) where the surgeon uses abdominal fat and muscle and a tunnel to recreate a breast or two. However, it's a highly invasive procedure that involves several days in the hospital, many hours under general anesthesia (and I have issues with that), and there's still no guarantee that the flap will take (I know one person whose flap died). Other women with flap reconstructions have abdominal issues. There's one in my exercise class who can't do many abdominal exercises because of her missing abdominal muscles. To make a long story short, I opted to NOT do flap surgery. Maybe some day, when my kids are older, when the procedure has been perfected more, when it doesn't involve removing abdominal muscle. But for now, I'm happy with my decision to have the relatively simply reconstruction of saline implants.
You know, super model boobs. Only, mine aren't super model size.
Women get breast implants all the time. It's a pretty basic, easily accomplished procedure. However, when done strictly for cosmetic reasons, there is still surrounding breast tissue and the implants supplement what is already there. With reconstruction after mastectomy, there is no breast tissue and the implants are placed under the chest wall. Placing them there serves two purposes. Most importantly, in placing the implant under the chest wall, it's easier to detect any new tumors in the breast area...there is always some small amount of tissue left. Of secondary importance is that since there isn't breast fat and tissue left, if implants were placed on top of the chest muscle, it would look like balloons under skin.
So, I have my two moderately sized implants under my pectoral muscle, and I can flex them like a body builder.
One advantage for me in having had a mastectomy before my implants were planted is that I have very few nerve endings in my chest area. So, there was very little discomfort. The biggest discomfort was in restricting my movement. If I took my pain meds on schedule, I had very little discomfort.
And then one day I noticed that my right breast was significantly lower then my left breast. I'd read about implants slipping. I'd feared it. I was certain that is what had happened. However, after revisiting Dr. W, she determined that my right side had done what it should have done, settled into a more natural position. The left side, however, was brutalized by 6 weeks of radiation last spring. Radiation is nasty stuff. It changes the skin and muscle. What that means for me is that I've lost some flexibility on that side. My skin and muscles, especially the muscles, are tighter. That's also the side I had lymph nodes removed, which damaged other muscles. Therefore, the right side implant didn't settle. There are other negative and permanent side effects of radiation therapy, most notably heart and lung damage, but no one can really see that.
So, while most women, especially after having babies (which I did 5 times) have asymmetrical breasts, because of a lack of breast tissue and being placed under my muscle, my asymmetrical breasts looked really odd. They looked like a very unskillful job of bra stuffing.
To fix it, not much can be done to the left side. Radiation has done its damage. So Dr. W suggested raising the right breast. This, however, involved stitching the implant to my rib, or rather the living tissue, the periosteum, that surrounds the rib. And that is what she did to me yesterday. She also removed some extra skin on both breasts.
I still don't have many nerve endings, and I'm rather glad I don't, because this is painful. I don't remember why I felt like I'd been kicked in the sternum after my mastectomy, but I did. This evening, I feel like a donkey kicked me in the rib. Even with a maximum dosage of Percocet, whenever I move my right arm in a reaching motion, I feel a stabbing yet bruising sensation in my rib.
But my boobs are even.
Now to decide what to do. Percs make me itch. Not taking them makes me hurt. I can take them with benedryl to cut down on the itching, and that combo knocks me out. But I don't like the way that makes me feel.
In my next life, I won't have any reconstruction done. It's not worth it, I don't think.
I loved my expanders. Most people hate them. I loved them.
In considering reconstruction, I kicked around the idea of autonomous replacement (tram flap surgery) where the surgeon uses abdominal fat and muscle and a tunnel to recreate a breast or two. However, it's a highly invasive procedure that involves several days in the hospital, many hours under general anesthesia (and I have issues with that), and there's still no guarantee that the flap will take (I know one person whose flap died). Other women with flap reconstructions have abdominal issues. There's one in my exercise class who can't do many abdominal exercises because of her missing abdominal muscles. To make a long story short, I opted to NOT do flap surgery. Maybe some day, when my kids are older, when the procedure has been perfected more, when it doesn't involve removing abdominal muscle. But for now, I'm happy with my decision to have the relatively simply reconstruction of saline implants.
You know, super model boobs. Only, mine aren't super model size.
