Post Surgery Update - After the Knife
It has been about 32 hours since my surgery was completed at North Central Baptist Hospital in San Antonio under the guidance of Dr. Wagner and a highly specialized team of doctors and nurses. While this was only my second major surgery that was necessary to save my life (therefore I don't have a wealth of experience to draw upon), I will say that I believe I got the best of care a patient could expect.
To sum the experience up ... I think it turned out as well as it could have. The surgery was a success and the doctors feel they got the whole tumor and clear margins as well as the papilloma and as far as I know, they only did a sentinel node biopsy vs. an auxiliary node dissection which involves a whole lot more lymph nodes being removed. That could have gone either way if she had seen more trouble once she got in there so it looks like my lymph nodes were not too disturbed and the incision line not too high into my armpit. All good news and positive indicators but only pathology testing will reveal if there was even so much as microscopic cancer cells in any of the nodes removed.
So with the summary out of the way ... how am I feeling? Mentally: relieved and hopeful. Physically: Exhausted and sore but recovering comfortably at my daughter's house. Spiritually: Grateful to be alive and feel that I can win this battle.
Here are all the details from the start:
I got off work about 4 p.m. Sunday so I could head to my daughter's and unpack and do some "nesting" while there was still daylight. I brought quite a few things I thought I'd need for my 2-week recovery stage as a guest in her third bedroom. I had been given a special antibiotic soap to use in the shower the night before so I used that instead of my usual soap/bodywash but washed my hair as normal.
I was asked to be at the hospital at the ridiculously early time of 5:30 a.m. so I tried to go to bed about 9 p.m. Sleep was not gonna happen. To say I had the worst case of insomnia I had ever had in my life would be an understatement. While I did lie down and rest, sleep was as elusive as a warm day in the Arctic Circle in the dead of winter. When my alarm went off at 4:45 a.m. I was wide awake and went to wake my daughter. She was groggy but got up and we got out and on our way on time.
We arrived at the hospital and followed signs into the surgery area and they re-banded the hospital bracelet I had. I signed some additional consent forms, too.
My daughter and I were escorted back to a waiting room with a bed and such and I was given the good ol' hospital gown and non-slip socks to change into. A nurse took my weight and height, temperature, blood pressure, oxygen reading, etc. By this time, I was feeling somewhat dehydrated since I was not allowed to have anything, even water, after 10 p.m. the night before. My daughter was having fun taunting me with a bottled water she was sipping on. That first nurse that came in paid me a big compliment because she said she thought she might have the wrong room because she knew she had been assigned a 56-year-old female and when she saw me I looked a lot younger than expected so she thought they may have made a mistake. In truth, without any make-up and my hair braided back out of my face, I think I looked awful. Lol. But nonetheless it was appreciated.
A second nurse came in to do my I.V. This is not my favorite part as I am what is called in medical jargon "a hard stick." She had to do it on my left arm because the operation was on my right side and those veins are even harder to find than my right arm. She wasn't feeling confident after tightening the rubber tube and slapping the inside of my arm several times so she asked for a "vein finder." I didn't know this handy little high-tech tool even existed. But you hold it over the skin and it lights up the veins and shows you exactly where they are so you don't miss or go in and have to dig around and jab. My daughter held it for her while she inserted the I.V. (but later said watching that made her queasy and light-headed). The I.V. actually ached a bit the whole time I was awake but I got used to it.
As the nurse was finishing the prep work, which included writing on my right breast, another woman walked in dressed in a doctor coat with a clipboard and explained she would be the anesthesiologist in the operating room and asked me the customary questions such as have I ever had any problems with anesthesia or did I have any allergies before placing EKG patches on my body to monitor my heart during the surgery and explaining that I would first get a sedative in the I.V. which would relax me and make me feel that I'd had a few too many margaritas before putting me completely under in the operating room.
