DONE!

He blanket lesson and statement that I can claim and own is that the FEAR of surgery was so much greater than surgery itself.


Here I am breastless and happy – and pain free. The worst complication I have had this past week was actually with my pain medications.... so where do I begin?

Friday, January 8th – the morning of the surgery. I was scared, and as I arrived at 6:30 for my 8 am surgery I sat there and knew my life would never be the same. There was never a doubt in my mind though and I knew I was doing the right thing. I found comfort in that simple fact. I was pleased that my conscious had reached this level of acceptance. I can not stress enough to anyone reading this , if you yourself are contemplating surgery or even genetic testing, you need to be ready for it - on your own time, your own agenda. One of my wonderful members of my support group said to me once “The worst thing you can do is have surgery when you are not ready. You may end up with regret. More importantly you will not be able to deal with possible complications” Words that I remember and pass on to you that I hope assists others on their journey.

The biggest hiccup was 7:55am -...5 minutes to surgery as I sat outside the O.R. One of my biggest of not the most important wishes I had throughout was a thoracic block. This procedure was something I advocated for for a number of months including discussions with my plastic surgeon, general surgeon, and an interview with an anaesthesiologist. They all told me that the bock would not be an issue. Well with the clock ticking down I had to fight and beg and stop surgery for the procedure. The reasoning I was told that the risk was too high for a bilateral mastectomy. My reasoning was simple – pain management. There is a clear line in my experience that can be drawn between those who have the block and those who do not. The level of pain experience by those who have had the block is much lower. My pain was minimal and already I am not on anything except for Advil at night.

The weight, the dread, wow – the minute I woke up was all gone. The nurses kept referring to me ‘Sleeping Beauty’ - it took me forever to wake...6 hours. Finally they poked me a few times and said they either admit me or shake me up a bit. A trip to the bathroom and ginger ale shook me enough, that in addition to the wish to get home back to bed. The trip home, like many will say, very long and uncomfortable...

But here I am – done. Thrilled!