So, Its been two weeks now since my surgery and, though I'm still feeling the effects, i.e. soreness, I am very happy to have it all behind me. It took only one day to get the pathology results back. The biopsy came back benign- no cancer! Big sigh of relief, not only for me but for the medical professionals who now no longer have to deal with me.
I discovered along with all those medical persons, two weeks ago, that I am a really awful patient. I arrived at the hospital at 7:45 am, virtually exhausted from not being able to sleep the night before. The poor Nursing assistant that was assigned to me was met with a very big attitude when she instructed me on what it was I had to do before the procedure could begin. She told me to change into the hospital gown and to make sure that I took my underwear off as well as my bra, to which I simply and firmly asked why I should have to take my underwear off when its the top part they'd be operating on. She had no real good answer to that except to say that if they should need access to that part of my body quickly, the underwear would be in the way. To that I gave an even nastier reply,
"Why the hell do they need access to my butt!"
Fortunately she laughed it off. But she left and never returned.
Next, I terrorized the nurse, who happened to be male. I told him I would not give him a urine sample until someone cleaned the bathroom in my room. He was very sweet. He came in with a bottle of bleach and a rag and scrubbed my toilet himself. I kind of felt guilty at that point, but not guilty enough. I demanded to see my surgeon before signing any release forms.
I was a sobbing, anxiety ridden mess by the time the surgeon finally came in. She was not much comfort. I asked her to tell me what I would look like when all this was said and done. She told me I would have a scar but no visible indentation. I told her I didn't really buy that and asked if I could just have the needle biopsy done instead. She told me I could, but that she strongly advised getting the lumpectomy. That just turned my fear away from my vanity and toward the possibility of cancer, which I think was her intention. The surgeon explained the procedure again, this time, adding that she would remove a chunk of tissue the size of a golf ball. A GOLF BALL.
"Lady, have you seen my boobs?" I cried. "They pretty much are golf balls!"
She laughed.
I was unamused.
In the end, with the surgeon's strong advice and extensive knowledge of these breast tumors, and my poor husband, distraught with the idea of me not doing the surgery and possibly leaving a malignant tumor in my body, I accepted what I had to do and allowed them to take me off to the OR.
Nate's last word's to me were, that he loved me more than anything and that if I'm not at all happy with the outcome of this surgery, that he would see to it that I get plastic surgery right away. He then added,
"Hey this could be your excuse to get those C cups you've always wanted."
The outcome is livable. I no longer have a lump in my breast that could grow or cause pain or turn into something weird. I have a small scar and no visible dimpling. I'm glad to be done with it, and I thank God it was nothing more than a lump.
I have a much larger appreciation for the kind of emotional and physical pain a cancer patient must go through. I feel blessed and a little guilty I made it out without cancer. I just think God knows I'm not brave enough to suffer that kind of thing and took pity on me. I am in awe of those who are brave and battle their illness full on. God bless you all.
