I apologize right now for starting this post with what may seem like sudden frustration, a change of tune from where I was in my last post. But I hope you can understand the ebbs and flows of the emotions that I am going through. The one thing I've always promised myself is to be true to my feelings on this blog, to not hide the good, the bad and the ugly. It's what has made this blog so therapeutic for me. There have certainly been some beautiful lessons I've learned from this. Lessons that have been a blessing, as I believe they've made me a stronger, better person. But I'd be lying if I told you I am continually thankful for the struggles.
This past Tuesday I was admitted to the hospital for an emergency surgery. A complete turn of events as my next surgery was not scheduled until August 13th where I was to undergo one of the final stages of reconstruction by getting my tissue expanders finally replaced with more natural looking implants. Additionally, right before the 13th Jon and I were happily looking forward to celebrating our 10 year anniversary in Las Vegas by renewing our vows in Elvis-style with our closest friends. It all began last week when I traveled to San Diego for work. Those in the industry know that every third-or-so week of July is one of the biggest events in the Entertainment industry: San Diego Comic-Con (SDCC). With a big film opening on August 23rd (The World's End), SDCC was a major marketing and publicity platform for us. Given the importance of this, and feeling like I was getting better every day, I personally made the decision I could work the conference. I knew it was going to be tiring, but I promised myself to not push my body, to listen to it when it needed rest, and to take it easier than past years. Again, good intentions, but not always the easiest to put into action. What I didn't plan for was the intensity of the walking, the overwhelming fear of the crowds bumping into my chest nor the fact that I'd be seeing all the wonderful business friends who have been following my journey since last year. As I've been very strict on limiting outside meetings given my constricted hours in the office, I haven't seen many people except those at my company. The overflowing love and encouragement of seeing people in San Diego was nothing short of inspiring for me, but in hindsight a bit overtaxing on my body. Who knows if it was any of this that caused the following set backs, or if it would have happened no matter what. I like to think the latter, as it was 100% my decision to take on the challenge of SDCC. All I know is that on Friday late night I started feeling intense pain deep in my right chest. I tried to sleep it off, but when I woke up the pain was still throbbing through my body and I soon discovered an odd oily fluid secreting from under the bandages on my chest. Thankfully my husband was with me, and we immediately called my surgeon who prescribed me antibiotics and scheduled an appointment for Monday. She said it sounded like I had an infection, and the drugs would hopefully clear things up. We took the train home and waited it out on Saturday and Sunday. On Monday I went in to see her and held my breath as she pulled off the tape that had been protecting my right breast since January (and was to remain there until my implant surgery 3 short weeks away). As she gently removed the tape, I instinctually took a quick look down and have since regretted that glimpse. Although the past year has certainly hardened my queasiness to needles, blood and all medical ailements, I was not expecting to see what I saw. I literally looked down into an open cavity on my chest. My skin had ripped, and the entire tissue expander was exposed. All I can say is my heart sank, and I looked up at my doctor who sighed and told me that my skin didn't make it. I could see her brain working as she was thinking out loud the options available to fix it. I remember asking her with tears in my eyes... "so, the worst case scenario happened to me, didn't it?", and she looked at me and confirmed that yes, it did. But the thing about my surgeon is she is one amazing positive woman, and she told me that it was all going to be OK, and that although it was a set-back, we would get through it. She finished by stitching me up in the office, something else I wasn't expecting otherwise I would have prepared myself with a driver (Jon) and some pain meds, something I definitely regretted as she sowed the last stitch in a place where my nerves had managed to come back to life. The pain only subsided when she gave me a numbing shot. (Perhaps the good news out of this is apparently I have some feeling back in my chest!) From there she told me I needed to report to the ER for surgery the following day so she could clean out my chest, replace the expander and add some Allograft (cadaver skin) which would add more skin to my very thin chest. The same would have to be done to the left side since I was now to delay my implant surgery another 3 months, increasing my risk of the same complication happening on the other side if I didn't fix it now.