As these various medical assistants were coming and going I noticed the first male nurse lurking at the door as if he was waiting his turn. His name was Luis and he wore a Radiology badge. The anesthesiologist said she'd be back after the rest of the prep took place and Dr. Wagner had stopped in. He asked if they were ready for him to do his thing and they said yes and I wondered what it was as he looked genuinely apologetic and a little sheepish. He explained the procedure to me as it was going to take place in another room and they would roll me in the hospital bed to that location. I found out why he seemed sorry as he told me about what they were going to do next and that it would most likely be the most painful part of the entire day. I was completely unprepared for this and had not heard of it before. What he was going to do was (with the help of a Radiology Doctor) was inject a small amount of radioactive isotopes right next to my nipple under the skin and let the solution slowly spread across the entire breast until they were stopped in the lymph nodes. He would then shoot a picture of it like an X-ray. The idea was that there would be beacons to give exact locations of the lymph nodes during surgery so the doctor would be able to get the right nodes out for biopsy without any guesswork or mistakes. The bad part: there was no numbing or sedation allowed and the needle would be going into a very sensitive part and worse, the solution burned like hell going in and for about 20 seconds after the injection was given. It was scary. He asked if I was ready and the female radiologist injected me once I nodded. My daughter held my hand and didn't watch this either. I am not ashamed to say I shrieked a bit and definitely grimaced in pain. It is very much like a prolonged yellow jacket or red wasp sting although some equate it more like a scorpion sting. Since I had never experienced a scorpion sting, I would say it was more like a very bad wasp sting. Fortunately he got his picture and the burning stopped in about 30 seconds and there was no residual pain. Glad to have THAT over.
I was wheeled back to the pre-op room and the next visit came from Dr. Wagner. She explained some things about the surgery and answered questions from me including MRI results (which she said showed no surprises and just confirmed everything she had thought) and the good news that I was NEGATIVE for the breast cancer gene and therefore my daughter is not going to need to be tested and not in that high risk group. That doesn't mean my family doesn't carry it and the only way to rule that out would be to have my aunt and dad also tested. But at this point that doesn't matter as I was lucky to have not inherited it (if it is indeed there) and I think we are just scratching the surface of this whole genetics thing and how it affects development of future diseases. They have only identified a small piece of the puzzle in this area and don't even have the outside border done. Lol. Dr. Wagner talked extensively about her "toys" as she calls them in the surgery room and how important they are for her to do the very best job. She told me she never delegates the final sewing up to anybody else and always finishes that herself because she knows how important it is for the best cosmetic result. I do like this lady doctor very much and am glad to have her as my surgeon.
After this, it was getting close to 8:00 a.m. and the anesthesiologist makes her way back in after Dr. Wagner leaves to start my sedation. I did feel drunk for a bit but I don't remember them wheeling me out and to the operating room although my daughter who was still here swore I was still talking and conscious somewhat. This is where I lose touch with the conscious world and remember nothing else until coming to (very groggy) in a recovery area with about 6 or 7 other patients, each with a 2-nurse team caring for them. I was in and out of it for about 10 more minutes until I could comprehend what was going on. They called my daughter to tell her I was awake and would be ready to go fairly soon and wheeled me back to the original pre-op room where one of the two nurses (and only the second male medical person of the day) offered me apple juice and graham crackers. My daughter was there and asked how I was feeling and I replied okay as I was still out of it pretty much and had a lot of pain medication at that time. I was NOT hungry and the apple juice tasted sickly sweet so I asked for water instead which they brought. I tried a bite of the graham cracker but my mouth was really dry and it tasted like cardboard. No appetite yet.
The male nurse explained all my post-op information and handed some papers to my daughter. He said I might not remember him or the conversation we were having but I did. I guess some patients are still affected by the anesthesia and it messes with their memory even after being awoken after surgery.
The next step after taking vitals again was to get me into a wheelchair and my daughter bringing her car around to the patient pick-up zone. Although the nurse helped me, I was able to get up out of the wheelchair and stand to swivel into my daughter's car under my own power. It was between 1 and 2 p.m. when I left the hospital. I was in surgery for about 2 1/2 hours and Dr. Wagner told my daughter it went well when she went out to talk to her. I never saw Dr. Wagner after my surgery as she had an afternoon surgery scheduled as well. My follow-up is next Tuesday.
Of course, it will be the pathology reports that will help shape my future treatment plan, but I think radiation therapy starts next month.
