Tag Archives: surgery

New Year, New Priorities

Change, Healing, Perspective Shift, Positive Attitude

Well, here we are, almost a full year since my mastectomy. I had my second surgery of the year on Mon 11/11 — had my ovaries and fallopian tubes removed. It was surgical removal or keep them chemically suppressed with a monthly injection. The past three months of injections proved to be full of unwanted side effects, so it only made sense to cut the estrogen off at its source.

And now I’m getting ready for another surgery in 5 days, reconstruction at last.

After hitting my grief limit in mid-October (over Mr. Avoidant), I slid back into my steady stable happy single life like nothing ever happened. I finished October on a high note and moved right into November and December without missing a beat. After my surgery, voila! it was time for the holidays. I thoroughly enjoyed my family, friends, and food. It was a great Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year.

I forced myself to refocus on my health and my kids. I haven’t spent an extra thought on Mr. Avoidant for months. Although he works with me, he’s not in the same building. We rarely have an exchange, if any, because my employees are typically the ones who interface with him. There have been two near encounters, but I stopped them before they could start.

One night, after dinner I saw I had a missed call from him. And a text saying something to the effect that he knows I don’t want to talk to him, but he just didn’t want to put my family through whatever it is that he’s going through. It’s alcoholism. That’s what he’s going through. He needs help. He knows it, I know it, everyone knows it, but he remains in denial, which is more than half the battle.

I did text him back. I spoke my mind, basically told him his silence the past couple months was response enough that I needed for my perspective on him. I also told him he’s hurting people by not getting himself help.

Response from him? More silence. It’s fine. It’s sad, disappointing that’s how he deals with problems, but more silence it was. I left it there.

Fast forward to our company Christmas party. I saw him from afar and wanted nothing to do with him. He looked terrible. Badly dressed, heavier than I remembered, and drunk. I had to walk past his chair at one point and he asked how I was doing. Uh, fine. F-I-N-E. After the dinner portion of the evening, I went to the restroom, and low and behold, he’s the ONLY other human in the hallway with me. For shits sake. I had to acknowledge his existence. He tried to start a conversation. He must’ve asked how I was doing, and I just said “Good”.

G-O-O-D.

And good I have been. I don’t even know what I was thinking having any kind of romantic connection to that guy. Basically, I was in a bad place (post-chemo, no hair, needing attention), and he’s always in a bad place (alcoholic who tells good jokes to get attention)… it was the perfect storm. He caught me in a vulnerable state, and I allowed it to happen.

Never again.

This New Year, there will be no dates to just date. There will be dates to see if there’s a connection that could potentially work long term. If none, go away. Run far far away. Right now, I’m not even focused on any dating (I guess I wasn’t last time either, but whatever). My focus is to heal from this last surgery and take care of myself and my family. I have a plan to buy a new car. My daughter is going to start driving and take over my current car. I’m taking care of my body, my family, my finances, and anything else that’s important to ME.

My New Years resolution is to give myself grace. Try my best and remember I can’t control everything. God has it.

New Year, New Priorities.

God, Family, Me.

Stifle Me Not

1-Week Countdown

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Honesty, Motivation, Positive Attitude, Taking Charge, , , ,

My surgery is in one week. Since being diagnosed, I’ve come a long way mentally. It was a rollercoaster at first. There have been a lot of “hurry up and wait” moments. Last night was my final screening test before my surgery, a CT scan. Just what I wanted to do on a freezing Friday night in January – hang out in the ground floor level (aka basement) Radiology waiting room to drink crap for more body imaging. Luckily, they called me in early, so I didn’t have to wait as long as I thought. On my way home, I gripped the wheel the whole way while driving in cold, windy freezing rain. I told myself this is winter; this is how it is. This is just how it is.

I now have a week to get as much done as possible before surgery. This includes everything with work, home, kids, and informing people that are taking care of me about certain things. Certain things like… hey, here’s a schedule for each kid before, during, and after school… and hey, here’s an envelope to open only if I don’t wake up from my anesthesia.

I don’t have a will. I realize I should have one, but I wasn’t prepared for this. I threw together a quick 2-page document that outlines a few things and wishes, and I intend to revise it, but I don’t have a lawyer to make a significant plan right now. I don’t even have time for surgery. Good thing God is in charge, because I don’t have time for any of this!

I’m still not sure how I’ll stop being my usual active, busy self, but I suppose the music will stop and I’ll just have to stop as well. The last few weekends have been nonstop. This morning I was running around with my kids for about 4 hours. My daughter needed new running shoes and a haircut, and then my son had a soccer game. It’s all basic Saturday errands, but I won’t be able to drive for a few weeks after my surgery, and it’s really bothering me. I understand I won’t even feel well to drive, but I’m just so used to being physically independent to do whatever I want.

I have a mental checklist of all the things I want to do before I’m forced into restriction mode. I have to make sure my bathroom is clean, my floors are vacuumed, my sheets are changed, my laundry is all clean, etc. I’m also making a grocery list. I intend to make a run to Costco next weekend, so we’re stocked up on school snacks and toiletries, etc. I have an oil change scheduled for my car mid-week. I want to get a couple of books. It’s all basic stuff, many things that I do regularly anyhow, but I have the extra stress of knowing I won’t be able to freely do these things for about a month after my surgery.

