I never expected to be in this situation so soon. Once diagnosed with cancer, it is always in the back of your mind that the disease is lurking, waiting. It's sad to say this is how cancer patients do live. I have read enough on Google to know this is perfectly normal. No amount of positivity is going to keep cancer away, but a positive attitude saves you from sitting in the corner and curling up in the foetal position and letting a wonderful life pass you by. I choose positivity!
I arrived at hospital on Tuesday 17/2/2015 to be met by a host of beautiful nurses, who I call Angels, some of whom I had last year. They were sad to see me again so soon and took great care of me.
My left breast left my body sometime between 8.15am and 10.40am. Where it is now, I don't know but I guess part of it will be with pathologists so they can write up their report.
I returned to my room and declared: "I am a duck...quack" and, on cue, would paddle my feet like a duck. Wayne and Luke found this highly entertaining. I also wouldn't let go of Luke's hand and poked Wayne in the face more times than he cares to remember. I would also "go to sleep" when told to as well. I do recall going off to my happy place - paddling down the Waikato River on a rubber tube - such a happy memory from last Sunday's excursion.
I didn't really grasp what it would mean when I woke up from the three hour operation to find I had had a Mastectomy of my left breast. My right breast looked awkward, out of place, next to a flat chest. My initial thought was they should have taken both. I looked to Wayne to see if he was revolted by what he saw, but he said "It's not that bad, Hon". A look in the mirror reflected something slightly bizarre - I couldn't really make sense of what I was seeing in the mirror.
I feel that this reality is harder than last year's. Even though I said last year to take the breast off, the surgeon considered a lumpectomy was enough, and I trusted him then and I still trust him now. He dealt with what he saw at the time - a single lump that was invasive into the lymph nodes. Even now the medical team are perplexed as to what has happened for me to get another type of breast cancer and whether removing the breast is going to be enough or do I require another round of chemo. The medical team will get together and in a month I will meet with the Onocologist for their plan.
Today is day 5 and I realise, prior to the operation, I made too light of a serious situation. I joked at my own expense about "losing a tit", "cutting it off", "I'm going to walk around in circles", "thousands of other women out there are walking around like me", "easy way to lose weight". I didn't give my body enough respect. And I also didn't allow myself to feel - I want to be the "isn't Andrea amazing how she is coping with this" person everyone has come to know and expect.
Well, let me tell you, the façade is cracking, the resolve is faltering, the ability to smile, come what may, feels under strain. This is tough, and all because my emotions are kicking in.
Going through chemo and radiation, well you know what's happening; for some reason your body takes what is thrown at it; tiredness is its legacy.
But when a part of your body gets removed, that is a different story. It is visible every day, in your face, as you stand naked in front of the mirror. You are now maimed, beyond curvaceous and voluptuous: you are in a state of change. If cancer comes again, other parts will be chopped off as medicine works out what to do next. This is my reality.
I have a dacron prosthesis in a support bra - yes, I am lop sided. I have staggered sideways a couple of times and got the giggles realising my point of centre is askew. A weighted prosthesis will be fitted in a couple of weeks when the swelling goes down.
I managed to lie on my side this afternoon which is progress and such a nice change from my back. Both Wayne and Luke have expressed concern at my deathly snoring!
Luke has now moved back home waiting for his beloved Christine to arrive in three weeks. Wayne continues to work so Luke is in charge of trying to reign me in. He didn't succeed today as I claimed cabin fever so off we went out for coffee but only for an hour then back home and rest.
So, all in all, I'm tired, I'm anxious and I need hugs, so don't be afraid to hug me close if and when you see me - it could be just what I need; and bear with me as I express myself and learn from what the emotional challenge of all this is going to teach me.
