I was admitted for my risk reducing mastectomy and expander reconstruction on Tuesday morning, my 35th birthday! I was becoming fairly nervous but managed to get 5 hours sleep the night before. The hospital prescribed “pre-load” to drink before the op; a carb-heavy drink that helps your body cope with surgery by providing a big dose of energy. I stuck some straws and fruit in it and pretended it was a cocktail…..!
Jon and I were up by 5.30am to drive to the hospital. When we got there, we were in the pre-op ward with other patients, being given the lovely super sexy compression socks and gown combo. It was nerve racking waiting for the surgeon and for everything to happen. My main concern was that I wouldn’t wake up from the anaesthetic!
The anaesthetist met me before the surgeon and described her plans. Then Tracy’s assistant surgeon popped in and began drawing on my chest. She was concerned (!) I’d lost some weight since my last hospital visit in March….
Minutes later, Tracey swooped in and took over. She confirmed that due to weight loss, they would have to use strattice (pig skin implant) to assist with the reconstruction - which was fine by me, I was always aware it may be a necessity.
After this, the anaesthetist popped in again and advised she would be giving me a spinal block to assist with post surgery pain relief. And then, after this, all go! I was wheeled out of the ward in my bed and taken to various “holding bays”. Then to the anaesthetic room where my anaesthetist and another specialist put a line in me, gave me some relaxant and did the spinal. After the spinal, they must have given me the general as I remember nothing more….
1.30pm ish - I am woken. I remember feeling pretty angry to be woken - I felt like I was having a nice rest! And it was a sudden wake up - and I wondered where on earth I was. And then I remembered. And then - I felt … PAIN …. lots of PAIN …. not from my chest but my arm. And I was shaking my head left and right and asking what they’d done to my arm …. and the morphine was being administered - but it was not helping. Then the nurses discovered they must have hit a nerve when they put one of the lines in - line came out - things improved.
I was moved up to Elstead ward and wheeled into a small room with 6 other beds. Amazing countryside view, right next to the window. Only to be told that “I couldn’t be next to a window” (tracey’s orders). So I left the welcoming room and was put in another, right next to the nurses station. A hub of activity!
I was offered plenty of water and toast - and encouraged to eat as soon as possible. No one warned swallowing may be an issue….and I spent a good few minutes half gagging, wondering if I was about to choke as little pieces of toast just sat in my throat. Decided to wait on eating a little longer!
5pm ish, Tracey popped round, describing the operation as a success and reminding me what a fab thing I’d done on my birthday. Ha. Ha. Ha. Wasn’t feeling it right at that moment.
I spent 2 nights in Elstead ward and that was enough. It wasn’t unpleasant surroundings - but it was enough. The first night I was wrapped up in a blanket and forbidden to move from the bed due to the spinal. I needed to wee - I’d been making sure i drank - and I was given the bedpan. Therein followed a series of disasters through the night - needing to wee, not able to wee, trying for ages, not being able to sleep because I needed to, then at some point later evening….I weed! but all over the bed. I had a male HCA looking after me and him and another nurse had to change me and the bed. I was mortified - the lowest amount of dignity I have ever experienced. Sitting on the commode the following morning was an ecstatic moment!
24 hours after, I peeped at my chest area. I didn’t know how I would react but actually better than expected. Sitting up in bed, my first thought was how light I felt, a novel feeling - my breastfeeding boobs were frequently heavy. It wasn’t unpleasant. I wondered whether I would become an olympic runner, I felt so streamlined and free!
I discovered in the 2 days at hospital that I felt like I could conquer the world in the mornings….and awful by the afternoon, with overwhelming nausea (occasional vomiting), and exhaustion. Made a note to do fun things in the morning and crash in the afternoon.
The other ladies on the ward were brilliant….we all trooped on together, encouraging each other when one started to feel ropey. Most ladies there had cancer and had either had exploratory or tumour removing ops and I was amazed at how positive so many of them were. When you’re on a ward you hear their stories, you hear what the doctors are saying, and you feel like you know their medical history and prognosis fairly well! No issue is taboo. Everyone knows about everyones toilet issues!!!
It was another helpful reminder that I am so privileged to be on a preventative journey. I hope more people become aware of their risks and are able to be proactive throughout their lives. No one wants to be in the position many of the other ladies were in.
I seriously doubted my ability to leave 2 days out of surgery - 2 hours before my discharge Ana (one of the lovely nurses) was still pumping me full of anti-nausea medication as I felt awful. Ana also helped me remove some of my surgery dressings. She was SO patient. I was relieved to get dressed after, and it was when I put on my cardi and looked in the mirror I realised although flat felt physically good, I didn’t like the way it looked. Thankfully Helen (breast care nurse) arrived an hour before I left and found some fake cleavage for me. I’m a bit worried it makes me look like a rather pert 20 year old - and the possibility for “wardrobe malfunction” is tremendous - nevertheless I am grateful for my “softies”.
I was both worried and relieved about going home. I was worried the children may find it hard to see me unwell, resting a lot, with 4 drains poking out of my gown. I was worried Jon may not be able to cope looking after me and the children. I was relieved at the prospect of my own bed, my own food and seeing my family.
Turns out the children were brilliant - they’ve been, on the whole, very gentle. After a day at home I’ve now explained to Hope about the drains and she’s more curious than anything. She doesn’t like that the bag gets in the way of cuddles but we’ve worked around it! Ellie, being 3, remains full on - expecting me to get down, play and be mummy. I’m so glad hubby is at home full time to help for 2 weeks and that people have been taking them out for us.
Bed is wondrous but it is hard to find a comfy point. I’m currently typing this with 3 behind me, 2 under my legs, leaning vaguely sideways. I’m aware this may continue for a while!
