To Love and Be Loved

Yesterday I saw the plastic surgeon. He took out my surgical drains ... awesome and unbelievably painful at the same time. He then sat down and proceeded to voice all of the fine print about my procedure. As I mentioned yesterday there was some discrepancy between the plastic surgeon and the cancer surgeon regarding how much skin to remove. So my plastic surgeon reiterated that he had less skin to deal with than he had expected, and that because my chest had been irradiated, even 25 years ago, I was at a much higher risk for "problems" resulting from the tissue expansion. I asked what kind of problems and he indicated that wound healing could be much slower. At the same time he said, "If you were my wife I would have elected to do the exact same thing, I just want you to be aware of the risks." I was a little miffed that we hadn't had this conversation prior to the procedure but after really talking it through I wouldn't have done anything differently.

When I asked him what I should be concerned about he said a few things. One, previously radiated skin potentially heals much more slowly, so he wanted to wait for complete healing before beginning the expansion process. This could be as much as 2 - 3 months. Ugh. Before expansion we need the incision to be absolutely positively 100% healed.

Two, previously radiated skin may not have the elasticity needed to expand appropriately. My breast skin, however, looks very healthy and stretched very well when I was nursing all three of my daughters. We all took this as a good sign. Even the doctor. While I vividly remember horrible burns to my underarms (hence no shaving) during my radiation treatment, I don't remember any problems at all with my breast skin. They blocked out my lungs from the radiation and I think the breast skin was blocked out as part of the package, so I'm optimistic that all will be fine.

So what can I do to ensure the best results? Stay still ... sort of. There's a fine line between not wanting to stretch too much and being so sedentary that the recovery process drags on. I'm allowed to raise my arms high enough to feed myself, which I'm doing with great gusto. But I'm not allowed to raise them over my head or do anything that puts a strain on the sutures.

The doctor's going to follow me as a high risk case so I'll see him every week for the next few months. Next Tuesday he'll remove the dressing, which I'll await with great anticipation. I've got very sensitive skin and am not only reacting to the tape, but also am apparently allergic to one of the antibiotics they gave me as I've broken out in a rash all over. Because I can't lift my arms, and even if I wanted to it would hurt, I've had to enlist a team of scratchers. I remind myself of Balloo the bear in The Jungle Book when he says "I've got to find me a tree ..." and then he has a really good scratch. I've managed to identify my own forest of tree-like objects around the house. It's a good thing there aren't video cameras around!

My recovery has been tempered with the news that my mom does, in fact, have lung cancer. She'll know much more tomorrow about the treatment protocol and what happens next. The waiting has been excruciating so I'm thankful for her that at least some of the answers will be forthcoming tomorrow and she should emerge with a plan of attack. It was so wonderful to have both of my parents here as I went through the surgery. You're never too old to want your mommy and daddy, I suppose. It's both wonderful and sad that in times of family crisis you truly realize how important family is and become much more overt about expressing your love for the important people in your life. I encourage you all to say "I love you" to someone today ..., and please know that I love all of you ...