Home From the Hospital and Doing Great

Thanks so much to everybody who called, emailed, and brought flowers and cute teddy bears. I don't know what I would have done without my sisterhood through this.

I am back, one boob short of when I left. My family jokes that maybe I lost a pound (due to my famously small breasts). Jeepers, everybody's a comedian!

Like all my hospital stays I had a great experience. What's not to like? Nice nurses bring you warm blankets and keep you from barfing after surgery. They are kind and sweet and even reminded Sara why she once wanted to be a nurse.

I have had literally NO PAIN at all. We don't know why, but I did not need my pain meds in the hospital nor have I needed to take any percoset at home. I am taking 2 Tylenol for swelling and that is it. Why a person would have an 8 inch gash/amputation and not feel pain is beyond me. I have loads of energy and I feel great. I even managed a shower this morning.

My boobless area is bandaged tight. I see the surgeon next Thursday to get that off. That will be a low moment, but was the right choice.

I woke up in the hospital and realized with a start .... I am free of cancer. I won, you dirty bastard! Even if I had to give you a boob to do it!

(Actually, that is hopeful thinking, because we really won't know if the cancer was invasive until the I get the pathology back sometime next week. If it was invasive, we are talking a whole other ballgame. But we'll talk it then, not now. Today, in my mind, I am free of cancer.)

So, here's the details of my surgery, if you are interested. If not, you are done here. :-)

What strong woman doesn't have strong women behind her? Liz and Sara postponed their lives to be with me through 18 doctor's office visits and one mastectomy. They prepared my home before I left, secured any doggies and kitties and made me one heck of a hospital basket of soft comforting goodies. Precious adorable Josh has been checking in when he can even through the excess of estrogen and emotion. He is to be commended for his continued love and support. Love you, son.

I headed off for surgery at 7:15 a.m. on Thursday. With entourage and many pillows in tow, I arrived resigned and ready to get on with it. They checked me in and gave me the world's worst hospital gown along with the poofy hat. I didn't don the hat out of defiance and they let me get away with it, for a while. The girls toddled along behind my bed as I was pushed around the hospital to my various stations. (Note: They push you through the halls where regular people are walking. I would have been mortified to see someone I know!)

My first stop was to have radio active dye injected into my breast. This is done to check the sentinel modes for any cancer. The dye is injected, then you must wait two hours before it makes its way to the nodes. You are totally radioactive and that time, which is worrisome. Once the dye "seeps" to the right place, the surgeon uses a Geiger counter while in surgery to test the nodes. Because this kind of cancer attracts the radiation molecules, if there is cancer in a node, the Geiger counter will find it and then the surgeon removes it. I probably didn't explain that right, but anyway, I waited my two hours with my faithful servants, and finally it was my time for surgery.

I liked my anesthesiologist who listened carefully to my heart issues and made the appropriate notes. A resident who told me he was just finishing up medical school then rolled me into the operating room. On the way, he told me I was going to get the best "margarita" ever and that it would make it so that I just didn't care any more. He was right, I saw the stark white of the operating room and everybody in masks, but I just didn't care. They asked me to move myself to the operating table, which I happily did. Then, the best part ever ... I just went black.

In previous operations I had to play the game ... "Now count backwards from 100 ... here we go ..." That's when you know you are going out and it causes such anxiety in those two seconds before you go. This time, the wonderful med student simply filled my IV with the juice and didn't say anything as he did it. Bless his heart for that.

The surgery took 2 hours and then (for reasons we don't know yet) I was in recovery for two hours longer than we expected. This caused the girls some anxiety as somebody had told them I would be in my room shortly, but I then didn't show up for several hours. However, I woke up feeling fine in the recovery room and and had no pain at all. They wheeled me to my room where my nannies were waiting for me.

I immediately had the best nurse in the world, a guy who asked me if I felt nauseous (I did) and did I need some meds (I did). He took care of my and though I was dozy I noted that he talked at length with my girls and answered their questions. He was kind and sweet and that means a lot.

The rest for me was a lot of napping. Josh visited later that day which is a big deal for him as he hates hospitals. I had low blood pressure issues, 88/50 through the night along with a high heartbeat. It was concerning but the nurses kept a good eye on it all while I dozed. I slept all night long and woke up already to go around 7 a.m. I never saw or talked to my surgeon even though I asked all day long to talk to him. That is how they roll in Utah, and it is kinda sad. But, he did what I hired him to do and I guess that is okay enough.

I have a drain which is such a drag and kinda gross. I will get that out on Thursday. I'm already anxious to go to the nice ladies at the one-boobie-bra store and see what they can fix me up with. I just feel ready to get back to my life.

I need strong prayers that my pathology shows the cancer was not invasive. Then, I need prayers that my insurance will not be any more mean to me than they already have been. Then, I need my clients to call me cause I am ready to get back to work.

Thanks AGAIN, there are no words to describe how much your support means to me and my kids.

Love (the one pound lighter) Jen

www.jenniferbunker.com