Women get breast implants all the time. It's a pretty basic, easily accomplished procedure. However, when done strictly for cosmetic reasons, there is still surrounding breast tissue and the implants supplement what is already there. With reconstruction after mastectomy, there is no breast tissue and the implants are placed under the chest wall. Placing them there serves two purposes. Most importantly, in placing the implant under the chest wall, it's easier to detect any new tumors in the breast area...there is always some small amount of tissue left. Of secondary importance is that since there isn't breast fat and tissue left, if implants were placed on top of the chest muscle, it would look like balloons under skin.
So, I have my two moderately sized implants under my pectoral muscle, and I can flex them like a body builder.
One advantage for me in having had a mastectomy before my implants were planted is that I have very few nerve endings in my chest area. So, there was very little discomfort. The biggest discomfort was in restricting my movement. If I took my pain meds on schedule, I had very little discomfort.
And then one day I noticed that my right breast was significantly lower then my left breast. I'd read about implants slipping. I'd feared it. I was certain that is what had happened. However, after revisiting Dr. W, she determined that my right side had done what it should have done, settled into a more natural position. The left side, however, was brutalized by 6 weeks of radiation last spring. Radiation is nasty stuff. It changes the skin and muscle. What that means for me is that I've lost some flexibility on that side. My skin and muscles, especially the muscles, are tighter. That's also the side I had lymph nodes removed, which damaged other muscles. Therefore, the right side implant didn't settle. There are other negative and permanent side effects of radiation therapy, most notably heart and lung damage, but no one can really see that.
So, while most women, especially after having babies (which I did 5 times) have asymmetrical breasts, because of a lack of breast tissue and being placed under my muscle, my asymmetrical breasts looked really odd. They looked like a very unskillful job of bra stuffing.
To fix it, not much can be done to the left side. Radiation has done its damage. So Dr. W suggested raising the right breast. This, however, involved stitching the implant to my rib, or rather the living tissue, the periosteum, that surrounds the rib. And that is what she did to me yesterday. She also removed some extra skin on both breasts.
I still don't have many nerve endings, and I'm rather glad I don't, because this is painful. I don't remember why I felt like I'd been kicked in the sternum after my mastectomy, but I did. This evening, I feel like a donkey kicked me in the rib. Even with a maximum dosage of Percocet, whenever I move my right arm in a reaching motion, I feel a stabbing yet bruising sensation in my rib.
But my boobs are even.
Now to decide what to do. Percs make me itch. Not taking them makes me hurt. I can take them with benedryl to cut down on the itching, and that combo knocks me out. But I don't like the way that makes me feel.
In my next life, I won't have any reconstruction done. It's not worth it, I don't think.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Now what?
Here I sit, one week away from what I have been hoping is my last surgery. It's not a significant surgery. It's scheduled for 8:30 a.m. and I expect that I'll be home around lunch time. It's a simple procedure that is mostly cosmetic, just a re-adjustment of my one implant, making the "normal" one match the abnormal radiated side. The recovery is supposed to be on the painful side since the surgeon will be stitching the implant to my rib and there will be lots of pinching, pulling, and tugging as it heals. The surgeon and the second opinion I sought out both suggested that I'll have to restrict movement, lifting over 8 lbs., and not engage in anything physical for two to four weeks, but both also said I might find it really uncomfortable for up to 8 weeks.
I've been resigned to this for a while now. Although the "problem" isn't significant and truly is mostly aesthetic, I really do feel like a freak when my fake boobs can't even line up right. So I'm going through with it.
Lately, though, I've been noticing that I'm losing range of motion in my left arm. At first, I thought it was just me, just in my mind, just my perception. I guess I began noticing it when I was in Zumba class and tried to "windmill" my arms backwards. My right arm went back, my left rotated to the side, and I looked like a fool. Now, looking like a fool in Zumba isn't too disturbing to me. I'm rather used to it. As soon as the music starts, I look like a fool. ::shrug:: It's what I do best. It's fun and I'm by no means alone looking like a fool in Zumba class. But, for shizzle I'd like to be able to rotate my arm backwards. It's hard to feel remotely graceful or strong when your arm makes maybe a 105 degree angle from the side of your body instead of closer to 180. One side of me does backstroke. One side does the elementary backstroke. Unkind.
Now that my one exercise teacher has also noticed it, I no longer think it's in my head, which is making me paranoid. On the bright side, at least I no longer have to feel like I'm incapable of doing a push up because I'm incapable of gaining strength. It's because I'm incapable of doing a push up. Because this left side isn't working right. But will it ever? Is it going to get worse?
