Good evening, Virtual World!
Tonight marks two weeks and six days post surgery. These last 20 days have been a roller coaster both physically and emotionally. Last week's post described what it has been like from a physical standpoint. It has been nearly the same this week with the exception of the last few days, but we will get to that later in this post. I want to take the time to really talk through my feelings in this process.
At the end of chemo, there was so much happiness and relief. That was followed by mental preparedness and nerves about the upcoming surgery. The moment I realized I had woken up from the surgery, despite the fogginess of it all, I let out a sigh of relief. I had made it through a 10 hour surgery alive. There weren't any complications from what I could tell and my family's demeanor was calm, but this was not the case earlier in the day. My sister and mother waited in the waiting room ALL DAY watching the patient update screen. They sat watching a screen as a list of patients checked in and out of surgery, but my name remained. My mom said that even though she knew how long the procedure would take, it did not reduce the amount of anxiety she was feeling thinking about all the what ifs. What ifs will drive any human up the walls and it did for her. Her blood pressure fluctuated all day and they both didn't have an appetite to eat.
The remainder of my hospital stay was an uphill climb. The painful transferring of beds from ICU to the regular floor was by far my lowest point. A lack of empathy or words of encouragement from the staff as it was happening extended my breakdown. In that moment, I felt all of my mental crumbling. I was remembering all of the times that cancer tried to beat me down. I thought of my guilt as a mother, wife, friend, and sister for not being able to BE PRESENT when they needed me. I felt all of my loved ones pain and sadness as they endured cancer along side me. That lack of empathy caused my mental bubble to pop. Thankfully, this low point did not make an appearance again during my hospital stay. The remainder of my time I made baby steps towards my recovery. From the time I took my first unsuccessful walk, I slowly progressed and was able to walk up and down the hospital corridors by the time I was discharged. My appetite for food returned immediately after surgery. I did not require Tramadol around the clock to manage my pain and was only taking 1000 mg of regular Tylenol. I had my first bowel movement while in the hospital and was able to wipe myself without assistance. I even fed my own personal growth by gifting all of the surgeons, nursing, and patient care assistant staff a small goodie bag of personal essentials (Items Included: lip balm, hand lotion, hand sanitizer, healthy snacks, gum, and a nice pen). All of these positives really helped me feel comfortable to be discharged to finish my recovery in the comfort of my own home. Little did I know, another wave of tough times would arise there.
The remainder of week #1 and going into week #2 was very much like the hospital. I was unable to use my core or pectoral muscles to get up. My body was like a sack of potatoes that needed to be supported completely to get out of any bed or chair. I required around the clock care in case I needed to use the restroom. I had quite a few potty emergencies while laying in bed. It was almost like my lack of activity caused my digestive system to run at full speed. Shower time during the first two weeks was pretty relaxing. Jimmy and I developed a good routine for the order/method of the shower and also how to dress me afterwards. However things took a turn as I approached the two week mark. I began feeling really down on morale. It started the Friday that Jimmy was working. This was the first day that he had been away since I'd been home. I didn't want to ask my dad for too much help because I am constantly worried about him hurting his already fragile back. My whole family had just gone through back to back viral illnesses and my niece was starting to show signs of that. I insisted my sister stay home and care for her little so she could get better. We agreed to not keep spreading the germs. So I was at home in bed, left to my own thoughts.
The next few days passed as I reflected back on the first 2 weeks post op and realized I was spending approximately 22 hours a day in bed. I walk around the inside of the house, eat my meals at the dinner table, and use the restroom the other 2 hours of the day. I haven't felt strong enough to walk outside of the home as I still get winded if I'm up and about for too long. At this point, I'm still walking with a slight hunch which is killing my back. I am reminded that I am unable to care for myself without lots of assistance and it builds up my frustration and my emotions. When I received text messages from friends asking how I was doing, I would be holding back tears and responding with a simple "I'm okay."
To add fuel to the fire, my primary cure for bad days was no longer available. I realized how much I rely on my beautiful girls to get through the bad days. The hugs, the kisses, and the tickle monsters are what help to erase the day's troubles. I have to keep my distance from the kids for fear that they will physically hurt me or make me react and move outside of the recommended range. Separation from my babies may be the most difficult of the recovery. I missed Addison's PE performance and watching it on Jimmy's phone made me tear up. I can't remember a time that I missed anything of hers. I was feeling noticeably down and there wasn't anything happening that made me feel better. I kept having to remind myself that all of this is temporary and that THIS IS THE HOME STRETCH.
Over the last weekend, my abdominal drain finally had an output below 30 cc which meant I would be able to have it removed on Monday. Finally, my first glimmer of hope. I NEED TO GET OUT OF THIS FUNK. Monday came and the drain came out. It hurt when the medical assistant pulled it out, but I was so thankful drain care was finally over. We left the doctor's office and Jimmy treated me out to a delicious meal at Perry's Steakhouse. It was my first sit down, full service meal since having the surgery. I made it through the 1.5 hour meal without any major issues except for crusty breadcrumbs falling in my bra. (Side note: Crumbs ALWAYS fall out of my bra when I undress. Lol.) This lunch date was the most "normal" thing I had done in the last 2 weeks. This was a baby step in the right direction.
In the next few days, I finally succeeded in walking without a hunch. Despite the noticeable tightness in my torso, it felt amazing to not feel the strain on my lower back. I moved another step ahead. In the next few days, I managed to shower standing up, scrub all of my body (except my back) and dress myself. I have now gone from steps to leaps. The biggest highlight of this week has been my ability to use my core muscles to get myself out of bed. I no longer need another person to assist me. I can get up to get my own cup of water, my own snack, or just simply make it to the toilet on my own time. My family can have more flexibility in their schedule to focus on themselves versus devoting all of their time on me. THIS IS WHAT I NEEDED. As an added bonus, my first born showed her heart of gold once again. Her first entry in her Q&A book after a six month break was about me. The daily question was "Whom are you worried about? Why?" Her response was "I'm worried about my mom haveing cancer again." She has an unique way to express her love for me. It's almost like she knew what I needed to heal. I needed days #14-20 to finally feel like I can get through the rest of this recovery. I can finally do what I have been unable to do for the last 6 months. I can make plans for the future.
Special thanks to my husband, friends, and family for making Addison's birthday party happen. Despite everyone wanting me to postpone her party, you all rallied together to make it happen just two days after I was discharged from the hospital. Addison has showed so much courage and strength throughout the last 6 months. I did not want her celebration to be covered up by cancer. I did not want cancer to take away any more of her joy. You all did an amazing job to make sure she felt special.
In closing, I want to remind everyone that even the "strongest" of people have very dark moments. These things are cyclical and they will eventually pass. It is how you manage those dark days that determine how soon the days regain brightness. Do not be discouraged if you feel that things are too dark. Take a baby step in the right direction and as long as you can keep taking those baby steps, you will get to the brighter days. Do not spend time comparing your life to others. We all have our own paths and they are supposed to be different. Work towards what will make YOU happy not some idyllic societal expectation. I wish you all a successful new week full of steps in the right direction. Sweet dreams and thank you for continuing to follow along. :)