This past Tuesday I was admitted to the hospital for an emergency surgery. A complete turn of events as my next surgery was not scheduled until August 13th where I was to undergo one of the final stages of reconstruction by getting my tissue expanders finally replaced with more natural looking implants. Additionally, right before the 13th Jon and I were happily looking forward to celebrating our 10 year anniversary in Las Vegas by renewing our vows in Elvis-style with our closest friends. It all began last week when I traveled to San Diego for work. Those in the industry know that every third-or-so week of July is one of the biggest events in the Entertainment industry: San Diego Comic-Con (SDCC). With a big film opening on August 23rd (The World's End), SDCC was a major marketing and publicity platform for us. Given the importance of this, and feeling like I was getting better every day, I personally made the decision I could work the conference. I knew it was going to be tiring, but I promised myself to not push my body, to listen to it when it needed rest, and to take it easier than past years. Again, good intentions, but not always the easiest to put into action. What I didn't plan for was the intensity of the walking, the overwhelming fear of the crowds bumping into my chest nor the fact that I'd be seeing all the wonderful business friends who have been following my journey since last year. As I've been very strict on limiting outside meetings given my constricted hours in the office, I haven't seen many people except those at my company. The overflowing love and encouragement of seeing people in San Diego was nothing short of inspiring for me, but in hindsight a bit overtaxing on my body. Who knows if it was any of this that caused the following set backs, or if it would have happened no matter what. I like to think the latter, as it was 100% my decision to take on the challenge of SDCC. All I know is that on Friday late night I started feeling intense pain deep in my right chest. I tried to sleep it off, but when I woke up the pain was still throbbing through my body and I soon discovered an odd oily fluid secreting from under the bandages on my chest. Thankfully my husband was with me, and we immediately called my surgeon who prescribed me antibiotics and scheduled an appointment for Monday. She said it sounded like I had an infection, and the drugs would hopefully clear things up. We took the train home and waited it out on Saturday and Sunday. On Monday I went in to see her and held my breath as she pulled off the tape that had been protecting my right breast since January (and was to remain there until my implant surgery 3 short weeks away). As she gently removed the tape, I instinctually took a quick look down and have since regretted that glimpse. Although the past year has certainly hardened my queasiness to needles, blood and all medical ailements, I was not expecting to see what I saw. I literally looked down into an open cavity on my chest. My skin had ripped, and the entire tissue expander was exposed. All I can say is my heart sank, and I looked up at my doctor who sighed and told me that my skin didn't make it. I could see her brain working as she was thinking out loud the options available to fix it. I remember asking her with tears in my eyes... "so, the worst case scenario happened to me, didn't it?", and she looked at me and confirmed that yes, it did. But the thing about my surgeon is she is one amazing positive woman, and she told me that it was all going to be OK, and that although it was a set-back, we would get through it. She finished by stitching me up in the office, something else I wasn't expecting otherwise I would have prepared myself with a driver (Jon) and some pain meds, something I definitely regretted as she sowed the last stitch in a place where my nerves had managed to come back to life. The pain only subsided when she gave me a numbing shot. (Perhaps the good news out of this is apparently I have some feeling back in my chest!) From there she told me I needed to report to the ER for surgery the following day so she could clean out my chest, replace the expander and add some Allograft (cadaver skin) which would add more skin to my very thin chest. The same would have to be done to the left side since I was now to delay my implant surgery another 3 months, increasing my risk of the same complication happening on the other side if I didn't fix it now.
So Tuesday I spent 4 hours in surgery again. I won't go into detail the pain of the IV as the 2 nurses spent minutes (felt like hours) moving the needle inside my arm trying to find a good vein, which I knew wasn't going to be easy since half of them are no longer working from the chemo. Jon was by my side as always, but this time before surgery I couldn't help but feel a bit deflated. It wasn't the first time I was scared before a surgery, but it was the first time I was worried about waking up. I don't know why, and of course it's silly now to think, but I think the emotions took the best of me.
I returned home on Tuesday night, but the recovery hasn't been easy, contrary to what myself and the Doctors were expecting. Wednesday I fought a 101+ fever, and my stomach and head were hurting so bad it was almost worse than my chest. I came home with 2 drains attached to my side again, and am on pain meds 24/7. I also seem to be fighting an allergic reaction to something from the surgery as I have hives all over my neck and arms. The good news is that I am slowly getting better. The first 48 hours were almost unbearable, I honestly must have blocked out how bad it was after my previous 2 surgeries. Beyond the physical ailments, perhaps it's also a combination of mentally being so frustrated with feeling like I was getting so close to seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, only to find out the tunnel is much longer than I anticipated.
I am again reminded how humbling it is to not have the ability to wash my own body, feed my own mouth and stand on my own two feet. Perhaps the human mind erases these things to help us cope, and it shakes my core again to be reminded what life was like in January and February.
Today I'm feeling the best yet... I am well enough to write this post, something I've been meaning to do on better days. I'll have to start the rehabilitation process again, as I am not allowed to move my upper arms for 10 days (I feel like I look like a t-rex in those cartoons with little arms wavering about). And I have positive hopes that I won't be starting at square one this time, perhaps just a few steps backwards and not an entire mile.
I guess things just don't always go the way we plan in life, and I need to be ok with that. Another lesson learned.
