Bald Barren And Boobless

An honest and comical reflection of my journey through breast cancer

Tag: pain (page 3 of 3)

Yay! It’s Chemotherapy day!!! Part 1

October 1, 2014 / / 1 Comment

ImageDid you know how toxic Chemotherapy is? Did you know that 9 out of 10 American Oncologists would refuse chemotherapy if they had cancer? That’s up to 91% — a huge percentage that clearly shines a light on the truth: chemotherapy kills. www.cureyourowncancer.org

I wake after a very broken sleep, and realise a sharp reality “Yay! It’s chemo day!!” I pack a bag of goodies; they tell you to take snacks, medication, questions and things to keep you busy. I took some healthy snacks, music, some books and a blanket so I was comfy.

On the way Marc shows me a picture of a puppy he saw in the pet store a few days ago, it is a mini pin (Miniature Pinscher or Doberman) just like our lovely old dog Benjamin. You don’t see them in pet stores very often. He captions the pic with “Please will you love me?” and sends it to the kids.

I think she (the pup) is gorgeous and immediately begin to want to get her and have her all for myself. I go into lengthy justifications as to why it would be a good idea as I will need company and someone/thing to love whilst recuperating, plus I have the time to train her. Yadda yadda – I’m sold…… Now to convince Marc.

We leave in the car towards a total unknown; the car ride is eerily quiet. I play one of my favourite songs by Kari Jobe called “Steady my Heart” with beautiful words about the challenges of life, and leaning onto our Almighty Comforter to get rest. She sings “I’m not gonna worry, I know that you’ve got me right inside the palm of your hand.”  I find my eyes welling up with the anxiety of today and the thankfulness I have that God is with me for every step.

We arrive and don’t wait for too long before our Oncology Nurse “Justin” takes us in to our armchair of destruction. Justin is really relaxed and lovely, he is very aware of how anxious we are and he did well to make us feel more comfortable. He explained everything, answering our enormous list of questions. We take some pictures of me with my new look, the ice gloves. This is to protect your fingernails from falling off due to the toxic effects of the treatment.

He inserts the Cannula and sets up the bag. He leaves me to relax and I begin to feel a headache coming on. I am trying not to imagine the toxin entering my body. My arm even begins to burn at the site of the cannula and up my arm.  I have been told to imagine it as healing light. However, I am struggling with this.  I feel fear erin to grip me.

Justin returns to put another bag up, I ask him what it is and he says, “Oh the treatment is about to start.” I’m am shocked and ask what has been entering my body already, he explains “ Only saline!!”

Oh my, the power of the mind! What a powerful lesson!  So as I am smacked between the eyes with my own over reaction I determine to settle in and get this first treatment done and done well. As the famous quote says : “Whether you think you can or you think you can’t you’re right.

It’s all too draining

August 27, 2014 / / 0 Comments

quotes1Saturday  7th  December

Marc and Monica go to South Australia for the weekend. I am home with Sam for the weekend, I thought no problem I won’t be doing much. On the first morning that they are away I am innocently in the bathroom having a wash.

All of a sudden I notice that there is a strange sound. As I am standing there I notice that the length of drain that was inside my chest has fallen onto the floor! I didn’t really feel anything. But I am looking at this thin king “now what do I do?”

I guess it wants to come out; I am not sure what to do? I call my sister who is a medical professional, she is always great for advice, she does not answer, Marc is in mid air, I can’t put it back in, I decide to call the nurse. They say they will be there asap, they come 2 hours later. I have put a dressing over the top as it is oozing, lovely!

I am skipping about the house as much as a one boobed sore woman can skip, trying not to panic. I am sure I look like an epileptic cockroach. Oh well Sam is sleeping in so there in no audience.

The nurse arrives, she is calm so then I begin to calm down too. The drain is out, the dressing is removed from my chest. I must say it is freaking me out, the scar is healing well but it looks like the 2 edges of skin are just resting together and can open any time. I begin to have these visions of the flesh parting, it’s horrible.

My wound is so sore, I thought they said when the drain comes out I will feel better I am just as sore if not sorer. It may be due to all of my jumping about previously in a panic.  With time, as the drain pain lessens, I can move a bit more freely without the bag attached to me.  I no longer look like a lost librarian with my shoulder bag.  I feel like I am beginning to make some progress.  Yippee!

 

 

Adjustment, my new favourite word…..

