Drugs of choice

I'm officially a week out of my surgery. Undying gratitude to all that kept me in their thoughts...you're all amazing and I love you! I'm doing well and getting stronger each day. The first few days were tough and I couldn't have done it with YOU and my medication. Therefore, I have posted a picture of them above. Take them as you need them and ween yourself off of them when you can. My docs recommend a homeopathic med for trauma and bruising called Arnica Montana that can be purchased at Whole Foods. They also wanted me on my multi-vitamin and vitamin c for my immune system. I also have the usual pain meds, antibiotics and muscle relaxer. I'm finishing up my antibody and taking my muscle relaxer as I need it. My left side is starting to spasm when I get into and out of bed and it's pretty painful. The same thing happened to me back in 06 but my doc never gave me a muscle relaxer, just pain meds. I now have both! :)

I had my awful drains removed yesterday. I go see my breast specialist today. She will go over my pathology report of the tissue they removed. It should come back clear and she found only two instances on a prophylactic surgery that wasn't. Keep your fingers crossed for me!

My kitchen is full of food people have brought over and from what my sister stocked up for me. I am very grateful but better make sure I don't pack on the pounds the next few weeks since I can't really exercise too much. :)

I'm jumping around. I went into surgery last Thursday at 7:30 am. I was in my room around 1:00. Both RJ and my sister were there when I woke up. Later on, a fellow Cowgirl came by with coconut water to help hydrate me, yum! Cara came by with beautiful flowers to brighten up my room. Many wonderful friends left me voice messages wishing me luck. I needed all that support because Thursday was tough. I still had the anesthesia in me and all the meds on an empty stomach made me very nauseated. Of course, I could not move my upper body without experiencing shooting pain. I slept off and on Thursday night.

Friday was much, much better! I felt like a new person. I got up a few times to walk around. My sister helped me change into gown a fellow Cowgirl gave me that holds the drains and buttons up on in the front and at the shoulders so I didn't have to move my arms. The running joke with all my nurses was that everyone got to see my butt hanging out of my hospital gown. Since I was more mobile on Friday, that had to change! (A nurse did tell me that I have such nice young skin...) Getting in and out of bed was tough but it gave me hope that I would not have to stay another night in the hospital. Both they were ready and I was ready to leave around 7:00 PM. The drive home was bumpy and painful but it was great being at home.

I slept in my bed and the sofa on Friday night. Getting comfortable was difficult. I've been sleeping my may makeshift sofa/bed since. It's lower to the ground and it's easier for someone to pull me out of bed.

So far my plastic surgeon filled up my expander to about my original size during my initial surgery. I'll go back in about three weeks for my first official expansion. So far so good!

Four more days until my surgery

Okay, I'm starting to get really nervous. Life has been crazy of late. Graphic kept me busy. My core beliefs and everything I thought was good was tested. Both my personal life and my work life have been transitional. I was out of town for a conference in Denver for a few days and that kept me busy. (The conference itself was good and I need to post some things I learned there.)

Throughout all this, I've realized that I have a handful of some pretty amazing friends. I have my friends of long ago and I have my new "breast cancer" nobody wanted to be in this club friends but we mind as well help take care of each other friends. My friends of long ago are keeping me in their thoughts and prayers. They're calling and checking up on me. They leave me encouraging comments on my blog site. (Thank you, it means a great deal to me!) My breast cancer friends have stocked me up on books, dvds, a post surgical gown and shower belt for my drains. (Funny combinations but they will come in handy, been there done that type of thing.)

My sister is flying in on Wednesday. My family is interesting because we've never been real close. Ironically my diagnosis and another family crisis helped create a rare bond between us. She'll be here until Monday to help take care of me. I appreciate this a great deal but it makes me nervous to have the "big sis" around again. I guess I need to get over it and just let her take care of me because she loves me.

A powerful thing Debra Jarvis said during her talk in Denver: "Cancer is a wake up call. Don't ever fall back asleep." I realize that I've taken naps along the way but I can't lose sight of how precious our lives really are.

Keep your fingers crossed & send me good vibes

It's in the books. I'm scheduled for my prophylactic mastectomy on May 22nd. This surgery feels very different. One minute I'm scared to start over and worried that I will have complications. Another minute I know I am doing the right decision because I'm being proactive with my health. It's a very drastic thing to be this proactive but I do not want to have regrets in the future if I do get a recurrence. My inconclusive genetic testing makes me feel as if I need to make my own personal decision...and I do. This decision will change my body and my future health, hopefully for the better, forever.

I haven't told a lot of people about this surgery. I guess I haven't because I've been through this already and it's my personal decision to move forth with this one. People have asked me if I there's anything that they can do. Send me good vibes. Shoot me an e-mail, text or snail mail. Feel free to call me. (It will go to my voicemail if I'm not up to talking.) I'll be at Austin Surgical Hospital for one to three nights. Feel free to drop by.

I may write again before my surgery. If I don't, I'm sure I'll do it soon after. I don't think I'll be doing too much the days following. :)

Senator Kirk Watson

On April 26th, Graphic II took place in Austin, TX. I worked a 14 hour day to make sure that event was a success. Though it didn't raise more money than last year, it made a lasting impression in many, many lives. My fellow BC sisters dared to bare themselves on the runway modeling art bras. They represented survivorship and being a fighter. We all have changed because of our diagnoses. We have learned how to appreciate life and to be a fighter.

Senator Kirk Watson was our emcee. He's absolutely amazing and such a kind soul though this bleeds near and dear to his heart. I won't do this justice but read below what he wrote. He gets it because he has been through this. Of course, it made me pretty choked up. Enjoy:

Last Saturday night, I emceed a Breast Cancer Resource Center fundraiser.

It was a bra auction. Yeah. You got it right. These women sold bras at a breast cancer deal.
Women – some fighting cancer, some survivors, and some honoring loved ones – designed "Art Bras." The bras had designer names such as "Boo" (I had to really be careful not to mispronounce that one even a little bit), "Dragonfly," "Shine On," and "Viva Vaquera." They were modeled for the crowd by members of a group called The Pink Ribbon Cowgirls, a network of young breast cancer survivors. Then the bras were auctioned off for real money that helps with the Center's services.

I had cancer. Mine was testicular. In my experience, there's a level of intimacy and openness that comes with fighting cancer. Inhibitions tend to fall away. After all, what's a body part, even a really important one, when you're fighting to live?

Losing a breast is important. It matters – a bunch. And people deal with their disease in different ways, which is perfectly OK. Whatever gets you through the day. Or week. Or that next one.

Many survivors and their loved ones have learned that a body organ, even one that's often used to define femininity (or masculinity), doesn't mean nearly as much when you're fighting just to stay around a while longer to help raise a kid. They don't worry as much about lost tissue when they're worried about whether a child will remember them if they die, or if they'll miss seeing something that more adequately defines life – like graduating, or watching a child's graduation; marrying, or seeing a child's marriage; or innumerable other pleasures, small or large, private or common, that are part of being alive and healthy.

I lost both of my parents to cancer. I survived it. And I love women who, through their irreverence, laugh in its face and, at the same time, raise money to support those fighting.