This was me 2 years ago today. I was 3 weeks out from finishing my really strong chemo treatments – and having my biggest surgery to date, DIEP flap reconstruction. Because it was COVID, this surgery was deemed as elective (I’ll never understand how a cancer surgery of any kind fell under that designation) and I had to have it done in a surgery center instead of a hospital. Insurance would only pay for me to stay 23.5 hours. Don had to drop me off at the door that morning and go home – no waiting room, no staying with me for pre-op, no meeting me in recovery. I walked in alone for an 11 hour surgery with just my phone and a change of clothes. I had 2 surgeons, 2 anesthesiologists, and a huge team of nurses that were angels that day and truly gave me my life back.
I remember waking up in recovery – the nurses checking each breast with a doppler to make sure that blood was flowing. This was something that happened every 30 minutes until I left for home. As soon as I would doze off, it would be time to check them again. I was too asleep from the anesthesia to speak or even open my eyes, but I could hear the nurses talking about how they couldn’t get my heart rate to come down. I tried my best to calm my breathing and completely relax hoping that would help. It didn’t.
Because it was during the height of Covid (July 2020), I wasn’t allowed to have anyone with me. My husband begged the doctor to let him stay or even meet me in recovery, but he simply couldn’t let him in. Then, still so sleepy, I heard Don’s voice … followed immediately by “Oh, her heart rate is coming down.” I assume he wore the doctor down! That coupled with the fact that I was the only patient staying the night made it a little easier to show some grace and let him visit with me for an hour. I was so grateful.
There are two things that I’ll always remember about this day/time:
1. It’s my grandmother’s birthday. She loves me more than anyone else in this world. And, I distinctly remember thinking – I can’t die on her birthday. As morbid as that is, I honestly believe that so much of surviving during these times is pure willpower.
2. The recovery for this surgery was intense, absolutely horrible – it was every single day of 6 weeks. But, the reason I had the surgery on this date was because it was 6 weeks out from the first football game of Avery’s senior year. I was determined to not miss a single football game or contest his final season … and I didn’t.
Here’s my take away from this: Here I stand, two years later, and I’m the best version of myself that I’ve ever been. Sometimes life hands us situations that can easily be viewed as a death sentence or the worst thing that you can imagine. As cliché as it is, you really do have two choices: sink back or fight. Rally your troops, let people help you (the hardest for me), and push on! Your best days are ahead of you – I’m living proof of that.