Thanks to all of you who sent texts and/or emails, who called, etc. before and after the surgery. You all had a hand in the success of the operation and are helping me through a speedy recovery!
To sum the experience up ... I think it turned out as well as it could have. The surgery was a success and the doctors feel they got the whole tumor and clear margins as well as the papilloma and as far as I know, they only did a sentinel node biopsy vs. an auxiliary node dissection which involves a whole lot more lymph nodes being removed. That could have gone either way if she had seen more trouble once she got in there so it looks like my lymph nodes were not too disturbed and the incision line not too high into my armpit. All good news and positive indicators but only pathology testing will reveal if there was even so much as microscopic cancer cells in any of the nodes removed.
So with the summary out of the way ... how am I feeling? Mentally: relieved and hopeful. Physically: Exhausted and sore but recovering comfortably at my daughter's house. Spiritually: Grateful to be alive and feel that I can win this battle.
Here are all the details from the start:
I got off work about 4 p.m. Sunday so I could head to my daughter's and unpack and do some "nesting" while there was still daylight. I brought quite a few things I thought I'd need for my 2-week recovery stage as a guest in her third bedroom. I had been given a special antibiotic soap to use in the shower the night before so I used that instead of my usual soap/bodywash but washed my hair as normal.
I was asked to be at the hospital at the ridiculously early time of 5:30 a.m. so I tried to go to bed about 9 p.m. Sleep was not gonna happen. To say I had the worst case of insomnia I had ever had in my life would be an understatement. While I did lie down and rest, sleep was as elusive as a warm day in the Arctic Circle in the dead of winter. When my alarm went off at 4:45 a.m. I was wide awake and went to wake my daughter. She was groggy but got up and we got out and on our way on time.
We arrived at the hospital and followed signs into the surgery area and they re-banded the hospital bracelet I had. I signed some additional consent forms, too.
My daughter and I were escorted back to a waiting room with a bed and such and I was given the good ol' hospital gown and non-slip socks to change into. A nurse took my weight and height, temperature, blood pressure, oxygen reading, etc. By this time, I was feeling somewhat dehydrated since I was not allowed to have anything, even water, after 10 p.m. the night before. My daughter was having fun taunting me with a bottled water she was sipping on. That first nurse that came in paid me a big compliment because she said she thought she might have the wrong room because she knew she had been assigned a 56-year-old female and when she saw me I looked a lot younger than expected so she thought they may have made a mistake. In truth, without any make-up and my hair braided back out of my face, I think I looked awful. Lol. But nonetheless it was appreciated.
A second nurse came in to do my I.V. This is not my favorite part as I am what is called in medical jargon "a hard stick." She had to do it on my left arm because the operation was on my right side and those veins are even harder to find than my right arm. She wasn't feeling confident after tightening the rubber tube and slapping the inside of my arm several times so she asked for a "vein finder." I didn't know this handy little high-tech tool even existed. But you hold it over the skin and it lights up the veins and shows you exactly where they are so you don't miss or go in and have to dig around and jab. My daughter held it for her while she inserted the I.V. (but later said watching that made her queasy and light-headed). The I.V. actually ached a bit the whole time I was awake but I got used to it.
As the nurse was finishing the prep work, which included writing on my right breast, another woman walked in dressed in a doctor coat with a clipboard and explained she would be the anesthesiologist in the operating room and asked me the customary questions such as have I ever had any problems with anesthesia or did I have any allergies before placing EKG patches on my body to monitor my heart during the surgery and explaining that I would first get a sedative in the I.V. which would relax me and make me feel that I'd had a few too many margaritas before putting me completely under in the operating room.
