The last words I ever expected to cross my lips were “I just had plastic surgery”. But there it is. I just had plastic surgery. I am not a vain person, I don’t wear make-up or fuss with my hair or clothes or my appearance in general. I had considered not doing reconstruction at all, but I am just self-conscious enough to want something there, so I can change clothes in the locker room without embarrassment. Yet, for me this surgery marks the end of this journey battling cancer, and somewhat of a return to normal.
I arrived at 11:00 on Monday for pre-surgery preparations. Surgery was scheduled for 12:30, but the surgeon was behind schedule so I had extra time to sit, hungry, craving my morning coffee, and worrying about the surgery. My boyfriend, always there to cheer me up, put adorable kitten videos on his phone to help pass the time. It worked, and before long, I was all ready to be rolled off to the operating room.
Because I had lymph nodes removed on both sides, I am not supposed to have IVs or blood pressure cuffs on my arms. I convinced them to do the blood pressure on my leg, but they would not do the IV in my foot, so I had an IV on the left side, which had fewer nodes involved. It hurt like crazy going in because my chemo-weakened vein tried to run and hide. She eventually got the IV in place, and pre-surgery meds started flowing. As with every surgery, I begged the anesthesiologist not to make me sick. They always give me the works to prevent nausea. Antacids, motion sickness patches, anti-nausea meds, but it never seems to work. I always end up sick to my stomach. So that happened. Again.
The plastic surgeon checked in on me and drew lines all over my chest and stomach while I could still stand up. Apparently, they don’t want to make the lines after you are unconscious, flat on your back. Once that was done, they wheeled me off to the operating room right in my recliner. Entering the OR, I said, “I see the party has started without me, and just as I expected, brightly lit and cold”. There was some lighthearted joking around, then they wanted me to get as comfortable as I could on the operating table before they completely knocked me out. I felt relatively comfortable, with my arms straight out at my sides, airplane-like, so the oxygen mask was placed over my nose and mouth with instructions to take deep breaths. Nighty night….
Next thing I remember, vaguely, was coming to gradually in the recovery room. I heard Andy’s voice and the nurse telling me something, though I don’t remember any of it. I noticed at that time that my left hand had fallen asleep and was tingly. Apparently, they got me up and dressed. It was late in the day and everyone was anxious to get home. I was the last one on the floor for the day. I was becoming more and more alert, and I wanted to go home. That’s when the nausea hit. I got sick, which made me feel better, but then they took away my crackers.
Feeling better, they got me up to walk to the bathroom. I felt weak and lightheaded, but managed ok. Until I had to try to pull my pants up. My sleeping left arm was not working. This made me panic. I feared the worst-they paralyzed my arm. I would never have traded use of my arm for new breasts. A future without the use of my arm horrified me. I have big plans for my future, and most of them involve physical labor (rehabbing houses) and motorcycles, and a generally active and adventurous lifestyle. What would I do with one arm? And that was my “good” arm, that hadn’t endured multiple surgeries.
This new problem delayed everyone’s departure for the day, but eventually, I was wheeled out to the car and sent on my way to recover at home. I managed to sleep fairly well that night and most of the next day. I did speak to the surgeon and the anesthesiologist about my arm, and they reassured me that it is temporary and I should expect to regain use of my arm over the next two weeks. The specialist they spoke with says it happens sometimes, when the arms are stretched out for an extended time. They think the nerve was over-extended or pinched due to swelling. Maybe the IV in my arm also caused the problem. So, I just have to wait and see. If it isn’t better in two weeks, I’ll have to see a specialist. Now, it is three days later and my arm is still numb and tingly, but I am regaining some movement, which is reassuring.
Besides the arm issue and the nausea, the surgery went well. There was a bit of skin that was so damaged from radiation that it had to be removed, though, so the scar may be bigger than I thought. I am tightly wrapped in gauze, with a tight girdle-like piece wrapped around my abdomen. I have to keep this all wrapped up until next Tuesday, when the plastic surgeon will remove the dressings, and expose the end result for me to see.