Here’s the latest news: We went to see the Oncologist at the BC Cancer Center. It’s what we thought … they want me to do chemo + radiation. Ugh.
The pathology doesn’t lie. It’s a numbers game. On my Mother’s side of the family there is ovarian and colon cancer. On my Dad’s side of the family there is fallopian cancer. Add a dash of Ashkenazi Jew and what all that means is that my genetics are bad and the scariest part was that my tumor was going for it. I mean really going for it … it had moved into my lymphatic system and was starting to sprout legs.
We got to it just in time…
Because of all these bad genes and that the recurrence rate for me is high – I’m doing chemo. One of my readers Denise left this comment about chemo and I thought it perfectly explained why we decided to move forward with chemo:
“Cancer is like a dandelion plant that has gone to seed. Through surgery, they remove the dandelion plant. However, it is unknown how many seeds have spread throughout the body as the wind blows it where it wills. Chemotherapy is like the weed killer.”
But that’s not the big news. The big news is that I’m closing my store.
It’s been agony trying to decide what to do. I think I’ve cried more tears about closing my store then about all this cancer stuff but bottom line is I can’t manage it all.
This isn’t a decision I’ve come to lightly. I’ve had a lot of offers for help, for volunteers for fundraisers but here’s what it boils down to. I have 7+ months of chemo and 5 weeks radiation ahead of me and that takes me into 2014.
Sarah’s Place takes a lot of time and energy. There is SO MUCH that goes on behind the scenes that makes the store look effortless. I know it looks like I sit behind my desk and hang out with people all day… but if you had any idea of the work I do when nobody is around you wouldn’t volunteer to help. It’s a LOT of work.
And chemo is not just a day of chemo then a few days of feeling crappy … It’s check-ups and blood-tests and bone scans and picking up prescriptions and in between all the medical stuff I want to try and have a normal life where I can have time to do things for my body that promote health and happiness as well as to relax and to have fun with my husband and Fergus.
I just can’t manage it all …
When I went to therapy the other night to talk about my anxiety over whether or not to close the store – my therapist said something that made a light go off for me. “Do you want to spend your limited amount of energy resources you’ll have during your chemo experience – running around taking care of your store? Or do you want to use that energy to take care of yourself?”
Well … I choose me.
As much as I want this cancer story to be about how I triumphed over everything and showed the world how I can “do it all” despite the cancer … that’s not fair to me. It’s too much pressure.
I’ve spent so much of my life PUSHING things forward. Whether it be working on the cookbooks, the iphone app, doing websites for me or otherpeople, helping my husband run his tattoo shop, running my own shop. I NEVER STOP WORKING. Like ever. Even when I’m on holiday I’m usually doing something work related.
I’ve worked at a frenzied pace like this for too many years and it’s time to stop … Cancer is my chance to press the pause button and just focus on one thing. Me.
June 1st will be Sarah’s Place (the retail store) last day open. Please come shop at my store this week. Come buy my stock-up. The less stock I have to take home the better!! Either in person or online. I have many bills to pay and vendors to pay-out.
I will keep the online store going out of my house as best I can… If you live in Victoria use the code: SHOPLOCAL and your order will show as free shipping. It will then be processed and taken down to Tattoo Zoo (1215 Wharf Street) for you to pick up. If you live outside of Victoria – please shop online and I’ll pack it up and Gerry will post it in the mail for you the next day.
I wish I had better news for you guys. It’s a big fucking bummer … but there are some bright spots:
#2. Self-care. I am taking care of myself. Putting myself first. Being “self-full” is a good thing. I am using this time to focus on my body and my mental health and I will be able to be strong, present and ready for the task at hand.
#3. I’m not dying. This is preventative chemo – to make sure every last little cancer cell has been wiped out. I’m looking at it like a computer re-boot. We have to wipe my hard-drive of any trace of the virus so I can be re-started good as new.
