Yesterday morning was my first follow up with Dr. Goldberg. I was surprised that she wanted me back in her office so soon after the surgery. I know she had said the drain could not be removed until I was passing less than 30 ml of fluid in a 24 hour period through the drain, and I was not quite there yet. I think another 24 hours and I would be under the 30 ml limit. But we went as scheduled.
She pulled off all the tape over the incisions on my breasts and reviewed the fluid output on the drain with me. She decided to pull out the drain after all. Hubby had a bird’s eye view of all that was being done. I asked her and her assistant to lay me down before she pulled out the drain, due to my low BP and extremely sensitive parasympathetic nervous system. No problem, the exam table I was propped up on was extended and laid back so I would get my head/heart lower than my legs, and she snipped a couple stitches around my nipples and then took off the Tegaderm bandage that was over the gauze and tubing from the drain. I heard her snip another stitch there and felt a little tug. She told me to take a deep breath and she must have pulled out the drain as I was looking over at Hubby and his eyes got real big and he went a little ashen.
Dr. Goldberg said everything was healing nicely and she’s never had any complaints about perky new boobs. She must have seen my face, as I am still not sure about the new boobs. She continued to give me positive, peppy feedback on how beautiful my boobs look now, and they are a great size for me. I asked her what size they were; she said she was able to give me a C cup.
She left her assistant with instructions to tape all the incisions back up, and was getting ready to leave us with instructions to come back in a week and a half when she asked if we had any other questions. Hubby did, he asked her about the hole left by the drain, would that be covered up? She said that would close up on its own, may even drain a little more fluid. She could see on his face this was a little daunting to him. She looked at me and said they could add a dressing to it if I wanted. I looked at her, then I looked at Hubby, and told her, “He’s the caretaker, if he wants a bandage, then we should add a bandage.” It’s not like I could see the hole that was left. Her nurse had no problem added a gauze dressing over my drain hole…
Next appointment is scheduled for April 11, our 23 year anniversary. Carolyn, Dr. Goldberg’s admin/nurse, congratulated us on that great milestone and set up our next appointment.
When we left Hubby told me he was surprised at how much tubing from the drain was pulled out of me. He said it must have been curled up in both breasts and coiled up to my ears! He thought he should have been the one laying down when she pulled the drain.
After we got back home, the Toothless Wonder Cat was waiting for us and wanted to come back in the house, so I grabbed a jar of baby food and sat on the sofa with the blanket on my lap and up he came to eat and then nap.
We slept together for a while, but this was uncomfortable for me, so asked him if we could move to the chaise. He was a perfect gentleman, he got up off my lap, walked over to the chaise, and waited 
patiently while I got myself settled and the blanket set before he jumped back up into my lap where we continued our nap together. Obviously Hubby had seen us while we were on the sofa and snapped a picture of us. He saw us again on the chaise, but didn’t stop to get another picture as he was headed to the airport to pick up my mom who was stopping here for a quick visit before continuing on to the San Francisco Bay Area for the rest of the week.
Sometime after Hubby left, Toothless Wonder Cat woke up, walked up my torso, and stared at me until I woke up so he could let me know he was ready to go back outside. That was when I realized Hubby was off to get mom, and I should really wake up. I was awake and just getting the lap blankets back to their folded places when Hubby and Mom arrived.
I had a nice visit with Mom, sharing stories, knowledge and the morning’s adventures at the doctor’s office. The Darling Daughter, the Grandson and his cousin/sibling came over a little later and the Darling Daughter cooked dinner for us while the little ones played. Hubby turned into Grandpa and had a great time playing with the kids. We have folding tables set up still from the holidays in our back room, and the Grandson has decided this is the place to have conversations with Grandpa. At one point yesterday, all three of them were under the tables talking about the grandson’s last trip to Knott’s Berry Farm. His cousin went as well. They were celebrating another cousin’s birthday. Grandson told Grandpa that he went on Grandpa’s favorite ride. It scared him, but he went on other roller coasters even though that one was really scary. Grandpa asked him if he would go on the big one again, grandson said he would go with him on the big one. His cousin said she does not like roller coasters, and Grandpa asked her if she liked the rides in Camp Snoopy, she agreed she did like those rides. Her favorite ride is the Snoopy show.
