A week ago today, I was in surgery. I had both my breasts and nipples removed, the left with cancer and the other as prevention. I also had sentinel nodes removed that came back free of cancer. As I reflect on this last week, I first of all am grateful that the cancer was caught early. Mammograms ladies- they save lives, literally. The only real symptom I had was exhaustion and I thought I was still recovering from the Covid burnout of the last two and a half years. My labs looked off too. My family medicine doctor had a hunch and since I was 18 months out from a mammogram, he scheduled it on my birthday- during the week I had off. I’ve known since August I’ve had DCIS. With my biological mother and her 3 sisters all having breast cancer (one who has died), I have been having mammograms for several years now. This, however is not a reflection on my diagnosis and journey to the knife, at this time. I’m sure that will come in time too.
A week ago today, I woke up in recovery upset that I was taken from my beautiful dream of caroling to “old folks” and hearing the sound of jingle bells. My husband was brought to my bedside, along with my mom, and I couldn’t stop sharing what a good man he was with staff and how much I enjoyed hearing jingle bells! I became aware of how significantly I was comforted by the jingle of sleigh bells. Christmas is my absolute favorite time of year, and this was the first Christmas I was excited about, prepared for, and ready to celebrate in many years. My anesthesia induced dream felt like a gift, a Call and Response to use liturgical language, or even a Call to Worship.
A week ago today, I realized that following my own intuition, along with doctors’ and nurses’ recommendations and orders, has aided in my recovery. Before I found out about my cancer, I had gut knowing I needed to try running again or at least walking around my neighborhood. Lola came into my life, and I had already made a promise to her we were going to exercise together and daily. When I found out about the need for surgery, we went from walking to running, even taking Norm on a couple of those miles. My gut told me, though I only wanted to do the lumpectomy, that I needed to consider bilateral mastectomy (knowing my family history). A dear, direct radiation oncologist, who cared for a dear friend with osteosarcoma, nurtured the seed in my head for the best course of action with the most peace of mind. My surgical oncologist agreed with my desire to do bilateral, along with the sentinel nodes because they looked suspicious on ultrasound. He gave me space to come to that decision on my own. It was not an easy, nor quick one.
I listened as the pre-op nurse gave me sage advice as I prepared and as I recover, like drinking Gatorade before I came to the hospital- the sugar would help the operation and recovery. I listened as she shared her similar journey and was two years cancer free. My greatest fear she answered with her experience, limited upper body mobility for a time. My post-op nurse told me I needed to get up as soon as I could. Not expecting a response so quickly. I rolled to the room, instead of using the bedpan, I got up and walked to the bathroom and used it (with assistance and limited use of my arms). The day after, I was walking the hall hoping to go home. I did that evening.
I struggled most with listening to the doctors telling me to rest and do little. Let others do for me- a great challenge as a fiercely independent woman. I’ve cared tirelessly for for others, it was hard for me to let others give to me. A good mentor helped me to understand that and the need to let others offer their gifts. I’ve done my best and I must say I’m glad I have because at my week follow up appointment I was told I’m healing “beautifully.” I not only trusted the medical team, I trusted myself. I listened to my body. I began a journey toward healing and wellness before I knew I truly needed to. I had channeled my anxiety and moments of doubt into positive movement, prayer, and a knowing that this was a season, just as my daughter’s, would pass and had a deep peace so great I knew all would be well in the end.
The Journey Home 