the rundown

This one is apt to be a tome as I attempt a brain dump of the last few days... So first things first so you can stop reading if you want to: Becca is home and resting comfortably. She has been on just tylenol since two nights ago so the pain seems to be fairly manageable. She is back to the old Becca and her spirits are surprisingly high. The fact that she has come back from the hospital without part of her previous body does not seem to be affecting her in the least. I'm not sure if it just hasn't sunk in yet or if this is the honest reaction, but at this point I'm suspecting the latter.

During her stay, the doctors were pleasantly surprised with how fast she seemed to be getting back to normal. Dr. H's hypothesis is that women who have already been through chemo handle surgery much better. In other words, putting yourself through the chemo wringer makes recovery from surgery seem like a walk in the park.

So Wednesday morning Becca and I arrived at about 8:00a.m. and were checked in to a bustling surgical pre-op floor. Maybe 14 patients in all, getting prepped and briefed by their own nurses and doctors and anesthesiologists etc. Our nurse said this is how a typical day always starts. And when they wheeled Becca away around 9:30 to go to the O.R. the pre-op floor was suddenly a ghost town. Everyone had started. Time to go to work. (wow)

So the prep time was mostly with the anesthesiologist, who set Becca up with the IV she would have for the next two days (piece of cake for chemo girl). And when he started a beginning dose of the anesthesia, it was just enough to get that cosmo/gin-n-tonic smile on Becca's face. She exclaimed "wooo! should I be feeling that already?!" to which the anesthesiologist replied "you sure should!"

The head O.R. nurse came to introduce herself as the take-no-prisoners, you-are-my-only-concern-today, screw-bedside-manner-I-will-kick-anyone's-butt-who-gets-in-the-way-of-your-health kind of caregiver.

Then our two surgeons arrived with their residents and, as the anesthesiologist had warned us, took purple markers (yeah, like magic markers) and did their "artwork". The breast surgeon's was sort of just an initial on the breast, as if to say "Lumpy, I've got your number." But then the plastic surgeon's markings were much more involved. I suppose even at this stage, the best possible end result (which Becca will not have until well into 2010) starts with the best planning -- even with the insertion of the tissue expander (more on this below).

I remember remarking to more than a few family members afterwards that the rockstars were all here. At the risk of revealing my age, it really did feel like we were at the Hall of Justice with the Superfriends all around us. We had of course seen a few of these doctors separately before, but now they were all assembled, and all their days today were about one patient: Becca. I have never felt we were in better hands than during that prep time.

Becca was not scared at all for any of the prep. The only worry she showed was about her husband. I remember hearing her last question as they wheeled her away... "Are they going to tell John where to go?" to which the nurse replied "Oh yes don't worry about him." As if I would just stay there, sitting, catatonic, for the rest of the day where her gurney used to be. Honestly. I fear in Becca's eyes I am just such a mess, a puddle of worry.

So how did yours truly, the Worrier-In-Chief, get through an entire day of Becca being in the operating room? Well for most of the day Popa Lee, Gwamma Sarah, Emily, Popa John, and Allison were also there. That's how. And we must not forget the most beautifully distracting member of the waiting squad, Sydney. There is nothing quite like a gorgeous 4-month-old to take your mind of your worries, mostly because, well, her mind is certainly not worrying about anything. She is just there, living in that exact moment. As Dickens would say, she's up for anything from pitch and toss to manslaughter. She's psyched to see people and places and do just about anything or nothing. Most of the day she just sat there on a lap and beamed at people pretty much all day. Sometimes she would have nummies or nap, get up, and beam some more.

While Sydney beamed, our beloved breast surgeon did her own thing she was best at. We learned from one of the residents that Dr. H. took an extra hour to clean out the remains of the tumor - the chemo had wrecked it so completely that it was anything but a cut-and-dried task. She came down to our waiting-circle afterwards and had a turn holding Sydney while she told us how everything went. Becca was very stable for the entire procedure. No too much bleeding, which is good. She was pleased. And as she did with our kids, she pulled all in attendance in and confirmed as equal to hers our roles in getting Becca through this. She even thanked us. To which we incredulously thought/replied wait a minute, you are thanking us?? I'm quite sure any objective observer would fairly call this a time for Dr. H. to be thanked, if ever there were such a time.

Our plastic surgeon took over right after Dr. H. and performed the tissue expander insertion. The tissue expander will remain in through radiation and then come out when Becca has reconstruction next year. It prevents the skin from healing to the breast wall, and, through periodic saline injections will gradually be expanded to force Becca's body to make additional skin, thus providing more to work with when it is time.

As you saw from the last post, we saw Becca that evening. I imagine seeing her there barely being able able to keep her eyes open was worrisome to some, but I had seen this state before. For both biopsies she had had enough la-la juice to render her in this exact same state. I knew she would be a new woman in the morning, and she was.

So we decided to do surgical strike, so-to-speak, with the kid visit the next morning. We already knew what Sammy in a hospital was like, so an hour would be plenty. And it turned out that traffic took a further 20 minutes off that. In the end even 40 minutes was too long:

Mommy can I watch you go to the bathroom? No. Mommy pleeease I wanna watch you go to the bathroom. No. Yes, mommy, I will. I'm watching! NO. Please please please can I watch?! NO. I wanna wanna wanna waaaaatch!! NO!!! moommmmyyy-yeh!!

Oh. My. God.

Needless to say, we left early. And the doctors ordered Becca another night at the hospital for rest. I think they were thinking of releasing her that day until the kids were put into the equation.

So that night she was put up on the 12th floor, where we were the last time Becca had an overnight. Quite a view. And ironically, she didn't sleep that well due to a noisy roommate and trying to play the hero with spacing out the tylenol doses. Well she learned her lesson. No more heroics. Tylenol every 4 hours. And time to come home.

So now she is home and we have set up her step aerobics steps so she can get herself up to the bed more easily (ours is rather high...). The kids have been very good about the no-climbing-on-Mommy rule and even Sammy is content to have an extended stretch of Daddy bedtimes (usually we switch off). I think we are all just so glad to have her back in the house and chatting, even if her range of movement is severely limited for a while. She will receive a visit from a nurse tomorrow to check the dressings and drainage, etc. Most of the apparatus she came home with will not be removed until our follow-up visit with the plastic surgeon toward the end of next week.

And I cannot end without thanking the veritable cast of thousands that helped us through these few days. Managing the kids at various times Wednesday were Popa Lee and Gwamma Sarah, Kathy, Jackie, and Popa John. Then Thursday the Sammy specialists were Carolyn and Erika; Stacy took care of Rachel, and Sherri jumped in for Jack. And Siobhan & Steve sprinkled in sweets (and drinks for Daddy) over the whole two days. The best quote of the day goes to Erika, who could not get Sammy on the phone to talk to Daddy because he was chasing a turkey. (The Medfield turkeys are fun to chase, especially for a turkey like Sammy...)

Thank you one and all!