I suppose I need to make an appointment with someone about this. Surgeon? Radiation Onco? I don't have time to actually go to any appointments in the next week since I'm cramming in as many office hours and one-on-one opportunities as possible with my students before Spring Break. Then, I'm not ruining Spring Break any more than recuperation will ruin it, plus Amy and I are going out of town for most of it. Later this month, I have a check up with Dr. Mo, so I guess I'll start with her. I imagine, knowing her, there won't be a good answer or an easy path. On the bright side, her office is very good at making appointments for me, so at least I don't have to make all those calls myself.
I wonder what other damage has been done? So, now I worry whenever I'm out of breath, whenever I cough, whenever I am miserable doing cardio-work if my heart and lungs aren't damaged. I've had a little cold, sometimes I feel "chesty." Is that lung damage? Heart disease? When I'm exceptionally tired, I worry about heart failure. I've taken a nap for the last two days. What does that mean? Am I just tired? Or is it something more than that? Do I even want to know?
I bet it's back on the medical appointment merry-go-round within the month.
I've been resigned to this for a while now. Although the "problem" isn't significant and truly is mostly aesthetic, I really do feel like a freak when my fake boobs can't even line up right. So I'm going through with it.
Lately, though, I've been noticing that I'm losing range of motion in my left arm. At first, I thought it was just me, just in my mind, just my perception. I guess I began noticing it when I was in Zumba class and tried to "windmill" my arms backwards. My right arm went back, my left rotated to the side, and I looked like a fool. Now, looking like a fool in Zumba isn't too disturbing to me. I'm rather used to it. As soon as the music starts, I look like a fool. ::shrug:: It's what I do best. It's fun and I'm by no means alone looking like a fool in Zumba class. But, for shizzle I'd like to be able to rotate my arm backwards. It's hard to feel remotely graceful or strong when your arm makes maybe a 105 degree angle from the side of your body instead of closer to 180. One side of me does backstroke. One side does the elementary backstroke. Unkind.
Now that my one exercise teacher has also noticed it, I no longer think it's in my head, which is making me paranoid. On the bright side, at least I no longer have to feel like I'm incapable of doing a push up because I'm incapable of gaining strength. It's because I'm incapable of doing a push up. Because this left side isn't working right. But will it ever? Is it going to get worse?
I suppose I need to make an appointment with someone about this. Surgeon? Radiation Onco? I don't have time to actually go to any appointments in the next week since I'm cramming in as many office hours and one-on-one opportunities as possible with my students before Spring Break. Then, I'm not ruining Spring Break any more than recuperation will ruin it, plus Amy and I are going out of town for most of it. Later this month, I have a check up with Dr. Mo, so I guess I'll start with her. I imagine, knowing her, there won't be a good answer or an easy path. On the bright side, her office is very good at making appointments for me, so at least I don't have to make all those calls myself.
I wonder what other damage has been done? So, now I worry whenever I'm out of breath, whenever I cough, whenever I am miserable doing cardio-work if my heart and lungs aren't damaged. I've had a little cold, sometimes I feel "chesty." Is that lung damage? Heart disease? When I'm exceptionally tired, I worry about heart failure. I've taken a nap for the last two days. What does that mean? Am I just tired? Or is it something more than that? Do I even want to know?
I bet it's back on the medical appointment merry-go-round within the month.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Slipe, Sliding Away...
Remember when I was freaking out, when I was afraid to sleep in my bed after my most recent surgery because I was afraid I'd roll onto my slide and one of my implants would slide out of place?
Such silly worries.
And that isn't what has happened at all, well not quite or exactly. Yet, it amounts to the same thing.
I've had continuous pain on my right side, very reminiscent to PMS-y breast tenderness, but intense and shooting, and worse at night to the point that it disrupts my sleep. That in itself was disturbing because it also was slightly reminiscent to the pain from my tumor. On top of that, my new right breast is lower on my chest than the left one. It's also softer.
My assumption was that the left had settled and the right, which is the side that I had radiated, hadn't quite yet. But that didn't explain the pain on the right. If anything, there should be pain on the left.
My anxiety was cranked up a notch when I called for an appointment with my surgeon and, after describing my symptoms and concerns, was given an appointment within a few days. Not only that, the receptionist was willing to work around my schedule. Very unusual in and of itself.
