Day After Surgery in Here Be Dust

I posted this as my Facebook status earlier today:

Home and mending! M and I both earned our Tough Old Broad merit badges (this needs to be a thing). Many thanks to the Citrus Memorial Health System staff and volunteers for taking very good care of both of us. Thanks also to Russell at AAA Transportation for his patience and flexibility in waiting for us, because my BP refused to climb. Staff made sure I was asymptomatic before they let me go. I said, "Fitness'll do that to ya." My tumor was removed with clear margins (very good news); lymph node pathology report should be in when I have my post-op appointment next week, day TBD. Thanks for the awesome prayers, healing vibes, and mojo, everyone! <3 <3 <3

I'm moving pretty slowly and dealing with a fair degree of soreness, though not a lot of pain. My chest sports the latest in Bride of Frankenstein Couture, but Dr. C did a great job. Time and reduced swelling will tell, but I suspect my shape hasn't changed all that much. Given my other scars, I'm pretty blase about that.

What was promised to be a long day became that much longer, due to:
1. Early pick-up (going in, we shared the cab with another passenger who had to get to the airport);
2. Surgery delay of 45 minutes because the guy ahead of me took longer than expected;
3. My body's stubborn insistence on keeping my blood pressure low; and
4. An extra stop at CVS to drop off a Rx for percoset (which I probably won't need), because the Walgreens staffer who does bedside Rx service for the hospital is on vacation.

Hospital staff was tremendous. M brought her food arsenal wth her (muesli, salt, magnesium, water bottle), which barely got her through our 12 hours spent at same-day surgery. Staff also gave her coffee and a warm blanket and she had her own lounger in the prep/recovery room. A patient liaison kept us both informed. I also got warm blankets and then the freakin' awesome Bair Paws, which provided a constant heat source. And we had the great nature scenes/ambient music C.A.R.E. channel, which was perfect.

My lack of sleep the night before and our early pickup meant that M and I got to the hospital in plenty of time. That let me really relax prior to all the prep, which helped tremendously. Sleep deficit was great for putting a damper on any anxiety I had, because I was at the point where I was just too tired to get worked up.

I'd been warned about the lymphosinctigraphy shots, which is where I was injected with radioactive tracer to zoom in on my sentinel lymph nodes. The lymph nodes (four in my case) were removed and will be biopsied to see if the cancer has spread. I should have those results by the time of my post-op visit in eight days.

Four nodes meant four shots. The nuclear medicine guy apologized for the pain, which couldn't be helped -- I said, "I'll just make a face." The first shot was painful but manageable, the second shot was less painful, and the third and fourth shots were like a walk in the park in comparison. I then had to massage my breast for 20 minutes, followed by holding still for three different angled imaging sessions that each lasted a fair amount of time. All in all the procedure took about an hour.

Nuclear medicine guy was doing the procedure on two of us simultaneously. During the imaging he was literally running from me to the other patient and back. He made sure to keep all the details straight. His bedside manner reminded me of The Doctor from Star Trek: Voyager, but I could tell he cared a lot about what he was doing and about his patients. I felt both safe and somewhat entertained.

M was a real trooper through it all. She admitted to tearing up a couple of times, but for the most part she was able to keep her high anxiety in check. I had given a memo to the staff when I checked in, asking that they keep her comfortable as much as possible. All things considered, she really came through yesterday.

My surgery lasted a couple of hours. Last Friday my pre-op had included an electrocardiogram, which the anesthesiologist told me was "rock-solid normal."

The anesthesia knocked me out lightning fast. I remember being wheeled out of the prep room and maybe a few feet down the hallway; the next thing I knew I was in a recovery room attended by two people, one of whom fed me an occasional ice chip. On a scale of 1-10, my pain level came in at an 8, which they reduced in time to between 2 and 3 before I was moved back to my own prep (now recovery) room.

There I was able to start with a bit of ginger ale and then graduated to graham crackers. I'd had nothing to eat or drink since midnight the night before, so those crackers tasted orgasmically good. From here on in we waited for my vitals to stabilize.

My BP on entrance had been something like 111 over 60-something. That's generally considered low, but it's not unusual for me during my periods of fitness. Technically my discharge should happen when my BP is within 10 percent of what it had been at entrance.

My body had other ideas.

I lost count of the number of BP readings taken. For the most part my numbers refused to budge. Not having heard from us, our cabbie called the hospital, himself. Then he was left waiting while I felt like a little kid on a long drive: "Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?"

After it was determined that I had been asymptomatic during the final few readings (e.g., no dizziness), I was discharged with a BP of 79/42. My pulse was 54 bpm, respiration 16 breaths/minute. I'm mellow. :-)

During recovery I also noticed that my drive to nap competed with my need to breathe. I had no difficulty breathing at all, but I was more conscious of making sure I breathed deeply enough. I assume that was a leftover from the anesthesia (propophol, fentanyl, and some other drugs I don't remember). That gave me an added perspective on Michael Jackson's death -- as in, Holy crap, no wonder.

Dr. C stopped in to let me know that my margins were clear (excellent news). Radiation treatments should start in about a month; fortunately, the center where they're held is only a few miles from me.

After M and I got home, we both collapsed into bed. Another way my fitness helps is that I can use my abs to lever myself up, since I need to be delicate with my left arm. I'll be taking it easy for a while, but in general my strength is returning very nicely. The percoset hasn't been picked up from CVS yet, and I haven't even had to take ibuprofen. :-)

(Above: Flowers from M's sister, plus the mug from my friend K.)