IT had been close to a week after my lumpectomy and I was at home doing the ‘lay in bed, post-surgery recovery- don’t- move- too -much –or- everything- hurts- routine. This had certainly cleared up any jokes I had made prior about ‘ meh side ah hut meh’ – indeed it was not a funny sight to behold the tubes that had been inserted into my healing cut, as well as some area around my right upper back. A closed suction drain is used to remove fluids that build up in areas of the body after surgery or when an infection is present. Before being discharged I was shown by the nurses and doctor how to care for my drainage tubes (these were to remain for at least a week or until drainage of fluids had stopped/decreased significantly). Blood and other sticky- looking fluids would drain through the tubes into an air-compressed container from where I would then uncompress the container and release fluids into a container for disposal. ‘Yeah, of course I can do this – by myself’, I insisted to my mom after the first two days of her doing it for me. I later found out whilst attempting to clean my drain for the first time on my own, that this required more mental strength than physical dexterity.
It didn’t take me one minute to start feeling as though I wanted to pass out– I was fine with looking at the blood when other people emptied the drain, but lack of mental preparation made me physically freak out and start to have a mini panic attack in the bathroom. I made it back to my bedroom, threw myself – very carefully of course — on the bed and yelled to my mom that I was dying (dramatic much?) Eventually I got the drainage bit sorted out and did it myself after that day, but it did surprise me the way the mind works– I could stare at my cut and missing flesh and not feel squeamish, but seeing the tubes was an entirely different experience.
This was just the beginning of my ‘don’t freak out’ post-surgery training. It came to pass that I accidentally pulled one of my ‘invisible’ stitches out, resulting in a one- inch gap in my healing wound. Thankfully, it didn’t require more stitches, just better care until it fully healed. My worst fear about being in pain was never realised throughout this entire process. The area operated on, was numb from anaesthesia for more than two weeks I believe; I never experienced pain. Sure, I was sore around the areas that I could feel, but nothing debilitating or unbearable. Whatever the good drugs were, I had gotten them and they worked. Use of my right arm was restricted, since they had cut into it to remove the affected lymph nodes– after less than a month of simple arm exercises, I regained full usage of my arm.
Prior to all my medical debauchery, I had been employed by the State in a very demanding job and had often times wished I could just stay home and lay in bed all day for a week. Well, be careful what you wish for,because you just might get it– and I did. Never had I wanted to leave my room and bed so badly as I did in that seemingly unending week. I had more time than I needed to dwell over my much- anticipated biopsy results and what it would really reveal. At this point, even after hearing the doctor’s premature diagnosis in the hospital, my belief that I was cancer-free still trumped what he had said to me. There was absolutely no way I had cancer — I would know, I thought. I would definitely be feeling sick, wouldn’t I? ‘You did a great job Doc’, I reasoned daily with myself, ‘but you’re wrong about this.’ We do not know what we have until we have been threatened with its removal or worse yet, our removal. My friends visited often, usually filling my room up with all the things I shouldn’t be eating unless I was an aspiring diabetic, but Mom eventually wisened up and started to run damage control; the Hershey’s cookies and cream never made it up the stairs.
It is good to have the foundation pulled from under one’s feet at times, so that we may distinguish between rocks and sand, often times who is which may surprise you. I could not change what already was, but I could change the way I reacted to situations and people and I have since employed that thinking in everything that I currently do. In a way, the surgery experience prepared me mentally for the upcoming biopsy results that would, in the blink of an eye, change my entire life and its outlook forever. (to be continued next week)