The big day finally came.  I wasn’t sure it was going to happen at first.  The cough I had was still very apparent and I was really scared they would postpone.  Thankfully, after some questions and the anesthesiologist looking at my throat, I was given the green light!!!  I was glad that I would finally get it over with.

I was put into pre-op where they took vitals and started an IV.  They explained that I would have to be taken to the women’s center for the first procedure.  They wheeled me over there and went over all the necessary information and asked if I had any questions.  I asked the nurse if the procedure was done in the same type of chair I was in for the biopsy, already knowing that the answer was probably yes.  Much to my dismay, she confirmed.  A few minutes later, I was loaded up and they explained that I would be given local anesthetic and then they would take a mammogram photo so they could confirm the location of the clip and the doctor would insert a wire.  They got started and once the wire was in, they took another photo to ensure the wire was over the clip.  Then, they took another photo from the side this time to see how much further in it needed to be pushed.  Thankfully, they got everything on the first shot and the procedure was pretty quick.  They taped the wire to me and put some gauze over the site.  I took a look afterward and the wire looked no different than something I’d buy at Michael’s to make jewelry.  It made me chuckle to think that it will probably be billed at hundreds of dollars when I could have gotten a whole roll for them for five bucks.  They wheeled me back to pre-op to await my partial mastectomy.

The anesthesiologist told me that they’d give me a sedative and that most people are out before they see the hallway, but that on occasion they see the operating room and might remember being in there but that was about it.  Not long after, they administered the sedative and I started feeling the effects.  I remember the whole ride over and the operating room.  They put warm blankets over me and started to strap my legs down.  “I’m still awake,” I said.  They joked they needed to strap me down so I didn’t run away.  They then moved my arms outward and put blankets on those and began to strap them down.  “I’m still awake,” I said again.  They put the mask over my face and told me to breathe and they knew I was awake but would not be soon.  I think I said it a couple more times just to make sure they knew, and then I was out.

I woke up in recovery with a pounding headache and just wanted to go home.  Darin told me to sleep a bit more.  I did and they brought in some juice and crackers, which I was very grateful for!  They took out the IV and I got dressed to head home.  I remember being wheeled out and getting in the car, but I can’t say I remember the ride home.  I do remember texting some people that all went well.  We got home and I got dressed in comfy clothes and took a nap.  I felt pretty good considering.  I took the pain meds to make sure that I kept the major pain at bay, if there was any.  Sleep that night was very uncomfortable.  Ladies can attest to the fact that gravity works in weird ways with that kind of tissue and it really didn’t do good things for it after surgery.  The more time went on, the more uncomfortable I became.  I ended up propping into a seated like position to be as comfortable as I could.

Day two seems to be when the pain always kicks in.  Work out too hard, and you feel it day 2.  Have a fender bender and your neck hurts day 2.  This was no different.  I went to take a shower in the morning and gravity was once again against me.  I made it quick and took my pain meds.  I’ve been ordered to wear a sports bra 24/7 for at least one week, I can see why.  I told myself to accept and embrace the healing process, and I did.  The days that followed were full of ups and downs.  I had a great day where I went for a short walk and really felt like myself again, but then had a bad day right after.  I would say that Thursday, almost a week after surgery, was the first day I really felt on the mend.  I was able to ride in the car without wincing and didn’t really sleep during the day.  I was off pain meds and on my way in recovery.

I went back to work the following week and tried to walk in the mornings to get myself back on my old schedule.  I was really looking forward to getting the clearance to start training again.  About two and a half weeks after surgery, I got the all clear!  It came with a warning that I was still very much healing and that it would take a good while before I was really 100%.

I was excited to get back to training but knew running would be the challenge.  What happens is, the body fills the void with fluid which then hardens to become scar tissue.  There’s all kinds of little pains and niggles during the healing process as nerves reconnect, etc.  My first run went ok, but I had to cut it short and walk some.  I began to ache about 15-20 minutes in, and knew it was not a good idea to continue.  With the help of my coach, I made some modifications to my training to focus more on the bike and strength and ease into the running over the next few weeks.

I’m excited for this fresh start and was really proud of myself for the effort I put in that firs real full week of training.  Now, if only I could get myself to go to the pool….

Star Wars Day is fast approaching! Yes, that’s a thing.  In the movies, the Jedi say “May the Force be with You” to wish someone well.  So, May the 4th (get it), is Star Wars Day!  Being the Star Wars geeks that we are, we always acknowledge it, but it doesn’t go much further than that.  This year, however, it so happens that May 4th is the day I’m having my partial mastectomy.  Seems like all this should be happening in a galaxy far, far away, but unfortunately it’s happening right here in my little world.