As these various medical assistants were coming and going I noticed the first male nurse lurking at the door as if he was waiting his turn. His name was Luis and he wore a Radiology badge. The anesthesiologist said she'd be back after the rest of the prep took place and Dr. Wagner had stopped in. He asked if they were ready for him to do his thing and they said yes and I wondered what it was as he looked genuinely apologetic and a little sheepish. He explained the procedure to me as it was going to take place in another room and they would roll me in the hospital bed to that location. I found out why he seemed sorry as he told me about what they were going to do next and that it would most likely be the most painful part of the entire day. I was completely unprepared for this and had not heard of it before. What he was going to do was (with the help of a Radiology Doctor) was inject a small amount of radioactive isotopes right next to my nipple under the skin and let the solution slowly spread across the entire breast until they were stopped in the lymph nodes. He would then shoot a picture of it like an X-ray. The idea was that there would be beacons to give exact locations of the lymph nodes during surgery so the doctor would be able to get the right nodes out for biopsy without any guesswork or mistakes. The bad part: there was no numbing or sedation allowed and the needle would be going into a very sensitive part and worse, the solution burned like hell going in and for about 20 seconds after the injection was given. It was scary. He asked if I was ready and the female radiologist injected me once I nodded. My daughter held my hand and didn't watch this either. I am not ashamed to say I shrieked a bit and definitely grimaced in pain. It is very much like a prolonged yellow jacket or red wasp sting although some equate it more like a scorpion sting. Since I had never experienced a scorpion sting, I would say it was more like a very bad wasp sting. Fortunately he got his picture and the burning stopped in about 30 seconds and there was no residual pain. Glad to have THAT over.
I was wheeled back to the pre-op room and the next visit came from Dr. Wagner. She explained some things about the surgery and answered questions from me including MRI results (which she said showed no surprises and just confirmed everything she had thought) and the good news that I was NEGATIVE for the breast cancer gene and therefore my daughter is not going to need to be tested and not in that high risk group. That doesn't mean my family doesn't carry it and the only way to rule that out would be to have my aunt and dad also tested. But at this point that doesn't matter as I was lucky to have not inherited it (if it is indeed there) and I think we are just scratching the surface of this whole genetics thing and how it affects development of future diseases. They have only identified a small piece of the puzzle in this area and don't even have the outside border done. Lol. Dr. Wagner talked extensively about her "toys" as she calls them in the surgery room and how important they are for her to do the very best job. She told me she never delegates the final sewing up to anybody else and always finishes that herself because she knows how important it is for the best cosmetic result. I do like this lady doctor very much and am glad to have her as my surgeon.
After this, it was getting close to 8:00 a.m. and the anesthesiologist makes her way back in after Dr. Wagner leaves to start my sedation. I did feel drunk for a bit but I don't remember them wheeling me out and to the operating room although my daughter who was still here swore I was still talking and conscious somewhat. This is where I lose touch with the conscious world and remember nothing else until coming to (very groggy) in a recovery area with about 6 or 7 other patients, each with a 2-nurse team caring for them. I was in and out of it for about 10 more minutes until I could comprehend what was going on. They called my daughter to tell her I was awake and would be ready to go fairly soon and wheeled me back to the original pre-op room where one of the two nurses (and only the second male medical person of the day) offered me apple juice and graham crackers. My daughter was there and asked how I was feeling and I replied okay as I was still out of it pretty much and had a lot of pain medication at that time. I was NOT hungry and the apple juice tasted sickly sweet so I asked for water instead which they brought. I tried a bite of the graham cracker but my mouth was really dry and it tasted like cardboard. No appetite yet.
The male nurse explained all my post-op information and handed some papers to my daughter. He said I might not remember him or the conversation we were having but I did. I guess some patients are still affected by the anesthesia and it messes with their memory even after being awoken after surgery.
The next step after taking vitals again was to get me into a wheelchair and my daughter bringing her car around to the patient pick-up zone. Although the nurse helped me, I was able to get up out of the wheelchair and stand to swivel into my daughter's car under my own power. It was between 1 and 2 p.m. when I left the hospital. I was in surgery for about 2 1/2 hours and Dr. Wagner told my daughter it went well when she went out to talk to her. I never saw Dr. Wagner after my surgery as she had an afternoon surgery scheduled as well. My follow-up is next Tuesday.
Of course, it will be the pathology reports that will help shape my future treatment plan, but I think radiation therapy starts next month.
Thanks to all of you who sent texts and/or emails, who called, etc. before and after the surgery. You all had a hand in the success of the operation and are helping me through a speedy recovery!
Comments
Post a Comment