Having surgery and removal of lymph nodes

Telling my son was the hardest part. I left it until two days before the surgery. I seriously thought about not mentioning anything until it was over, but I realized that if anything should go wrong he might feel betrayed or angry. I wrestled with the question, “Is omission the same as lying?” I’m pretty sure I have never lied to him and I hope I never will. Omission could also be defined as protection - I wanted desperately to protect him. In the end, I decided to be straight but simple; keeping it about what is and not venturing into what might be.

I rehearsed something along the lines of, “I’ve got something to tell you, but I don’t want you to worry…” It sounded stupid as everyone worries when a sentence starts with I don’t want you to worry. “We need to talk…” is equally threatening. I can’t remember how I started it, but I know it took three attempts to get the words out of my mouth. I went to speak but choked with emotion each time. He sat calmly, watching me with soft eyes and staying free of expression or interruption. I loved him for that; it said “take your time, I am fully present and supporting you.”

When I did speak, he held my gaze and encouraged me to keep talking until it was all out. He didn’t say much more than, “Will you be okay?” I felt like I had thrown something ugly or dirty into his world and he had responded by wiping it off and letting me know that it was all taken care of. Quiet, understated strength – how classy!

He drove me to the hospital at 6am. I was calm and chatted to other patients as we waited to be signed in. By 8am I was back at the mammogram department to have the hook-wire inserted. The procedure was similar to the last one, but this time I had taken a Panadol, which made a lot of difference to my comfort. The staff were more considerate and interactive this time and that also helped. I was back on the table with the whole in the centre and my breast was back in the vice again. I was given a local aesthetic and the needle gave only a slight sting. Two thin wires were inserted into the area where the calcium deposits were. Where the wires cross is the area the surgeon will excavate. The mammogram took about 1/2hour as the measurements need to be exact and a number of angles need to be taken. Between takes a nurse rubbed my shoulder and spoke softly to reassure me.

I was then taken to another area to have dye injected into the lump and then more mammograms were taken and measured. (Normal mammograms not the one with the vice) This is to show the surgeon which lymph nodes are the most likely ones to take up any cells if they have moved outside of the tumour. The big prayer is that all the nodes will come back clear. This procedure was mildly uncomfortable, but the girl was gentle and considerate and kept me informed throughout.

I was then taken back to the admissions area and sat with about 30 other people waiting for surgery. My op was booked for 1.30pm, so I was lucky that I had been allowed to have a light breakfast before 6am and fluids up until 10am. Many in the waiting room had not been allowed to eat or drink from midnight and they were now becoming quite grumpy and impatient. Having a theatre booked at a public hospital is an estimated time only as the emergency department has priority. Some people waited there all day and were told about 4pm that they would not get in until the next day. My surgeon sent someone to let me know that he was also waiting and that he estimated it would be around 3pm before were would get in. By 4pm I was taken to a room and someone else came up to say that Ming was prepared to come back and do the op at 8pm.

I was wheeled down to theatre, had a mask put over my face and told to breathe deeply… it was goodnight Sonya.

I was back in my room by 10pm feeling alert, hungry and thirsty. I was in no pain at all and chatted happily with two other patients as I ate sandwiches and drank tea.

The nurse woke me at 6am and asked if I wanted to pee. “Why on earth would you wake me up to ask me to pee?” (Like I wouldn’t have done so, on my own accord, in my own time.) She explained that I needed to pee as I needed to pee out the blue dye within a certain time. I was really annoyed with her and argued that as she had woken me up she should make me a cup of tea. She argued that breakfast was not until 8am. It became mildly tense between us before we agreed that I would pee and she would tea.

I felt really good, no pain; just a mild tightness and a little discomfort with a drip hanging off me. That is, a thin plastic hose was inserted into the wound so that lymph fluid could be drained down into a plastic container which was clipped to the bottom of my shirt. It was later explained that a nurse would come to my home each morning to measure and empty the container, which looked like a plastic CD case. Apparently, years ago, people needed to stay in hospital for days just for this one reason. Someone sensible decided it would be better and cheaper to send people home and have nurses do a daily round to clean and dress wounds and measure fluids. I was able to leave hospital the day after surgery.

Mary, Ming’s assisting doctor, came to tell me that all had gone well and that the main lymph node had come back clear. The other nodes would take a few days to be tested, but this was the best news as it was the most likely node to have picked up cells if any had spread. Relief swept over me and I realized I was breathing again. When my sister showed up you could almost hear us sing lah, lah, lah, like the little pig did in the movie Babe. I wanted to dance across the lawn and twirl in a full skirt. By 11am we were sitting in a trendy restaurant having a big breakfast and laughing. What a beautiful day. The people were friendly, the food was terrific, the location and buildings and cars and street noise – all of it – Magical!

When I finally got to see the damage, I was amazed at how clever Ming was and how lucky I was. Almost no swelling or bruising and only small thin wounds up near the armpit. I could feel a small dent about the size of a finger print, but couldn’t see anything other than that. Ming said later, that he had taken about one and a half inches of tissue, but he must have been very skilled to get that without disfiguring me. I healed very quickly and the drip bag was taken off in 4 days instead of a week. By the end of the week, the wound was so clean that I stopped applying adhesive bandages. The left breast was back to normal, the right breast was still a bit stiff and tight but good enough to manage my physiotherapy with relative ease.

I am so lucky, so grateful and so happy. I feel like I have been given ‘a get out of jail free card’. I’m alive and loving it and life goes on. I can now admit to myself that I have been scared. I have been so focused on getting through this, without allowing fear to trip me up, that I can almost melt from letting myself relax.

Sonya Green www.reinventingmyself.com