Melancholy Booby

Melancholy Booby

By Kathy Reschini Sweeney, teller of boob truths

It has been one week since the surgeon declared me cancer free and about ten days since my surgery.  In the life of a people who have a hard time with the concepts of both patience and moderation, this is an eternity.

So no surprise that I ended up in bed, on pain meds yesterday.  It is totally my fault.  I over did it - more than once - and I did not ask for (or accept) help.  Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa.  

Today's blog is,  therefore, a cautionary tale.  When your surgeon, a woman of skill and trust, tells you that you need to layoff any strenuous activity - no pushing, pulling, blah blah of more than 5 pounds for at least two weeks, and no return to regular activities for four weeks, you should listen.

You should not assume that since the anesthesia as described is similar to a root canal, that the procedure is the same.  You should not assume that since the surgery was outpatient and you had your wits about you when you left, that it is similar to - say, an eye exam where they blow up your pupils and you cannot see for a few hours.  In addition, you should not assume that since you took the bandages off in 48 hours, you can resume to normal clothing choices at the same time.  That would be absurd and only an idiot would come to those conclusions.  Ahem.

This shit is serious.  I am an  intelligent person.  I researched this entire process. I understand exactly what the surgeon did and how much of a divot was removed (that's right, I called and got the exact amount).   I talked to pink warriors.  I thought I listened.  And then my subconscious mind promptly decided that  - perhaps as a coping mechanism - none of those things translated to a need to modify my regular routine.  I acknowledge that I should be docked several IQ points for this, and will take it up with my subconscious later.

I am also bigger than I used to be, thus the falls are harder.  Normally, I just break a toe.  This was more like a roundhouse kick to my own chest, which I'll bet not even Chuck Norris can do.  (Oh Chuck Norris, why do you have to get involved in politics when you are otherwise the greatest source of humorous homages?  I mean, how else could one say: "Superman wears Chuck Norris pajamas" or "Chuck Norris does not sleep- he waits.")

No real damage done, just a day of doing as little as possible and taking pain meds.  Neither of which top my list of ways to spend a Friday.  One of the reasons why is that it provides the perfect opportunity for my conscious brain to realize that the dark cloud of depression is lurking right outside, looking for a way in.

For example, a week post-op, I decided it was time to start wearing regular bras.  For those of you without boobs, trust me when I say that the entire bra culture is a maze of numbers and letters and fabrics and metal and plastic.  The quest for the perfect bra is not for the faint of heart (or anything else) and some day I may do an entire blog on it.  

Suffice it to say that even though I knew to choose a bra without the kind of metal support system normally found in a highway overpass, it was still a mistake.  Big. Yes, I got advice from my survivor friends, but I figured (heh) that since I didn't have lymph nodes removed or even a partial mastectomy, my boob would be different.  It is not.  I am now in search of camisoles with support.  While they help with the surgical issues, they also squish everything in their path, which means my clothes don't fit.  I know, boo hoo for me.  It's not like I normally dress for fashion week.  

Driving is also a bitch and a half because of the seatbelt.  In the interest of not encouraging unsafe behavior, I will not tell you what I do in order to drive without screaming.  Even then, it's uncomfortable.  And yes - there are dozens of people who would be happy to drive me places - many have specifically offered to do just that.  But noooooooooo, much like a toddler, I decided I was going to do it myself.  Repeatedly.  Dumb and Dumber.

So now I am paying the price for my recklessness and have to really take it easy.  Do I need to tell you how much I HATE that?!  Hate, hate, hate, with the fire of the sun, hate.

It's another cost that cancer imposes.  Cancer sucks. Getting a wonderful diagnosis is fantastic, but I lost sight of the underlying battle, and that was a mistake. Never turn your back on your enemy. Like Chuck Norris, it never sleeps.

 

Comments

[Nancy Martin]

Take it easy.

Those are the kind of words that make you, Miz Kathy, grind your teeth!

[Buff]

You must be nuts to be out driving or even riding around in a car. Pothole season has begun for heaven's sake!! I can still hear the stifled shrieks and swallowed grunts coming from my mother over in the passenger seat after she went thru this. Stay home, put your feet up and read! /hugs

[Avis]

Sounds like you're still in the denial phase. Probably won't make you feel better, but after my hysterectomy, I couldn't lift anything heavier than a gallon of milk for six weeks. So you're testing your limits! Don't beat yourself up over that - how else will you know what you can and can't do? The pain will pass, and you probably won't actually damage anything unless you're taking up jackhammering for a living. :-)

[Cynthia D'Alba (AKA ArkansasCyndi)]

patients who push themselves too far and too fast are a PITA for the medical community. SO DON"T DO IT

We in the medical world did not make up these post-op instructions to screw with you head (or your life).

So Ms PITA Patient Who Did Not Follow Instructions, your day in bed is your punishment.

Now, behave!

But glad to hear that your wonderful sense of humor is intact.

