2023 and Cancer Free!

From the number of people checking in (which I do appreciate), I realize it’s been too long without an update – so here we go.

I’ve been on Tamoxifen (the hormone treatment to keep cancer far, far away) for a month now.  In fact, tomorrow will be my first day at full dosage. Dr. Lassi’s experience was that if you do a 50% dose for a month and then transition to the full dose it minimizes side effects.  To date I have not felt anything different from normal so I would say her strategy is working well.  I will know more in a few days, but don’t expect anything earth shattering.  I did have my bone density done last week as a baseline.  Good news is my bones are normal.  Dr. Lassi will monitor for any changes from Tamoxifen, and I will keep taking my Calcium and Vitamin D and doing weight bearing exercise.  Tamoxifen is only 5 years so just need to keep those bones strong!

Phase 1 of reconstruction is complete!  I finished my fills a few weeks ago.  The last one gave me some insight into what people were talking about with the pain associated.  Before that it was pretty much a non-event.  The last one took my breath away and it was 5-6 days of “okay, so that’s what they were talking about”.  But – now it’s done and I’m fully inflated (technically “filled” since it’s saline, not air).  A couple of interesting things I learned along the way.  I kept asking how I would know when they’re “done”.  The challenge is in my former world, size was measured by cup.  A, B, C, D – you know the drill.  In my new world it’s measured by cc’s.  Try to get a straight answer about how many cc’s you need to be a certain size and – well, good luck.  They were able to tell me the weight of the breast tissue taken out of me converted to cc’s.  But it’s not always a 1:1 to get back to the same size because implants look different than breast tissue.  I go back to the conversation with the plastic surgeon where he tried to explain to me that natural breasts are cone shaped and implants are round as he drew pictures.  In that moment it took every ounce of discipline I had not to crack a joke. Every. Single. Ounce.  Essentially the guidance I got was to go home, put on a tight shirt, look in the mirror and decide if it looks right.  If not – keep going and if I go too far, they can take some out during this phase.

Poor Marc and Gracie (and those select friends who received snapshots) having to gauge various side and front views in a tight shirt trying to help me figure out what looked most like me – but without 48.5 years of gravity.  It sounds simple, but the doctor also said that the tissue expander (my arch nemesis that resides in my chest for now) will distort the look.  It will make them look wider than they will be and not quite as pronounced.  With that knowledge, how in the hell can you tell what I will look like?  To say that Marc and Gracie were tired of having to discern what looked right was an understatement.  They both tried, but they were fatigued.  I finally asked the P.A. at the surgeon’s office to play the game with me and when she said “I think you’re good” – that was the end of phase one.

Something else I didn’t know – at this phase most people have lopsided-ness.  What?  How come nobody mentioned that before?  Yes, one side is slightly lower than the other.  It happens when the muscle underneath on one side “relaxes” and the other one doesn’t.  Okay, so when will the other side relax?  It may not – most people are uneven during this phase.  Yes, but I need to walk around in public.  Don’t worry Pam, this phase isn’t about looking your best – it’s about creating a pocket.  A pocket? Yes, a pocket – a nice warm cozy home for the new and future silicone implants that you will get in 3 months. Okay, so I’m making a pocket – but it’s visibly lower on one side.  Never fear – when you get your new implants, Dr. Schaefer will fix all of that and you will be great.  Okayyy. I didn’t have to tell this part of the story because it’s not terrible and unless you look you wouldn’t notice. However, if I knew someone had a mastectomy and reconstruction and I saw her in person – how could I not look? Of course, people will look! It’s human nature to be curious.  So – in the spirit of squelching any concern anyone might have when they see me during this phase – yes, they are uneven, yes, I know and yes it will get fixed.  It wasn’t a case of me finding a discount surgeon.

I don’t know if I’m delusional, but I’m not going to lie.  I really like the look of the new ones.  Maybe it’s just being happy to be cancer free and looking reasonably normal. But I like them.  Uneven, distorted from the tissue expander and yes, scarred.  However, they look pretty damn good.  I think it’s the lack of gravity. Can only get better from here!

My phase 2 reconstruction surgery date is set – Thursday, April 13.  That is not only the day the lopsidedness gets addressed, but it is the day the tissue expanders from hell leave me forever.  Look, I am grateful for their ability to make one hell of a pocket (well, two pockets, technically), but this monstrosity is not overly friendly.  I do get to sleep on my sides these days – and while moving around is helpful – the tissue expander digs in when I try to sleep.  They suck.  Not as much as they sucked when I first got them, but significantly sucky to this day. And likely until April 13. They’ve got a job and they’re doing it – but I will not shed a tear when they go buh-bye!

I am 2 weeks back into working out.  For those who were concerned I was going to overdo it – don’t worry, I did not.  My trainer gave me my workouts and I followed them.  The night before I got to start, I read the workout she assigned to me. Walking?  It started with walking.  The one thing I had been doing (albeit as slow as a tortoise).  She gave me walking.  There were also lunges an air squats and some other things.  I looked at the workout and scoffed.  This isn’t an “Eye of the Tiger” workout – this is “Old MacDonald Had a Farm” workout.  But I promised others I would not overdo it – so I did her dumb workout. And I could hardly walk for 2 days 😊. Screaming quads – sitting down to a chair was hell.  One month. That’s what happened in one month. It did get better.  Now I can run, do knee push ups (I’m still not going for the full ones) and I’ve been increasing my weights.  Still lower than where I was, but in the spirit of not hurting myself (and trying to avoid being stabbed by the infamous tissue expander/invader), I’m being careful.  I’m still doing PT.  My wall angels are not perfect, but they are coming along.  I will tell you I happened to read that for all of us with cell phone/iPad/computer neck – wall angels are something everyone can benefit from. Highly recommend the wall angels. They do kill me though.  I can’t tell if my pecs/rotator cuffs are the issue from surgery or if it’s the tissue expander digging in.  In any case – I am committed to the wall angels.

Two weeks ago, I started phasing back to work.  It was earlier than I expected, but mentally I was ready.  Being in the office was energizing and wow did I underestimate my exhaustion.  I was wiped. Truthfully, what tired me out was the stimulus of being around so many people and feeling the love.  All good things (especially for this extrovert), but it did reinforce the phasing back versus jumping in 100% was the right move. This week is my first week back full time and I feel ready.

Marc is not real thrilled that I have told people I rated him a C+ officially as my caregiver. He may or may not have suggested I take my issues up with his Union. To be fair – he had very positive intent and I am a rotten patient.  I like things done how I like them and am not real patient. The combination of those things makes me very Type A and quite the handful.  After being together for 28 years he knew exactly what he was about to face, and he handled me the best he could.  I don’t know anyone else who could have managed me better.  Or maybe his delays doing the laundry were really a test to see if I had the will power to not step in. #fail.  All is good and I’m very lucky to have a partner in life who gets me.

I don’t plan on any updates until the next surgery.  Life should be very normal until April 13.  My recovery from the April 13 surgery won’t be nearly as dramatic as the recovery from the mastectomy.  No drains, outpatient surgery.  It will mean another month of sleeping on my back and no exercise.  But I’ve been told it’s not nearly as tough physically and since I came through the mastectomy just fine – I’m not worried at all. Plus, by mid-May I will be weeks away from G’s graduation.  Many good things to look forward to – and did I mention I won’t have the plexiglass bustier from hell (the tissue expander) anymore?

Thanks for all the positive thoughts and prayers.  I do believe that support has mattered.  A lot!