Well, here we go, it’s a 1-week countdown to getting a mastectomy and reconstruction. Let’s hope I tackle everything and then some, so I can get the healing process started. This hard, but my mindset is in a good place right now. It helps that I have a wonderful family and friends checking on me. My prayers are more focused on “God, take these worries and anxieties away” more than anything else. Well, other than “God, please protect my kids throughout their day”.

Lately it feels like, if I can just subside the fear of what’s to come, I can get to it and through it.

Stifle Me Not

Rollercoaster Ride

Breast Cancer, , , ,

I feel like I’m on a rollercoaster I did not sign up to ride. I’ve been feeling pretty good mentally and emotionally about moving forward with surgery in January. I’ve been researching what to expect post-surgery and trying to mentally prepare myself. That’s how I operate, the more I know, the less shock, the better I can deal with it. I’m even okay with not having all the information so I can adjust to expecting the unexpected. I can handle surprises along the way, but for some reason my first visit to the oncologist punched me in the face and sent me spiraling.

Leading up to the oncologist appointment, I’ve been in a world of distractions. I hadn’t thought about it too much. I jotted down some questions to ask, but to me it was just another appointment. I ended up with the flu after my son had it last weekend, so I dealt with the 3-day fever and focused on getting back to work. I met with my surgeon over the phone because I couldn’t go in for the appointment due to my fever. She explained my MRI results more and the surgery plan – what to expect and what is to be determined after further testing up to a week after my surgery. She answered every question to the best of her ability.

On Thursday, I went to work as usual and left early for my 3 pm oncologist appointment. My mom was waiting for me in the parking lot. I’m so grateful for my mom. She talks a lot, but she’s really trying to be there for me. She’s a good distraction while we wait in the waiting rooms because she talks about the craziest stuff. And this time was no different. We got checked in, led back to the exam room, and waited for what seemed like forever for the oncologist. I was asked the same questions I’m always asked over and over – medication list, etc, etc.

My oncologist, a petite Indian woman in her mid 50s, walked in and began the appointment. She spoke quietly, studied my chart quite a bit, asked a few questions, did a quick exam, and basically told me more of what I already knew – that I’d have to wait for post-surgery pathology results to return in order for her to be able to make a plan. She basically ran through a few potential plans, but kept ending it with, “but we’ll have to wait for your results”. At the end, my mom innocently asked “if she were to have chemo, how long would that process be?”

The doctor, with her face mask covering most of her expression, so I could only see the serious look in her eye said, “6 months”. She said, “it will be very strong, and it would be every two weeks for 6 months.” There was no hesitation to this response. There was no maybe this or maybe that, it was a very direct and definitive response.

Well shit.

I was happily digesting all information until that point. And then my brain malfunctioned into a soggy mess. My mom sat there with her mouth open for what seemed like eternity, while I fought back tears. I can’t tell you what else was said in that appointment. She ordered me two more tests to get and was on her way, said she was going on a trip to India and would be back after the New Year. The next time I’ll see her is a week after my surgery, when she decides the best treatment plan for me. Everyone left the room, and I cried while I got changed back into my clothes. My mom tried to hug me. I walked my tear-stained face to the appointment desk to make three more appointments in January: Bone density test, CT scan, follow up visit to oncologist. I feel like I need a personal assistant to help with all of my upcoming appointments.

I’m not sad for me. Obviously, I want to be healthy, but all I can think about is how my health is going to negatively impact my kids. They are 14 and 8. I physically do a lot to take care of them. I literally don’t sit down until about 8 pm every night after very full days. I was prepared for a 4-to-6-week recovery time from surgery. That feels very temporary. But to realize that my New Year could be completely eaten up with cancer treatments that are going to exhaust and deplete me (after finally recovering from surgery) is so disheartening and just makes me sad that I’ll be a burden. My parents are in their mid to late 60s. They already raised me, I don’t feel like they should have to take care of me. I then get furious at my ex-husband. I should be his mess. He should be taking care of me and the kids. I called him crying on my drive home from the appointment to let him know of the possibilities I just heard. I don’t expect him to take care of me, but he needs to step it up with our children. He didn’t say much, mostly tried to tell me “we’ll figure it out.”

Ugh. I got home and got my kids in the car, drove to meet my ex so they could be with their dad for the next couple of days. I ordered Indian food for pick up and came home to watch a movie and eat. Nothing tasted good. The movie ended up having a woman in it that got breast cancer and died. Seriously? I cannot make this up.

All I can do is pray. I have no control over anything. I’m supposed to be on this rollercoaster for some reason that remains to be seen. If I had no Faith, this would be much worse. It brings me peace when I’m spiraling. I’m a planner, but long-term goals are not in my view right now. So I’m going to go short-term and concentrate on enjoying Christmas with my loving family.

Stifle Me Not