[Pam aka SisterZip]

My hysterectomy was 10 years ago next week and I can still remember how helpless and frail I felt (a huge misadventure: big incision and 9 day hospital stay). I drove myself to my first appointment post surgery and my doctor literally screamed at me. He called a cab to take me home. My mother took me to my next one (oh God the horrors-she wanted to be in the exam room with me). He went to the waiting room and told her I couldn't drive for another two weeks. My mother didn't like the guy when she met him the day of my surgery, but she loved him after he told her that. So I had to be a good girl and follow directions because I could have done severe damage and had internal bleeding. Or so he said. :-)

Follow the directions, Kathy. As hard as it is to do, it is worth it. Rest, relax, catch up on movies, tv, and shrink your TBR pile. We all want you around for a very long time.

[Harley]

TAKE IT EASY, sister. Even Superwoman gets vacation time and sick leave and days off and naps. It's in the contract.

Of course, it's easy for me to say this to you, but were I in your shoes--uh, bra--I'm guessing I'd be doing the same thing. Still, TAKE IT EASY, sister. We all love you.

[Elaine A. Judge]

Kathy-I think a big problem (for me anyhow) was opening and particularly closing the CAR door. It pulls on your chest and the doors are heavier than you think.

Of course, you would overdo it. Everybody in this family does. It's a good and bad gene.

Take it easy for a few days and keep your spirits up.

PS-remembering going to a party in the empty condo your Dad had for everyone. I was 2 weeks out of the emergency hysterectomy and went to the party. I nearly passed out and had to leave early and payed the price for a few days. The bad gene again. love you.

[JodiL]

You know, Kathy, it's ok to let the depression in for a bit. What you have and will be going thru is depressing. Yes, I know, others have it worse, you could have had a worse diagnosis, blah, blah, blah. But damn it, it happened to you and you don't like it. I don't like it either. So forget the denial as a way to suppress the depression. Accept it, let it in (for a bit) and then pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and get on with your normal life, just remember, there is now a "new normal". It's still normal, it's just different. Been there, done that, Jodi.

[William]

We're all too old for this shit....

Okay, there's my movie reference for the day!

Jodi is 110% correct. I'm struggling to accept the "New William", and it's not easy. Not as quick as I used to be, typing is a struggle, mind is not as sharp as it was, or as sharp as I thought it was.

Problem is, there's no going back; the damage is done. Recognize the revision, accept it, find ways around it, and go forward.

But fercrissakes, Kathy, take a couple of days off. The Universe As We Know It will NOT collapse, I promise....:)

[Renee in KS]

There is enough guilt around - no need to heap it on. However, you are human and the superhuman powers need a break. Give yourself permission to process this experience. Time heals many things.

[marie]

Kathy, take it easy!!
I have had three surgeries..two major and one minor.
And the minor one did me in.
Went home, after outpatient surgery. I went to the kitchen to assume my duties, put the chicken and the oven and we had a meltdown for dinner. Not the chicken..me.
I bawled and bawled and wanted to assume my regular routine. So I just figured that my brain such as it is was,was in overdrive but my body was not.
So, I say Kathy..we love you. We love your blog and we appreciate everything that you do.
So take it easy and we are pulling for you all the way!

[Karen in Ohio]

Kathy, we feel for you, my dear.

Our local sewing guild used to make little pillows that attached to the seat belt strap, adjustable to lay where most needed, for mastectomy patients. Maybe you could use a folded scarf to cushion the area? The pillows they made weren't very thick, and were rectangular, so they didn't hamper movements while driving. I hope that idea might help you, too.

Hang in there!

[Lora in Florida]

(tried to post this once before so if it shows up twice...feel free to remove it)

Kathy, Kathy, Kathy, I can see I am going to have to school you in the art of surgery and boobage recovery! Since you didn't have a partial mastectomy, you've lost out on a few things...like the "Boob-Voyage" party my friends threw for me. This involved lots of good friends, lots of alcohol and chocolate and dancing on the tables! But we will work with what we have.

First of all, you are now entitled to the Surgery Card! This is where you are at the grocery store, and you whisper, "I've had breast surgery" to the checkout lady, looking all wan and pale, clutching said breast. The bagger will take your groceries to the car and load them up. Then you get to wander in the house, yell "SOMEONE UNLOAD THE GROCERIES FOR MOM", and head to your room, where you lay down for 20 minutes while the groceries get in the house and get put away. Sometimes dinner gets made.

No vacuuming! You could hurt your breast. No dusting! You can't possibly lift your arm. No scrubbing pans! You couldn't lift those heavy things. No unloading the dishwasher! Use any of the above.

Recovery...it is important to stay stress-free. You may need a couple of deluxe pedicures for this process. You know the kind with the hot towels and prolonged leg/foot rubs. Full body massages are out but facials are NOT!
You are also entitled to retire to your room, book in good hand, for "a little rest" when children/husband want you to do something unreasonable like help with homework or make dinner.

