One month ago, I didn't have breast cancer. Well, I didn't KNOW I have breast cancer. Ignorance truly is bliss, isn't it? But ignorance can be deadly as well. Had I NOT went to my mammogram, had I put it off even several more months, I'd likely be facing a much different future.
My surgery was this morning. My day began at 5 a.m. when Taylor Swift began yelling at me from my stepmom's phone to "shake it off." Indeed. By 6:30, I was entering the Spectrum's Lake Drive Surgical Center, signing in, signing off, and donning another medical wristband. Soon, I was in Room 23, trading my clothes for a Bair Paws gown, hair cap, and purple Bair Paws socks. The gown had holes in it and the nurse hooked a hose into one of those holes and gave me a small controller to adjust the temperature OF THE INSIDE OF MY GOWN. How cool is THAT!?
Hell, even the IV went smoothly this time.
Dr. App [God bless this tiny marvel of a woman] arrived, met some of my family, then kicked them out so she could draw on me. Literally. It's an odd feeling to have someone draw on you, saying things like, "And here's where we're going to put your nipple." [Understatement.] The anesthesiologist stopped by, other members of the surgical team said hello, and I was soon wheeled into the actual surgery room. The last thing I remember is Dr. App talking to the team about who I am and what they'd be doing today. The next thing I remember is coming to with the song, "I Want To Write You A Song," going through my head.
I felt some pain and some nausea. I immediately directed my attention to my left arm, and realized I did NOT have tubing coming from it as I'd expected. Then *cue CELEBRATION* the BEST NEWS EVER:
My sentinel lymph nodes showed no sign of cancer and a drain had not been necessary for the four they removed! The surgery was a complete success!
LITERALLY, the best possible outcome [outside of the Dr. determining that the pathology report was incorrect and there's no cancer ANYWHERE.]
I didn't stay too long in recovery. I'm probably too proud of the fact that the unseen patients on either side of me were groaning and moaning and asking for more pain medication while my nurse latched onto a sigh, "You sighed - do you need more medication?" Once back in my Room 23, they brought me a small banana muffin and water (and medication). Maybe an hour later, I was headed home.
My surgery went wonderfully. For me. *cue CLIFFHANGER*
Did I mention the evacuation and firetruck?