Surgery Day

Yesterday, September 3, I had lumpectomy surgery at Lexington Medical Center in West Columbia, SC. It was a day I was both dreading and dreaming about (dreaming about the getting it overwith part, of course). Everything was scheduled to begin at 10:30, which in reality ended up being closer to 11:30, but who's counting? I'LL tell you who's counting: someone who hasn't had any food or water since midnight, like a Gremlin, that's who.

This is us in the car moments before Jon dropped me off at the imaging center (step one of many for the day). Scared = understatement. I am so thankful he was allowed to be with me because he is my rock and I would have been a basket case otherwise.

In the imaging center, they put fresh-out-of-the-dryer blankets on me (LOVE - this happened throughout the day and I never knew how much I could truly appreciate a warm blanket) and then took photos at a mammography machine where I was seated. The doctor numbed me with my old friend lidocaine and then inserted and attached a wire to the biopsy clip that had been hanging out in my breast since the first biopsy. I was like a strange robot, although I chose not to look over at the weird wire. She then used the ultrasound machine to find the spot and draw a "map" for Dr. Craft with what I think was a permanent marker. Also strange, but hey, ANYTHING THAT HELPS, amiright? They taped a styrofoam coffee cup over the wire to secure it. This was bizarre but they said it works just as well as the $99 cups the medical specialty stores sell, so I went with it. A tech wheeled me over to nuclear medicine next.

Jon had been waiting in the radiology waiting room, and I knew I would soon get to see him for about 15 minutes, so I was super happy and calm to be in this different room. The only lousy part was when a doctor injected blue radioactive dye into my nipple 4 times. Yep. I was pretty glad when that was over. The tech held my hand during this procedure and joked that she wasn't there so much to comfort me as she was to protect the doctor from getting throat punched. I soon understood what she meant, lemme tell ya.

After the dye was injected, I had to do some shoulder exercises and massage it around to make sure it traveled up to the lymph nodes before she took the pictures. She got Jon to come in so he could hang while I did that. He also got to stay for the photos. Weirdest date I hope we'll ever have, that's for sure.

Here we are right before the photos she took of the dyed tissue.

Here I am in the machine where she took two 5-minute photos of the dyed lymph nodes. This was so the doctor would be easily able to locate and remove them for the post-surgery biopsy.

Sadly, Jon and I had to go our separate ways after the photos. He took this of me as I was heading into pre-op and as he traveled to the surgical waiting room.

Pre-op was what you'd expect, I guess. I climbed onto a bed and the nurses put on my compression socks, asked me a bunch of questions, took my vitals, and inserted the IV. I got more lidocaine before the IV insertions, which was comforting. I say insertionS because the first nurse tried on my meatiest vein in my elbow and could not get it to connect. OUCH! Then, a second nurse tried and it took a long time, but this one was in the top of my hand and with more lidocaine (thank you, lidocaine) and she finally got it to take. She legit said a little prayer after she had tried for a while, and then said "Thank you, Jesus" so I knew it was finally working. I was crying at this point, not so much because of the pain, but because I was terrified about what was about to happen. Then she held my hand (she also had tears in her eyes) and prayed with me and convinced me that God had me. Nurses are as wonderful in this way as they are in applying their extensive medical knowledge. She was the exact person I needed at that exact moment.

The anesthesiologist came in next and tried to convince me in his most comforting way that I would indeed NOT die on the table. That felt better to hear and I got a little more calm at that point, after the harrowing IV experience. 

Dr. Craft was next! I loved that he came in to greet me before I was under. He joked about some things and we laughed. He told me this would be a really easy surgery and I may not even need pain medication, although he would prescribe some anyway. Then he fist-bumped me, left and said "See ya in a minute!" I reminded him he'd see me, but I wouldn't see him. I'm sure he knows what kind of crazy he is dealing with when it comes to me, but he laughs a lot and I like a doc with a sense of humor, so it's all good. 

Two anesthesia techs came in next and I asked them if they could run the "cocktail" as they called it before they wheeled me down the hallway and they were happy to oblige. That calmed me down and I was ready for anyone to cut anything off of me at that point. Sign me up! These people know what they are doing. It was a party on a gurney.

There I went, into the room where Dr. Craft would be doing his magic. I talked to the team for a while and they put the gas mask on me. That's about it. I don't even know if they asked me to count backwards from 10 - I was out.

Next thing I knew, I was being wheeled into the recovery room, where there were about 9 other well-spaced patients in various states of consciousness. I was so confused! Wasn't I about to just get surgery? I'm supposed to be in the OPERATING ROOM! So, I asked the nurse a million probably incoherent questions but finally figured out I had indeed HAD the surgery and was awake and alive! WOOT! I took a brave peek into my gown. Yep. The deed was done. She gave me water and the two most delicious graham crackers I have ever eaten in my life, and kept fussing at me to slow down or I'd get sick. But I never did. Never have with anesthesia; I guess I am one of the lucky ones there. Now, my teeth WERE chattering badly, which is a side effect I HAVE always had with anesthesia. She gave me something to help fix that (I think) and I sat there for a bit before being wheeled to the discharge room. I kept trying to convince myself this wasn't a dream.

They got Jon! I could finally see him again! The discharge nurse read all my instructions and he remembered it all. She also sent them on a paper. I remember they were both laughing at me and I wish I could remember what I was saying to them, but maybe it's all for the best that I don't. Anyway, a different nurse helped me plop into a wheelchair and by the time we got to the hospital door, Jon was waiting there in the car. Surgery/pre-op took about 90 minutes, and we had been in the hospital about 7 hours. It was TIME TO LEAVE.

This is us before the ride home, holding the teddy bear that Kim (nurse navigator) had given me when I was prepping for the wire insertion. She suggested I stick him under my armpit for the ride home, but I didn't need to because the seat belt was on the opposite side of my incisions. 

I could barely keep my eyes open once I got home and remember that I was very talkative to Grandma Cathy and Jon and the boys, but I have no clue what I was talking about. A sweet band mom brought the MOST DELICIOUS chicken and noodles. That is a perfect meal for someone who's just had surgery. Everyone else in the family enjoyed it, too. Even Ethan.

Last night before bed, Jon and I were brave enough to take a look at the incisions (one in the armpit and another in the side of the breast). They look fantastic and I am not as worried about being deformed as I was before. Thank you, Dr. Craft and team!

Today, I definitely had a newfound respect for simply waking up. That's going to be a permanent, positive, and necessary change in me, for sure. And the pain isn't bad at all. The armpit incision is annoying enough to need Percocet, but I don't think I'll need any more after this morning's dose.

I'm so very happy to have this behind me. The anxiety I've lived with for over a month is almost all gone, because this scary step is DONE. Of course, the next thing to worry about is the pathology report, but I am going to get those thoughts out of my head as soon as they pop in... no need to think about it until I get the results call (by the end of next week). After that, I have a post-surgery consult with Dr. Craft the morning of September 14.

Thank you, friends, for reading my lengthy journey. And if you're reading because you are going through something similar, I hope my transparency can help relieve you a little, as did so many of the things I read from real women going down this road.