When I started this blog, I really more intending it to be full of my goofy triathlon adventures.  I had searched the web when I started training and found a handful of blogs of people who were “regular” folks.  They had full time jobs, spouses and kids, and were training too.  Their stories were helpful and encouraging.  I wanted to provide the same thing for someone else out there, and I also wanted my kiddo to be able to go back and read about his mom’s struggles and triumphs.  I told myself that no matter what, I’d be honest.  Yes, I try to put a fun spin on some of my follies, but when I am scared of the swim, I am scared of the swim.  If it’s an embarrassing chafing story, so be it.  I never really gave it much thought until this whole situation came about.  This time, it’s hard to be honest.  It’s hard to be vulnerable to family and friends.  But, it’s part of my adventures, so here goes.

The last few weeks have royally sucked!  When we got back from NY (which was the best trip!), I knew I had about 30 days until surgery.  I told myself I was going to make the most of it.  I talked myself up so much, I was ready to crush each and every day.  I told myself I was back to clean eating, pumping iron and was going to swim even more than my coach prescribed in my training plan.  I was going to go into surgery feeling amazing.  A couple of weeks laid up, and I would be back at it.  No problem!  I was going to be one of those people who took something that sucked, and made the most of it.  I was going to be a badass!!!

It was a nice thought.  Sometimes what you want to be, and what you are, are two very different things.  We got back from the trip and I felt completely drained.  I chalked it up to travel exhaustion.  I gave myself the benefit of the doubt and slugged through my workout.  Dang.  I really wanted to crush that first one.  Oh well, there is always tomorrow.  At least, that is what I told myself.  The next day came, and I felt blah again.  Then the next, and so on for several days.  What is wrong with me?!  I could not figure it out.  I slept in some, thinking I needed rest.  I told myself it was ok to skip the workouts here and there.  Then, I would regret not doing them and end up slugging through them after work.  I got ready to go to the pool and I felt like I did years ago, when my mom had to pry me out of the bed to swim at summer camp.  I wanted to kick and scream and cry….I don’t want to go!  Sure, I have had days where I didn’t want to swim, but this was borderline ridiculous.  I decided not to go, but it didn’t really make me feel any better.

When the alarm went off, I was starting almost every day with this inner dialogue:  I’m going to get up and crush it today!  UGH What’s the point?  I don’t know,….there isn’t one.  I’m going to be laid up soon anyway.  Ok, I am sleeping in then…. and I’d sleep in.  I also wasn’t sure why it was affecting me so badly.  I was mad at myself.  I’d gained weight.  I’d already begun to lose fitness.  The inner dialogue would continue: Stop being a baby!  You should be grateful.  Stop whining.  This isn’t that big of a deal!  I know there are people out there far worse, why was I letting this affect me?  Then, half the time I’d end up doing the workout in the evening which made me feel a little better.  I felt like a crazy person.

The more I thought about it, the more I started to get to the bottom of things.  I was frustrated.  Part of me still has a hard time accepting that I even need this procedure.  I mean, they say I don’t have cancer, so why do I need to cut a big chunk out of my body?  I know it sounds crazy but it would have almost been easier to accept if I did.  At least a drastic move makes sense at that point, right?  I am conflicted.   One part of me wants to be this total badass.  I want to train hard, eat right and make every day before surgery the best it can be!  On the other hand, all I kept thinking was “why bother?”  Part of my problem was that I was trying too hard to be gracious about it.  I kept beating myself up for being upset because so many people have it so much worse than I do.  Truth be told, I was upset!  It sucks!  It took me a few weeks and several conversations with unbiased people to realize that I can feel both things.  Acknowledging that for me, this is really sucky, doesn’t take away from the fact that I am still grateful it isn’t worse.  As hard as that is, I have to try to accept that it’s ok to feel that way.

It didn’t totally fix things.  I had a couple great days and I’ve had a couple sucky days.  We went to Disney and I got to run with my kiddo in his first 10k!  The next day, I ran the Star Wars half marathon with my hubby.  Although it was painful due to a foot injury and big blister, I was still happy I did it.  I had a solid training plan going into a trail run I had planned for Sunday.  I planned to try my best to train hard over the last week, but got a bad cold.  I had to cancel dinner with a friend in an effort to try to rest and recover.  They won’t operate if I am sick, and the last thing I want to do is reschedule.  I’m just under a week away, doing my best to get over this cold.  I am trying to enjoy the good days, and find some good in the bad days.  As much as I don’t want it to affect me this way, it does, and all I can do is accept that.  I am starting to realize that every badass had to struggle at some point.  If they didn’t, they wouldn’t be badass, would they?  So, maybe after all this is over, I can try to come out the other side a little more badass than when I started.  Only time will tell.  I’ll post as soon as I can after the procedure and share what went down.  Until then, May the force (or 4th) be with you!

“There is good in everything, if only we look for it.” – Laura Ingles Wilder