As it turns out, the pain is caused by an awkward settling of the right side coupled by some weird nerve regeneration/degeneration/healing/something....and I can take more pain killers or learn to live with it. I'm basically going to have to learn to live with it.
As for the being lopsided part...the right side, being unradiated, is probably settling "normally" and the left side, having been zapped for 6.5 weeks, isn't. The collagen is damaged so the skin and muscle don't stretch like they should; therefore, the implant isn't settling normally, resulting in the lopsided look.
The solution? Raise my right side to match the left since the left isn't going anywhere. But the right side already has the smallest "pocket" available to it. It's squishier than the right because there is more space for it to spread out.
Since the pocket is already as small as it can be, how does the surgeon raise it? here's where it gets disturbing. The only way to raise the implant is to stitch it to my rib !!!! Yes, that is worth four exclamation points.
I'm totally grossed out and disturbed by the idea of having something stitched to my rib. And it needs to be done sooner rather than later. The surgery itself is simple. Dr. W. will go in through the incision that is already there and move things around and stitch the implant to my rib. She said this was going to be ouchy. When a doctor makes a point of saying that something will be painful, that's a pretty good indication that it is going to suck. She said "pinchy and owie" for a while.
Yippee. I can not find words to express how happy I am to be facing a fourth surgery since all this started. Now I need to fix my syllabus so that I don't have to grade over Spring Break since it looks like I'll be sidelined.
As well, this puts a kink in my New Year's Goals...I never did get around to writing that blog entry, did I? One was to run a 5k each month and another was to complete the Glass City Half Marathon and if I did well there, to consider the Chicago Rock-n-Roll half marathon. I'll be missing March and April, so the Glass City run is out of the running. Surgery at the beginning of Spring Break means nothing jarring for at least six weeks, or until the middle of April at the earliest. Dr. W said it could be several months before anything jarring is comfortable.
Crapola. This does not make me happy. I won't even go into how much I hate general anesthesia and believe that it messes with my head for at least a month. It certainly wreaks havoc with my sleep patterns. I'm still not fully sleeping normally, when I sleep. When I do sleep, rolling over or moving around is bound to wake me up anyway because of the pain on the right side.
There really is no silver lining to this. I'm grateful, though, that this isn't life saving surgery, that I have the insurance to cover it, a job that allows for it to easily take place, and that it's simply a comfort issue as opposed to cutting more cancer out of my body. I love my surgeon. I love the medical facility. I wasn't really expecting it. But I can cope. And I will. I'm just not quite ready to be happy or chipper about it yet.
Such silly worries.
And that isn't what has happened at all, well not quite or exactly. Yet, it amounts to the same thing.
I've had continuous pain on my right side, very reminiscent to PMS-y breast tenderness, but intense and shooting, and worse at night to the point that it disrupts my sleep. That in itself was disturbing because it also was slightly reminiscent to the pain from my tumor. On top of that, my new right breast is lower on my chest than the left one. It's also softer.
My assumption was that the left had settled and the right, which is the side that I had radiated, hadn't quite yet. But that didn't explain the pain on the right. If anything, there should be pain on the left.
My anxiety was cranked up a notch when I called for an appointment with my surgeon and, after describing my symptoms and concerns, was given an appointment within a few days. Not only that, the receptionist was willing to work around my schedule. Very unusual in and of itself.
As it turns out, the pain is caused by an awkward settling of the right side coupled by some weird nerve regeneration/degeneration/healing/something....and I can take more pain killers or learn to live with it. I'm basically going to have to learn to live with it.
As for the being lopsided part...the right side, being unradiated, is probably settling "normally" and the left side, having been zapped for 6.5 weeks, isn't. The collagen is damaged so the skin and muscle don't stretch like they should; therefore, the implant isn't settling normally, resulting in the lopsided look.
The solution? Raise my right side to match the left since the left isn't going anywhere. But the right side already has the smallest "pocket" available to it. It's squishier than the right because there is more space for it to spread out.
Since the pocket is already as small as it can be, how does the surgeon raise it? here's where it gets disturbing. The only way to raise the implant is to stitch it to my rib !!!! Yes, that is worth four exclamation points.
I'm totally grossed out and disturbed by the idea of having something stitched to my rib. And it needs to be done sooner rather than later. The surgery itself is simple. Dr. W. will go in through the incision that is already there and move things around and stitch the implant to my rib. She said this was going to be ouchy. When a doctor makes a point of saying that something will be painful, that's a pretty good indication that it is going to suck. She said "pinchy and owie" for a while.
