The Surgical Follow-up

I went to see the surgeon today for my one-week post-surgery checkup. I was excited and nervous because I knew that I would be getting my drain out, all the bandages off, and then going over the pathology to find out if the cancer has spread or if we got it before it did.

To be honest, I'm not sure what I was more anxious about. Just thinking about it all gave me a mild freak-out in the Doctor's waiting room but sweet Liz managed to settle me down before the lid blew. Sara is in Montana on a well-deserved vacation, so poor Liz had to endure this one all alone. She hugged me sweetly and soon it was my turn to go back to an examining room.

I was terrified that the staff or my doctor would remove my 12 inch X 5 inch dressing by ripping it off my body. After seven days of melding into my chest skin and underarm areas, that sucker was on for the duration. I went back and forth in my mind about would they, or would they not remove that bandage by ripping it off or by prying it off lovingly instead. Either way, I knew that my skin was in for a tough time as the bandage covered a very large amount of skin.

I had also had heard that the drain removal is super painful. I could feel that my drain was into me a good 6 inches, starting underneath my arm and going to the center of my left chest. I had read about both the drain removal and the tape removal on the Internet and had become very nervous about both things. (Note to self: Never read about scary things on the Internet after 3:00 p.m.)

You would think that my mind would be fully on the pathology, instead of these issues, wouldn't you? As it turned out, my surgeon came into the room and ripped that bandage from one side to another in one fell swoop before I even knew what hit me. The pain, though monumental and causing involuntary twitching, lasted only a few minutes. The surgeon who is never one for ceremony, compassion, or even words, took care of THAT issue. One down.

Next, he had me lay down on my back. He artfully distracted me with small talk while fiddling with my drain site. In the next second the stitches were cut and the drain was out with no pain. The man does not fool around. Two down.

I looked down to see what I looked like. Well, for sure my breast is gone and it is not pretty. I have a scar straight across with some skin left for my reconstruction. My friends, I don't know if I can ever get used to what is there now. It is very difficult to see, but there was no other alternative. Even though I don't like it, I have to learn to live with it. I will consider losing a breast one of my great life tragedies, but I traded it for my life and I will always stand by that decision.

Or .... did I trade my breast for my life? Maybe not. What if my cancer had just been a teeny pre-cancer? This was information that we had not known because I had two vastly different pathologies on my June biopsy, one reporting a serious cancer the other a stage 0 pre-cancer. What if I had given my breast up for a teeny pre-cancer? I had been thinking about that and the moment of truth was at hand.

The Doctor pulled out the pathology report and began. As it turns out, my surgery was "curative". Likely no need for radiation or chemo, although I now must go see the Oncologist to confirm this. My tumor was mildly estrogen positive, a condition that requires most women to take Tamoxifen for several years afterwards to control future cancer growth. The tumor itself was bigger than everybody thought. It was also a high-grade comedo type DCIS tumor. This means that it was the bad cancer, and it had been poised to become invasive.

But it didn't. And now it won't. The pathology also showed a proliferation of other calcifications which is how this cancer begins its journey. Think of them as baby pre-cancers, just a twinkle in their mother's eye at this stage, but poised to grow and mature into more cancer.

I had done the right thing after all. I followed my own intuition, fired two surgeons who wouldn't, and endured a third who just didn't care. But I did it. And, I think it's over. Mostly. Hopefully.

Love you all, I do. Jen

www.jenniferbunker.com