OMG! This could be one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made. Right up there with going to a great business school and getting a degree in child development.
Five years ago I had two surgeries for breast cancer (10 days apart). I could have followed that up fairly quickly with reconstructive surgery, but I was pretty sick of surgery by then. So I waited.
Other than clean houses and train dogs, one of the things I do for a living is board dogs. I live on 2 acres with a creek and it’s all fenced in, so it’s the perfect place for the owners of the dogs I train to leave their pups when they are out of town.
A client of mine with the cutest little pup, is a plastic surgeon. She was very helpful to me when she dropped her dog off one day and saw me wearing the sleeve that I wear for the lymphedema I developed as a side effect of my two surgeries. She taught me how to massage my arm and showed me alternative ways to move.
We talked once about reconstructive surgery a few years ago, but I still wasn’t ready. She pointed out the scars on my arm where I broke it on my first visit to Tennessee. That break required two metal plates with four screws each, to hold my bones together. The plates and screws are permanent and the scars are very noticeable.
There is something about the way I scar that is not so good; something to do with keloids. So every little scar from when I fell off my bike as a kid, got bit by a dog, or scratched by a cat, is there for all to see. I wasn’t anxious to add more.
Until last year. I hit some point where I was tired of wearing a prosthetic if I wanted to look “good”, and I didn’t like the way that when I bent over, the scar I did have in my breast turned into an unsightly crater. That bugged me more than I thought any new scars would.
I started looking into reconstructive surgery and it turned out my client who is a plastic surgeon could do it. Fantastic. I knew it was a safe procedure, I knew she was a great surgeon, and I was ok with the hospital that agreed to do it. I went online to find out what I would need to do to prepare for the surgery and what I would need for aftercare.
When I had my first two surgeries for cancer, I didn’t learn about some of the helpful aids until 6 months after the surgery. This time I wanted to be ready and prepared. Turns out there isn’t much info out there (which is why I’m working on writing a pamphlet for my surgeon), just not a whole lot of concrete useful advice.
I know now that you can’t raise your hands above your head, or bend over for quite some time after surgery; you can’t lift over 5lbs, or make any repetitive motions with your arms. The every day ramifications of that are that you need shirts that button up, slip on shoes, and stools to reach anything up high. Other things (like dog and cat food) need to be set up on top of something so you don’t have to bend over.
Anything heavy, like pet food or laundry detergent needs to be put in small containers weighing less than 5lbs. I specifically asked about my cats and it was suggested to me by the doctors staff that I have a friend take them for a month or so, I would be in danger if they jumped on me.
First, off, I don’t know anyone who would take my 4 cats for a month, and second, I don’t want to go without any of them for a month. That seems unreasonable to me. I bought a couple of pillows to cover my chest with, to absorb some of the impact when the cats did jump on me. Plus, I moved the climber away from the couch so that when they jumped on me, they did it with less momentum.
That’s all the small stuff though, the big stuff is that I wasn’t ready for was how much pain I would be in and how long it would take me to recover. I was told that I wouldn’t be able to work for 8 weeks or more and while that panicked me, some of my dear friends here at Daily Kos stepped up and wrote fundraising diaries for me so I didn’t have to worry about that part. (BIG thank you diary soon to come.)
I don’t think of myself as a normal person though, sure other people may have to take that much time off but not me, I just work through the pain. I’m very stubborn. I planned on 2 weeks of laying low, and then fun hanging out and going back to work early.
Except I wasn’t ready for this kind of pain. I woke up from surgery in such pain I was crying. That’s not normal. I have ADHD and statistics show that we injure ourselves at a higher rate than people who don’t. I’ve had a lot of surgeries, and the one good part (imo) is when you wake up, and for a bit, have an incredible buzz from whatever that drug is they give you. If they sold whatever that drug is on the streets I’d be an addict for sure.
After asking me to unclench my fist a few times, the nurse in the recovery room finally did it herself and asked why I was crying. Shivering and so tense I couldn’t unclench my fist, I told her in between sobs that it hurt. She got pretty pissed and ordered pain meds for me. She wasn’t pissed at me, she was pissed at the anesthesiologist.
That was just the start. When I went to the surgeon a few days later for a check up and bandage change I was told that for some of the pain there were no meds that could touch it, but that it would decrease in time. I got regular pain meds for the normal pain.
I didn’t plan on using them though, as I said, I usually just ignore pain. This level of pain refused to be ignored though and as a result I don’t remember much from those first 4 weeks. I don’t even remember the people who came every day to take care of me.
The only way I know for sure they were here is because Netflix keeps suggesting shows to me based on something I watched. Drugs or no, I am certain I didn’t watch robot cartoons, and no thank you Netflix, I don’t want to watch more like that.
At 8 weeks, I was cleared to go back to work. I was stunned and asked them if they knew what I did for a living. They said I was cleared for work. Oddly, I wasn’t cleared for exercise but work was fine.
So, I went back. The first day I cleaned my normal Monday house; changed 4 sets of sheets, cleaned 4 bathrooms, the kitchen and dusted, but by the time it came to the floors, I could only vacuum and mop one of the three stories in the house, about 2,000 sq. feet.
I had Tuesday off and by Wednesday I couldn’t lift my right arm at all. I was off for the rest of the week. I tried it again with the same results the next week. The week after that I tried every other day. My doctor finally admitted they had sent me back to work too soon. How on earth could I be expected to do this job after not being able to lift my arms or bend for so long? I think my muscles have atrophied. Exercises I have been doing will be included in the pamphlet I’m making for the plastic surgeon.
I was reminded of the arguments I had with my first oncologist about chemotherapy, which I politely declined. He said “sure, you can work and do chemo, no problem”. I finally asked if a farmer could do chemo and work and when he still said yes, I got another oncologist. One a little more realistic and who was fine with my not getting chemo.
My family doctor, who is a cancer survivor, also thought at that time that I could work and get chemo, she had done it. A few years later, she got cancer again, this time breast cancer, and got a different kind of chemo. She tried to go back to work and couldn’t, not while getting chemo. It was then she admitted to me that I never would have been able to clean houses while getting chemo.
She is also in agreement with the surgeon, that I’ve gone back to work too soon. My mortgage company disagrees though, and wants me back at work and making house payments. I think that with the proper prep work, I could have been ready to go to work sooner. I’ve been doing exercises that simulate what I do, just without the weight or pressure of when I actually do those tasks. Starting those exercises weeks ago would have helped a lot, which is why I’m so intent on writing a pamphlet so maybe people don’t have to go through what I have.
Knowing all that I do now, would I still have had the surgery done? Umm… I really don’t think so, though I will say that for the first time since my cancer diagnosis, I don’t feel deformed anymore.
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