Yippee. I can not find words to express how happy I am to be facing a fourth surgery since all this started. Now I need to fix my syllabus so that I don't have to grade over Spring Break since it looks like I'll be sidelined.
As well, this puts a kink in my New Year's Goals...I never did get around to writing that blog entry, did I? One was to run a 5k each month and another was to complete the Glass City Half Marathon and if I did well there, to consider the Chicago Rock-n-Roll half marathon. I'll be missing March and April, so the Glass City run is out of the running. Surgery at the beginning of Spring Break means nothing jarring for at least six weeks, or until the middle of April at the earliest. Dr. W said it could be several months before anything jarring is comfortable.
Crapola. This does not make me happy. I won't even go into how much I hate general anesthesia and believe that it messes with my head for at least a month. It certainly wreaks havoc with my sleep patterns. I'm still not fully sleeping normally, when I sleep. When I do sleep, rolling over or moving around is bound to wake me up anyway because of the pain on the right side.
There really is no silver lining to this. I'm grateful, though, that this isn't life saving surgery, that I have the insurance to cover it, a job that allows for it to easily take place, and that it's simply a comfort issue as opposed to cutting more cancer out of my body. I love my surgeon. I love the medical facility. I wasn't really expecting it. But I can cope. And I will. I'm just not quite ready to be happy or chipper about it yet.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
graphic video of today
OK, so this isn't ME or MY SURGEON in this video and my scars run vertically as opposed to horizontally, but this IS a video of the procedure I had done today.
Minus the altogether important port removal, of which I'm still in search of decent videos.
Minus the altogether important port removal, of which I'm still in search of decent videos.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Adios, Portia!
Tomorrow, the "final" step on this whole sucky journey takes place....I'm having my reconstruction surgery. Even more exciting, my port will be removed at the same time. I am more excited about having my port removed than I am about getting my squishy boobs. I'm pretty much over breasts. If I had a different body type, I'm now certain I'd have not opted for any reconstruction. If I had this body type, I'd be quite comfortable without breasts. Alas, no matter how much I run, no matter how much I work out, that particular body type will never belong to me. I'm rather happy with my rock hard, totally unnatural "breast mounds" caused by the tissue expanders I have in right now. For those of you who don't know about tissue expanders, they are HARD. No movement, what's so ever. The rest of my body jiggles. Not my boobs. This makes lying on my stomach somewhat of a challenge, but it's still manageable. I could live with these for the rest of my life. Really, I could.
But this port....the port squicks me out, big time. The surgeons and doctors all say that it's one of the "best" they've seen, but it's nasty. There's this button right under my skin, about 2" below my collar bone. And then there's this tubing that runs under my skin, up toward my collar bone and disappears into my heart. Gross. Gross. Gross.
To top it off, I have some keloidal scarring along the tube, so there's a maroon line going up my chest. I care less about how it looks...by this point, most of my friends have some sort of scarring. But I simply can NOT stand how it feels. I know the word is over used, but it really is GROSS.
However, by tomorrow night, Portia the port will be gone. She has served me well, allowing 10 relatively pain free chemo infusions and 17 herceptin infusions. However, she shall not be missed.
And I'll have new boobs. Everyone assures me that I will be able to continue to live brassiere free after my surgery heals, and that had better be the reality I face. I do not miss wearing bras. Not. At. All.
And if I don't like these boobs, I can always get rid of them.
But this port....the port squicks me out, big time. The surgeons and doctors all say that it's one of the "best" they've seen, but it's nasty. There's this button right under my skin, about 2" below my collar bone. And then there's this tubing that runs under my skin, up toward my collar bone and disappears into my heart. Gross. Gross. Gross.
To top it off, I have some keloidal scarring along the tube, so there's a maroon line going up my chest. I care less about how it looks...by this point, most of my friends have some sort of scarring. But I simply can NOT stand how it feels. I know the word is over used, but it really is GROSS.
However, by tomorrow night, Portia the port will be gone. She has served me well, allowing 10 relatively pain free chemo infusions and 17 herceptin infusions. However, she shall not be missed.
And I'll have new boobs. Everyone assures me that I will be able to continue to live brassiere free after my surgery heals, and that had better be the reality I face. I do not miss wearing bras. Not. At. All.
And if I don't like these boobs, I can always get rid of them.
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