March-03-2008

I realize that I am not made of steel, but sure am lucky

Hey everyone,

It has been three weeks since my surgery, and I apologize that I have yet to personally write you. The last email I sent, my dad was nice enough to type what I wanted to say, yet fixing some of my speech since I wasn't really "with it". :) I realize that this email is quite long, but there is so much I want to tell you.

Surgery was NOT what I expected. Every book I read and person I talked to who has experienced a mastectomy said that the pain was tolerable and lasted less than a week, usually because most people are really numb. Well, I did not lose any sensation. My unexpected struggle with pain, drugs, and emotions made the last three weeks extremely challenging. I am usually a very optimistic and happy person. I cried only a couple of times since my diagnosis, and have seemed to breeze through chemo effortlessly. Yet this experience made me realize that I am not made of steel. I felt pain. I felt sorrow. I felt fear. I felt doubt. I felt sadness. I felt like a completely different person.

I never thought a person was capable of experiencing so much pain. Like I mentioned in my last email, the hospital experience was frustrating because for some reason, my pain level was not able to be controlled. Morphine did absolutely nothing for me, except show the beginning signs of morphine toxicity.

Because morphine didn't work, my night nurse called my doctors and the two of them (breast & plastic surgeons) started a drug regimen of oxycodone, dilaudid, valium, & lortab. No one realized that those are way too many opioid/narcotics for someone my size. Unfortunately, the pain was still not resolved. It hurt even to breath. Some of the side effects of my drug schedule were slurred speech, confusion, insomnia, emotions all over the place, loss of intermittent memory, loss of appetite, etc.

There are a few reasons why I may not have responded to the drugs well. First of all, I did not lose sensation. If I were numb, the pain would obviously be lessened. Having sensation will be a blessing in the future, but makes the present frustrating. Secondly, a nurse in the hospital told me that sometimes people with high tolerance to pain do not respond to opioids because of the difference in the pain receptors in the brain. The third possibility is that I am young, fit, and my muscles and skin, which were both cut and manipulated, are tighter and more likely to spasm.

The day after surgery I went home wrapped in gauze with an sad & ugly attempt of a sports bra (haha) with two drains coming out from my left side. I don't remember much of that first week except for the constant pain and love of my family & friends. I was a different person. What a challenge for my family, Ben, friends, and myself. I didn't eat much. No position was comfortable to sleep. I cried a lot. But was never alone. My family & Ben were there 24-7 and I was so blessed.

I went back to both doctors a week after surgery, and the doctors were extremely pleased with how well I am healing. My incisions look awesome and the future outcome looks promising. I already show symmetry, and the pathology report showed no signs of ANY cancer cells anywhere in the tissue taken out. I am officially cancer free, and all of your prayers healed me! Thank you!

However, my doctors took one look at me and were instantly worried with my mental presentation. I was too drugged. The first thing out of both of their mouths were "you're taking too many drugs". I was so frustrated and confused. I had no pain relief, yet, I am taking too many? And I am taking too many, but they are the ones who prescribed them to me? Frustrating. Scary. My family was however relieved because it was very hard for them to see me as someone else for that entire first week. One good thing is that I had one drain pulled, leaving me with just one. The new plan was to only take oxycodone for pain and valium as a muscle relaxer.

Week two was similar to week one. The pain was unresolved. Still having a drain was annoying. I was still taking two very strong narcotics, and was acting different and either very emotional or emotionless. Valium seemed to help the best, but made me act very odd. I didn't smile much. I didn't talk much. I cried a lot. I tried to get out of the house every day, even if to the grocery store...but still wasn't eating much. Yet again, my parents and Ben were there, constantly. So understanding. So patient. So concerned. So helpful.

Week three I go back to the doctor, and my biggest fear was that they would take me off of Valium, the one thing that seemed to help me sleep and relax. The first thing my breast surgeon said to me is "You're going to be off of all narcotics by Saturday". I wanted to cry. I was in so much pain. Now what was I going to do? I felt misunderstood and very scared. The only good news is that I was now allowed to take ibuprofen, which has always worked well for me (but couldn't take it two weeks before or after surgery because it increases the chance of bleeding). So I was placed on a weaning schedule to be off of the narcotics and only on ibuprofen, flexeril (a muscle relaxer without behavioral side effects), and Lortab for when pain is really bad (which is like Tylenol III). Then the plastic surgeon took out my last drain, which hurt SO bad. On the drive home, I was in more pain than earlier and terrified of what I was facing. Yet I started seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I had no more drains. I know ill be okay.

Proudly, I weaned faster than planned and ibuprofen and flexeril proved to work much better for me than the strong opioids. I was still in a lot of pain, but it was a different pain. It didn't hurt to breath anymore, but where the drain was felt like a tunnel of ripped tissue. I was extremely