I love that the Grandson has picked a spot that is his safe talking area. I think the next time he’s over we should add blankets to his “safe space” so they have a real hide out to have their “talks”.
The son-in-law joined us for dinner, but it was almost time for Hubby to take Mom back to the airport for her flight back to the Bay Area. She did confirm that due to my Cousin dealing with the death of her father-in-law, that the Passover Seder this year will not be the normal one we have. The rest of the family will be meeting for dinner together at a restaurant, but no Seder. Hanukkah will be the next big family gathering.
During diner we did discuss my hair and how it’s growing in. 
How my eyebrows are growing in like a teenage boys attempt to grow a mustache, looks like dirt smudged above my eyes; how my eyelashes are little stubs getting longer; how the hair on the top of my head is behind and much lighter than the hair on the sides of my head. I have a Patrick Stewart look happening. Mom said she forgotten my birth mark, but it’s still there – 
that faint red patch on the back of my head/neck. But at least all the hair growing in is super soft. Grandson was paying attention to all this banter and I could see he wanted to touch my hair by his body language. His hands opening and closing, his body leaning forward. So I asked him if he wanted to touch my hair, he eagerly reached out and started to lightly rub my head, and his hand quickly increased in pressure as he looked at me and said, “I love soft things Nane!” I told him I did too. Several times the rest of the evening he reached out to rub my head in passing.
I didn’t show my Mom my boobs. I thought about it, but I am not sure about them. I did show the Darling Daughter. She also tried to keep a positive spin on my new boobs, stating at one point, when I am healed enough from all of this and go back to faire, my new boobies will be wowing everyone when they are in costume.
I am still trying to come to terms with my new perky boobies. I was having second thoughts the week before my surgery to make these new boobs. But I knew I made the decision to have my boobs fixed before all the chemo, before the surgery to take out the originally affected area – the lumpectomy. I was not sure if I called off my surgery at the last minute I’d actually be happy with “Wop-sided” boobs (Hubby’s term). That is the only reason I went through with the surgery, I had made the decision before chemo brain, and all the emotional strain of getting to this point. Now I have to come to terms with the outcome.
I know I should be excited about new perky boobs, but I am not. I liked my old ones. They were good boobs. They were comfortable, lived in, used. I knew them. I didn’t really choose to have new boobs because I wanted them. I was forced into this decision. I was forced to choose between having a disfigured breast that would be three to four inches smaller than the left breast, a constant negative reminder of a loss in my war against cancer, one of the things cancer was able to take away from me; or to pretty up that battlefield, to try and make it a small victory in my overall war. The one I am currently winning.
I was forced to choose… I am trying to be excited, or at least accepting. I know there are so many more women out there who have had to make more difficult choices about their breasts, some who have the choice taken away from them altogether due to complications from surgeries. I at least had a fairly “easy” choice. But I don’t think this is an easy choice for any of us.
While I physically heal from these surgeries, from having my breasts restructured so they match and look pretty, and perky, I will also try to heal emotionally from this assault to my body, which has changed it from one I knew intimately to something new. Come to terms that is OK to have teenage boobs at 53, that I am a survivor and that this was a hard battle to win, changes come with this type of battle. I can embrace change. I can roll with change. I can be change.
I can mourn my loss, I can mourn the changes forced upon me, and I can grow, be stronger, have more empathy for those who face these same challenges, who face their own demons associated with their battles; learn to accept change easier, have more patience. I will heal, I will mourn, I will accept, I will learn, and I will grow. But first I will mourn, one more time, for a little bit, then I will be OK with these changes to my body.
Life is learning to let go
This is not the first time you have mentioned letting go in your blog. I’ve learned that that is the most difficult challenge I’ve had in my entire life, letting go. By now, though, I have been forced to let go of so much that is dear to me, I’ve learned that what is important, more than my letting go, is the freedom that gives not only me, but also others around me who are affected by my act of release. I still struggle with some things I want to hold close and keep, but eventually, I can release them and feel the relief of taking away my own angst in that simple act. I pray that you are able to do the same, even with your old boobies, and accept what is now your new reality. It really isn’t what’s on the outside that makes you so special, it’s your heart, your spirit, your essence. LYTTMAB!