August 21, 2014 / / 0 Comments

hands-held-tight

Monday the 2nd December 2013

I am home, which is so nice but also weird. I am such a carer, I like to look after people, so being in the reversed role is not easy. I know it is a gift for others to allow them to care for me and that it is selfish to not share that role. So I am trying.

I remember when my Mum was in the final stages of her disease and the cancer had progressed to her bones and organs she needed 24 hour care. As a family we all rallied as much as we could and looked after her at home. Well, to be specific she moved in with one of my sisters and we did our best to support my sister. Obviously, most of the care fell on this one sister, until mum was in the final stages and we were all there together.

My Mum fought this care, she too was a carer and she did not allow us to care for her. This broke most of our hearts, as we just wanted so desperately to care for her as she has so lovingly cared for us growing up. She struggled and in many ways became frustrated, as she was less able to do things for herself.   This translated into so much tension for her as we tried desperately to love and look after her. Fighting about something like this was the last thing any of us needed.

So seeing this battle and feeling it on the receiving end, I do not want to be the same I want to allow others to care for me when I need it. It is not easy it does not come naturally to me at all. I learned from my Mum to care for others, not to receive.  She taught me well, actually she taught all of her girls well.

My Mum would not ever ask for help, she walked on a fractured hip for weeks before the Doctor would even Xray it for her. I remember him saying to her, “if it was broken there is no way you’d be walking!”   He did not know my Mum hey!

So I am adjusting to asking for help, even getting out of the chair is hard; my chest is just so sore. The unexpected pain is the drain site. The drain is through my chest and into the space where the tissue was removed from my breast. There is about 0.5 cm of tubing wound up and around my chest. There is a bag attached and each day a Community Nurse comes and measure the fluid makes sure there is no infection and drains the bag.

The drain it self is so sore at the site of the entry into my chest. The nurses refer to it as “drain pain.” Apparently at times the drain can push on or aggravate nerves, this causes a burning pain that is hard to describe. This is the worst part so far, it is so painful there are times where I am afraid to move because it is like a hot knife in my side. They say it will be in for at least 2 weeks – too much fun!

I am propped up in bed at night unable to sleep well; I am a stomach or side sleeper so this is not acceptable. When I do sleep it is due to pure exhaustion. Sleeping pills anyone? I have a few to play with, most of them get me to sleep but I wake up at inhumane hours and then watch night time TV, which is scary.

I have woken poor Marc so excited about steam mops and all kinds of gadgets, selling him all of the benefits that have been drummed into my subconscious through the wee hours. You are so vulnerable at this time of day! Marc is thinking, “hide the credit cards!!”

It’s quite worrying really, how many people fall prey to this unrelenting marketing when they are at their weakest. Perhaps I should start a group called “Home shoppers anonymous” “Hi My name is Kylie, I shop at 2am from my darkened bedroom whilst wearing a snuggy purchased through this very shopping method.”

Surely I am not alone, am I?

 

 

Something’s Gotta Give

August 18, 2014 / / 0 Comments

breaking-point

Friday 29th November

So it is the day after my mastectomy.  I am sore, my chest is hard to see because of the dressing but the place where my right breast should be is a concave weird place. You think that without a breast you will look like a man, but you look hollow, almost dug out. It is weird to look at myself, hollow one sided chest and black eye, what a sight!!

Marc brings Samuel into see me today, he has to drag him in as he is frightened of what he may see. He is surprised to see that I still look like his Mum. Bad hair, drawn face but still his Mum. They need to get off to their days of school and work  so they leave me to rest.

I decide to write to the GP who would not support me in my search for answers. I decide that something needs to be said. I wonder how many others have been stifled or not pursued treatment after such a negative response. I could have so easily not pursued things with another Doctor. After all what if I was just being a whiner?   Despite feeling so bad sometimes you lie to yourself and tell yourself it’s not worth pushing, after all it is probably nothing, you just need to toughen up princess.

Have you ever discounted yourself like that? I know I have for a very long time. I think it’s part of the process that we go through at times when life gets busy and we start to lose ourselves. Particularly, those of us who have many roles. Here I am Kylie the Mum, Wife, Step mum, Business owner x 2, Sister, Friend, Colleague. I know most women who have had children can begin to lose their identity. I think its because we just get used to putting everyone else’s needs before our own. I mean in our house even the pets get fed before I do.

But this will need to change, I am realising that whilst there is a big part of this situation for me that is genetic, there is also a big part that relates to lifestyle I am sure. I have been putting myself last for a long time, not taking time for my self or care of myself. The funny thing is that no one asked me, or even expected me to, I just did it. Like being a good Mum and Wife means you come last.  Where does that message come from?

