Funny, The Things You Talk About After 10 Years

This weekend is my family’s ten year anniversary. We drove to Denver to pick up my son from his summer visit to Minnesota and Georgia, and it was so wonderful to see him and have him home. He’s still not as tall as I am, but it’s probably just a matter of days before he looms over me.

Last night, while still having some time alone, Jon and I were able to reminisce on our past. What did we talk about? Our first meeting? Our first date? Our wedding? Nope. We talked about the days immediately following my mastectomy.

Sound strange? Not so much, since we haven’t talked about it all that much. Sure, he reads my blog, and he knows that this journey has opened a new chapter in my life, and of course he sees the ways I have changed since surgery. But we rarely talk about the actual event, and the days that followed.

I have learned from my dear friends that have had these same surgeries that my recovery was much worse than most. Many of my friends were online the night of their surgery, feeling like talking. Heather could even scratch her head (it took me over 2 weeks to do that). I don’t know if it was because I left the hospital with over 25occ’s of fluid already in my expanders, or if it was because of a reaction I had to some of my pain meds, but I ended up in the hosptial for 5 days instead of just 2. Then a blood clot 1 day later had me back in ICU for 2 more days.

I remember VIVIDLY the pain of the blood clot, and even worse, I remember the hosptial staff that didn’t know how to handle a patient that just had their chest muscles cut apart. I have had an adventurous life, and have had some awful things happen to me in my life, but that day in the ER was without a doubt the worst day of my life.

But I don’t remember very much about the 5 days after my surgery. It seems like it was all very clear when I came home, but now, 6 months later, I remember very little. I didn’t know that I cried when I moved. I don’t remember Jon crying at my bedside. I don’t remember talking to anyone on the phone, but I do remember that my only two visitors (aside from Jon and Jamie) were women. THAT is very funny. Men stayed away. I do remember when my bandages were removed, and that Marcy was there, and that she said my chest looked better than she expected. It was over 7 days before I looked at myself, either by looking down or in the mirror. I couldn’t face my new body. I remember being very worried about my face on pain meds, and that I kept saying that I didn’t want to look like my mom. I had seen my mom after many awful surgeries, and was worried that I looked as painful and sick as she did. I was very worried about looking like that in front of Jamie. Ironically, I remember the leg squeezer things that were supposed to keep away blood clots was constantly lose, and that I kept asking people to put them back on because I was afraid I was going to get a blood clot in my leg. Surprise!

But if I didn’t know I was in the hospital for 5 days, it would only seem that I was there for a day or two.

It was good to talk about it, to talk through it now that I’m pretty much on the other side. It’s a strange way to spend my anniversary, but kind of fitting since 10 years is kind of an end of an era. My life, and my family’s life has changed so much this year, and bigger changes are on the way soon. I feel at peace with my body now, and with what I’ve gone through, and what is on the way next. The last 10 years have been an adventure, and then next 10 should be even better!

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