25 Things I’d Tell Myself Before My Lumpectomy

It’s been two years since my DCIS diagnosis, lumpectomy, and radiation treatment. I can’t believe that it has been so long, and at the same time, it feels like a lifetime ago. As I got in the car today to drive my son, Dan, to the PSAT, I couldn’t help but reflect on where I was this time, two years ago.

If I could have a conversation of encouragement with myself before surgery, what would I say?

I decided to write out 25 things that I would tell myself before my lumpectomy in no particular order.  

25 Things I’d Tell Myself Before Surgery

1. Stay flexible as things unfold on surgery day. Things will work out, and they can’t do the surgery without you!
2. Ask for a wheelchair. Don’t walk the halls to check-in, especially if you are feeling weak and tired
3. Anesthesia is great – especially because you won’t remember the surgery!
4. Operating rooms are cold!
5. Always take the warm blankets
6. Pain meds slow the digestive track down- be prepared!
7. Take care when getting up and walking after surgery. 
8. Shower well before surgery because you don’t know when your next one will be
9. Dry shampoo is your friend
10. Schedule a shampoo at the salon. You’ll feel great afterward.
11. Your emotions might be all over the map. 
12. Schedule the pain meds so that you remain comfortable.
13. Wear pretty pajamas during recovery at home.
14. Yoga pants are your friend, and yes, you can wear them every day!
15. Pearls and pajamas can be a perfectly acceptable recovery outfit
16. Don’t get tired talking to everyone. Pace yourself.
17. Your surgery site will be a mess once you unwrap. Don’t freak out. It gets better.
18. Accepting your new body post-surgery takes time.
19. Recovery is a process, not an event.
20. Dogs are great recovery buddies.
21. Noise-canceling headphones are your friend.
22. Binge-watching tv shows helps the time pass quickly.
23. Let your family and friends help- it will help you focus on healing.
24. You will eventually feel well again! But- that feeling might not last.
25. The next two years won’t look like what you’re expecting.

An Unexpected Two Years 

More on #25 because that is one of the most challenging parts of this list. Somehow I thought that after cancer, everything would get back to normal.

I have no idea what “normal” is, and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t recognize it if it came and knocked on my door.

These last two years haven’t looked anything like I (or the rest of the world) thought they would. Once I was feeling better from radiation, the world shut down for Covid. Then Dave got skin cancer. As his treatment was finishing and we were getting vaccinated, I got a herniated disc in my spine. Really, more health challenges?

Naively, I thought that our family would be finished with medical challenges once we got through my DCIS. But, it turns out that we were just getting started. With each new health issue, our family would be building skills of resilience and caregiving. Whether caring for the boys after wisdom teeth removal or supporting Dave during and after his Moh’s surgery, we learned new ways to come alongside and help one another.  

If I stop to think about all the medical issues and then put them together with the changes we are experiencing with Ken leaving for college, I get overwhelmed. I try not to dwell on the full range of sadness, loss, and pain of the last few years. However, my heart grows dark, and the tears bubble up if I look closely and focus on the difficulties.

Thankfully, the darkness is only one part of the portrait of the last two years. While I would never have chosen the challenges, they have knit our family together even more. Dave and I will frequently comment that one blessing of the pandemic has been that he could stop traveling and be home as we closed out our time with Ken at home. I’m grateful for the extra time together, even if I did get a little tired of cooking every single night.

We crammed as much fun as possible into the eight weeks of summer we had after Dan got fully vaccinated. We ate out, went to Disneyland, saw family, took a vacation, and ate out some more! (I was really tired of cooking)

October 2021: Harder than I Expected

October 2019 will always be the most ironic Breast Cancer Awareness Month for me. Believe me, I was very “aware” of breast cancer since I was going through diagnosis and treatment!

This Breast Cancer Awareness month hit me hard. I wasn’t expecting it, but I thought I’d share a little about what I’ve been going through. 

Many of the metastatic breast cancer voices I have gotten to know over the last year have recently passed away. I am saddened each time I open Twitter and find that another person has died of this disease. Awareness is essential, but research into stopping this devastating disease is critical. Each day women and men die of metastatic breast cancer. Sadly, it doesn’t matter what your initial diagnosis stage was. We don’t understand all the reasons cancer spreads and therefore cannot stop it.

Additionally, I had a scare of my own this month during my shoulder MRI. The radiology report notated “axillary lymph nodes – reactive.” I read that last sentence and freaked out. I was doing my physical therapy exercises while sobbing. “When did it become so hard to feel well and stay alive?” All of my fears of recurrence, my frustration over the herniated disc, the nonstop medical appointments, fatigue over Covid, and discomfort over the changes in my life tumbled out.  

Thankfully, I was able to get an appointment with my breast surgeon the next day. He looked over my MRI report and did an exam in the office. After reviewing my records, he said those lymph nodes were not large enough to be concerned about, especially since I had recently had imaging done of the left breast. Whew. I could breathe a little easier.

All this awareness has been doing a number on my mental health. I’m ready for November!

This was a bit of a wandering post, but it is where I am today. How are you doing as BCAM month comes to a close? Do you have anything you’d share with yourself before you headed into surgery?