Again, my kids or Husband never said this to me, I just allowed it to happen. I passively stood by and decided that what I wanted or needed didn’t matter. How did I end up here?

It made me think back to earlier this year when I was asked by a Counsellor “what makes you happy?” When she asked me I sat there dumb founded thinking I have no idea, I burst into tears because it hit me just how sad that was. The worse thing is I am not the only loser here, so is anyone close to me. They don’t get the best of me either, just the chewed up spat out version.

So laying in a hospital bed, I have much time to think about my future and to think about how differently I am going to live my life. I only get one crack, I have much to offer and much more I wish to achieve in this short adventure on planet earth.

I decide I want to do life laughing, running, having a ball rather than depressed, run down and dragging my feet. So things will change, I will need to prioritise both my physical and emotional health. In doing this I will be able to be there for those special people in my world.

How this change is going to happen is another story and I am sure will be a long and evolving process.

 

 

 

It’s cut off day

August 11, 2014 / / 0 Comments

fearless quote Thursday 28th November 2013

Surgery day has arrived very quickly! We arrive at St George Private Hospital by 6am. We get all booked in and fill in all the paperwork. I have been nil by mouth since midnight.

The first “procedure” of the day is to have radioactive isotope injected at 9am. This is to see if any cancer has travelled out of the breast to the lymph nodes. It is a fairly new procedure so I am glad I get access to this new technology so to speak.

We meet another lovely lady and her family in the waiting room. She is there also to have the same procedure for a lumpectomy today. You can just see the fear on her face. Poor love. We make small talk and try to act like everything is going to be ok.

My lovely man Marc is with me every step of the way. Any one who knows us knows we cope with life through humour and lots of it. The poor technician that takes some images of me is very straight laced. Marc is trying to make him laugh and he is almost tripping over himself just to get out of the room more quickly. I am laughing so hard for a moment I forget what I am at the hospital for.

The injection of the radioactive substance really hurts but it only lasts a little while. This will trace the pathway from the breast to the lymph nodes so they can be biopsied and tested for cancer. I am then escorted back to the preparation area for surgery. I wear what I think is my most comfy mastectomy undies only to be told they are made of the wrong fabric and I need to wear these ridiculous paper ones. So uncomfortable, honestly there is no end to the embarrassment you experience.

The Breast care nurse comes by, she is lovely and makes me feel really at ease. She explains that I will receive some support regarding a prosthesis after the surgery and also receive support at home post surgery due to the drains I will have in place.  She also tells me I will get a soft prosthesis and a bra to wear after surgery.

The anaesthetist comes by and I feel like he has stepped of the set of mad men, he looks like he is right out of the 1960’s. A lovely man, funny, happy to chat, I am glad for the distraction to be honest. Its getting near 12 and I still haven’t gone in for surgery. I am becoming really thirsty and agitated, lets get the ball rolling people!!!

I finally go in for the surgery at 1pm. I get the smooth talking South American orderly who is as smooth as silk. He is wheeling me along and says in his smooth accent “So what is Santa Claus going to get you for Christmas?” Without even thinking is say “Breast cancer how about you?” Poor guy, does not have an answer for that and I am far too focused on the next part of my day to apologise.  I didn’t mean to sound nasty that is my bald sense of humour at times.

I am aware that I am awake and back in room by 5pm, I feel sore but ok.  I have a dressing on my right side chest and a drain coming from the right chest wall as well as a PCA for pain. At the push of a button I can get pain relief. Marc is there when I wake up which is nice. He has to leave at dinnertime so that the kids get fed, and I settle in for a quiet evening.

By 10pm I have the nurses encouraging me to get out of bed and use the toilet. This is not easy, it is very painful to move and I am not able to go. We realise pretty soon after a few attempts that it is more about performance anxiety than a surgical complication. PHEW!! I sneak to the loo by myself and am able to go, then tell the nurse that all is well.

Then at about 1030 the anaesthetist comes and says “hello.” What an unexpected and lovely surprise. After some routine small talk, he asks “so do you remember anything during the procedure?” I answer, “No should I?” He responds with a weird, “Nooo”.   He then vanishes into the night.

After he has left I look in the mirror and notice that I have a black eye!!! What on earth happened in that operating room?  As I lay there, laughing to myself,  pondering the endless possibilities I drift off into a broken sleep, first day after my mastectomy, I have survived, in fact I did quite well, I wonder what tomorrow will bring?

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