I woke up in the same room I had started out in. There was some nice man in scrubs there and I asked him to get my Mom, which he did. I felt so anxious until she came back. It seemed like it took forever. As soon as she came in the room I wanted to ask her to help me to get up and get dressed and get out of there...but I was so sleepy. I couldn't believe I could be awake and be this sleepy. I felt like all my blood was made of lead and I was at the bottom of the ocean, so I went back to sleep.
A nurse came and asked how I was feeling and I said, "I'm asleep." She said, "Oh, I wanted to talk to you about something but I'll come back later."
Those aren't really words you want to hear after surgery, but I was so sleepy I didn't care. I went back to sleep some more.
After a while I woke up again and I still felt like I could sleep for years, but I really wanted to go home, so I tried to perk myself up and asked if someone could help me go to the bathroom.
I didn't really have to go, but I remembered that I would not be allowed to leave until I had gone to the bathroom...so I figured I'd better try.
A nurse (I think it was Kathy) came and walked me over to the restroom and I felt so dizzy when I stood up that I thought I might fall down, but I REALLY wanted to go home, so I tried to act normal.
I was able to pee, and it was bright bright blue in that white hospital toilet. I thought maybe they had one of those sanitizer tablets in there, but no. That was the radioactive stuff coming out of my body. I wanted to go and get my camera, but I was too tired.
Kathy (I think) helped me back to my bed and I sat there and started shaking really hard. My whole body was shaking and my teeth were chattering really hard. I didn't feel cold. I don't know if it was a side effect of the anesthesia and other chemicals or if I was just scared...but I didn't try to fight it. I just sat there and let my teeth knock against each other. The nice thing was, it kind of woke me up enough that I felt like I could get my clothes on.
I let my mom dress me. I didn't even try to look down at my chest to see what my bandages looked like. I just wasn't ready to face it. I just wanted to get home. I felt like a little kid again, needing her mom to pull her pants up for her.
Then the nurse came back to talk to me now that I was awake. Apparently, someone had gotten accidentally stuck with one of my needles during my surgery. She didn't explain how it happened exactly, but I guess no matter how careful they are, sometimes people get stuck with contaminated stuff. She did tell me that one time there was a used needle on a table and it just rolled right off the table and stuck someone in the foot...right through their shoe! Being a nurse is really a risky job, I guess.
Anyway, she asked me to sign a form and consent to a blood test to see if I had any blood borne pathogens so that the person who got stuck with my needle could sleep easy tonight. I said, "sure," and signed it. Mom thought it was weird that they would ask me to sign stuff and consent to procedures when I was so doped-up, but I'm sure I would have made the same decision even if I'd been clear headed.
As I started to sober-up a little, I noticed that my throat was really really sore. I guess they put some kind of tube down your throat while you are knocked out. It hurt really bad. Much worse that my surgery wound. I wish I'd been told to expect that. It felt really violating to realize something has been shoved down your throat while you were passed out. They gave me a grape popsicle and I enjoyed it, but it wasn't like it made everything okay.
Mom told me that Dr. Rocco had stopped by the waiting room to talk to her before she headed home. Dr. Rocco said that surgery had gone just fine, they had removed my lymph node to check for spreading cancer and they were completely clear! This was great news because it meant that I was now totally cancer-free. Apparently, my lymph nodes were really hard to find and Dr. R had to dig around for a while to find them. She was looking for them at the side up my body, kind of just past my breast and up towards my arm pit. She took out what looked like one but was actuall four of them all in a little bundle together.
A young man named Joe in a white lab coat came by with a rolly-cart full of needles and test tubes and color-coded labels. I always ask to have blood drawn from my left arm because I have a big mole on my right arm that is exactly where they usually stick the needle. But, I still had an IV in on the left side so Joe said he would take the blood from my right arm. I didn't argue. I was so sleepy.
After he rolled away with his little cart, the nurse came back to give us instructions. She showed Mom how to empty the drainage bulb that collects the fluid from my wound. (I looked away...not ready to deal with this just yet.) Then, she told us to make sure I didn't put any pressure on my right arm or have any blood drawn from that arm. My mom spoke up and told her how Joe had just been in and taken blood from my right arm minutes ago. The nurse pressed her lips together like she was mad and stayed real quiet for a moment. Then she told us she was sorry, that shouldn't have happened and told us to look out for pain or swelling. "But it will probably be fine," she said. It was.
After my IV was removed I was ready to go home! YAY.
The nurse asked me if I was hungry and I told her, "Yes! I want to go get fish tacos from Cabo San Luis." She said that probably wasn't a good idea and handed me a little bag to carry in my lap on the way home in case I needed to throw up.
I didn't need that bag. I needed something more like a bucket.
I felt okay for the first twenty minutes or so of the drive. Then, at some point I asked Mom, "Can we stop at a gas station and get some ginger-ale? I need something to calm my stomach if I'm going to make it the rest of the way home." She said, "Okay honey," and I shut my eyes. I really didn't feel that bad, just a little queasy.
We drove on for a few minutes more, and I didn't start to feel any worse. It was like a little voice deep inside me bubbled up and said..."You need to pull the car over." So I asked mom in what I thought was a real relaxed voice, "Can you pull over?" Boy...she pulled that car over so fast I couldn't believe it. Thank goodness there was a nice wide shoulder on that section of the 101. I looked at the door and thought, "If I just had some fresh air, that would be nice." So, I opened the door and leaned out.
All of a sudden I opened my mouth and all this water poured out of it from I just didn't know where. I felt like my head was a spigot and someone had turned it on when I wasn't looking. I didn't heave or strain, it just poured out of me. Then it stopped. Then some more came out and this time it was dark colored and that worried me until I remembered the grape popsicle. I leaned out of the car for a while, and mostly clear liquid kept pouring out of me. I felt so happy to have short hair that stayed out of the way without any effort on my part.
I don't know where all that liquid came from. I hadn't had much to drink that day. It's true I was hooked up to an IV all day, but that fluid doesn't go into your stomach...so where had it come from? I just don't know.
The rest of the ride home was uneventful.
Once there, we crashed on the couch, ate yogurt and watched movies.
I was mostly just tired. It all seemed so surreal. Even the fact that my breast had been removed was still unclear to me. The bandaging they put over the surgery site was all built up and rounded out just like a breast. It was easy to imagine that I still had one under there...in a serious padded-out push-up bra. I haven't asked yet, but I think they did that on purpose. That way, your first week home after surgery is just spent dealing with recovering from surgery. Your body doesn't seem that different. You still have something to cup if you put your had to your chest. It's was higher up and firmer and bigger than what I had to cup on the left side, but I could hardly complain about that. It certainly didn't feel like I'd lost some part of myself.
I could put off that realization for another week.
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