Now for work. Don't want to attend that faculty meeting about the excessive use of toilet paper in the ladies room? Put your sad eyes on, preferably with mascara smeared underneath, arm protectively across chest, and say sadly, "I'm just not up to it yet."

Didn't grade tests? Class didn't hand in homework/research papers??? Sit at desk with head in good hand, arm cradling breast and whimper, "I just can't believe this..."

You get the idea. Now we will expect a FULL report on how you've mended your ways, and recovered the way you are SUPPOSED to recover. :) Relax and feel better!

[Tom]

For a while, schweetheart, it's okay to take the BAMMM! out of 'bambina.' TV and movies lie about amazing heroic recuperative powers. 'Wolverine' is fictitious.

However, you may smoke a cheroot and drink a Molsons if you so desire.

And get the offspring to fetch and tote for you. This is a fine time for Ty to build some biceps. Be well, be wise, be coddled for a while.

[Storyteller Mary]

A wise nurse once expressed it better than I can, "Pamper yourself." Be "Miss Scarlett" for a while and let others do things for you. You know you would do it for them . . . and add chocolate!
My source for latex-free undies and swimsuits is also often prescribed for post-surgical bras. There is usually a wait, as they are custom-made, but if you told them what's up, perhaps they could rush some to you . . .
http://www.decentexposures.com/

[Storyteller Mary]

Laraine could advise if acupuncture might help recovery . . .

[gaylin in Vancouver]

Stop and smell the roses! Or at least stop and read books, put your feet up and get a hand bell. Ring said bell when you have a need for coffee, cookies, a foot rub.

If you don't want to give into depression, how about acknowledge the sadness, you are missing a part of you now. You can accept the whole thing was effing scary, when you feel all of the darker feelings then WHAM, you can let in the joy, you are still here, you are healthy. This will heal! In a few weeks you can return to your normal routine with a vengeance.

When I was recovering from chronic C. Diff, I am sure I hampered my recovery by pushing it. I kept going for walks, doing laundry, grocery shopping, all the everyday things that sucked up energy I didn't have. It took 20 months to get back to somewhat normal amounts of energy, would it have taken less time if, for the first 3-4 months I had just asked for help???

Slow down, take care, smell those darn flowers.

[mary lynn]

We all know and love you as Wonder Woman, but right now, you need to play the rold of victim-let every one wait on you. Allow the anger out. Cry. Mourn for 'life as it used to be'; it will be back plenty soon enough. We have that switch of 'mom mode' where we think we can't be sick,who would do all the things that need doing that only *I* can do well. Consider it a Life Lesson for the kids.

I'm sure Tom wishes it had been himn so he could take away your pain. Let him do some stuff too, so he doesn't feel so guilty.

[mary alice at mystery lovers bookshop]

What part of men's tank style T shirts did you not understand?

I won't yell.....I will send more books on Monday.....I will bring chicken soup and drive you anywhere next week.....you better call or I will tell your relatives who have a way without words of making you understand.

Love and light hugs, maryalice

[Reine]

Be nice to the boobage. Be nice to all of you.

I live for your blogs, Kathy.

xo Reine

[Kathy Reschini Sweeney]

Thank you and I KNOW.

I already admitted I was an idiot, but it is wonderful to feel all the love.

I wear the big T-shirts as much as possible, but even before this happened, I was more comfortable wearing a bra, even to sleep.

Sticking with the compression camisoles for now and not pushing my luck.

I have been taking it really easy all weekend. Plan to do the same today. I am actually making a dent in my TBR pile!!!

xo

[Guido 'Bruiser' Santucci]

Kathy-

Uncle Sal says if yinz don't do what yer supposed to do, then me and Donnie are gonna have to come over and explain the difference between takin' care of yerself and not doing that. Me and Donnie are good at explaining stuff to people, but we'd rather not have to explain stuff to you. See, I am reasonable and patient, but Donnie... well, he's got kind of a temper sometimes. We don't wanna do this, but if Uncle Sal says we gotta, then we gotta, you know da rules. Donnie suggested if both yer legs was broke, then you'd have to take things easy for a while, but we voted, like dat Congress down in Washington, and decided that method of recovery therapy is unwarranted at this point. (See? I learned some new words on my last.... uh, vacation. Yeah, dat's it, I took a vacation.)

Uncle Sal is kinda pissed at you for not doing what the docs say to do, but then he realized it IS Kathy and there is no reasoning with you sometimes, no matter how persuasive we try to be witchu.

So, we (me and Donnie) is asking politely that you settle down and do what the docs tell you to do. It will be much nicer that way, bambina, and a lot less hassle all da way arounds. I don't need anudder vacation for a while, you know what I mean?

Capisce?

[WIlliam]

Wow! Making a dent in the TBR pile is a good thing..:) Good for you, Kathy!

[Kathy Reschini Sweeney]

Capisce! Capisce already!!

Just don't tell Her, Margie. That is all the hell I need.

[Karen in Ohio]

Sweeney, you're half crazy, and I love you like fire. Take care of yourself. You're a national treasure. :-)