#4. What a learning experience this store has been. And I’m already looking forward. Past the chemo. Already daydreaming about what’s after chemo. Whatever that is – I know it’s going to be amazing because of what I’ve learned from running Sarah’s Place the last couple years… but saying good-bye to this store is going to be really hard.
In July 2011 when I cut the ribbon and opened the doors to the public… I didn’t know what would happen. Would people come shop at this weird little boutique?
My nervousness quickly morphed into gratitude because as soon as I opened the doors – we were flooded with customers. I thought I’d get through my first year of business by the skin of my teeth but instead my store took off like a rocket and that’s because of you guys.
I can’t thank you all enough for your support. Sarah’s Place was an incredible success from the get-go because of your enthusiasm. I could not have done any of this without you.
I’m so proud of us.
I do also need to thank the staff at Market Square where my store is located. The people who run this complex are top-knotch and have been very supportive of me since the beginning. Big ups to them!!
So that’s the plan for now … I’m feeling bitter/sweet about having to close the retail store but knowing you’re all out there pulling for me makes me feel like I can do anything!
It was 4 weeks Tuesday since I had my surgery and I’m FINALLY feeling normal.
I think the 3rd week was the hardest. Partly because I went back to work and I found it really exhausting and partly because of my sensitive skin on my chest. Ugh. I can’t explain how uncomfortable it is.
I can palpate my skin with my fingers and I barely feel anything but if any clothing rubs me it’s like a wire brush brushed up against my skin. Even a breeze from my nose makes my skin hurt. It’s so weird. I went and bought some “balm” at the jogging store that helps joggers avoid chafing. It helped quite a bit. I also spray my “area” with Lydacain and try and numb everything. Plus the occasional ice-pack. Every day it’s a little bit better than the last …
I finally decided to start wearing a large band-aid over the scar area and that’s been the best way to avoid contact with my clothing. I want my scar to breath … so as soon as I get home it’s TOPLESS TIME at the Kramers.
I finally ditched my breast binder. It took a few days to get used to not wearing it … wearing it 24 hours a day for 3 weeks really gave me comfort. When your breast is removed you suddenly feel vulnerable. Plus the binder kept things in place. My surgeon wanted my scar to heal in a perfect straight line and it has. It’s a good-looking scar. I’ll show you soon.
I still wear my binder when I work-out. It keeps everything from jiggling .. better than my sports bra.
I FINALLY have enough energy to get back on my elliptical machine and it’s been awesome. It makes me feel SO much better to get my blood flowing, my lungs heaving and to work out some of the stress that I’ve been carrying around the last few months. I feel less fragile and more strong every day. I think my body is so stoked to not be fighting that tumor.
I also bought myself a new foam boob! It’s not my “official” boob but I’m not ready for one of those yet. My skin is too sensitive still and this foam boob gives me the shape I need without putting weight on my chest.
I think it looks pretty good. Gerry keeps having to ask me which one is the real one. Ha ha.
Your job (dear internet) is to make sure my boob isn’t in the wrong place. I went to work yesterday and realized that it was SO much higher then my left breast. ha ha. Whoops.
Also went for a couple of relaxing massages. Those released a lot of tension and I’ve even been feeling so normal that I even went on a motorcycle ride with Gerry the other night. We had so much fun riding around the water on Dallas Road. I actually got teary… it was a beautiful evening. All the trees are in bloom and the sky was so blue. I was overcome with so much gratitude.
So grateful for my life. For a loving husband. For Fergus. For all my friends. For all of you (yes you) and your support. It’s been a whirlwind of crazy …
The crazy cancer journey isn’t over yet – I have the meeting on the 15th with the oncologist to talk about their suggested treatment. So … there is more crazy coming.
Hey. I just want everyone to know … that I’m not following blindly what the BC Cancer Agency is telling me. I am doing research. I have an excellent naturopath who is supporting me through all this. I’m reading all the stuff you send me. I know ALL about Kris Carr (who doesn’t have breast cancer BTW) and I am weighing out all my options before we decide what route we take.
Well I went back to work on Monday and it almost killed me. Ha ha. I was so exhausted when I got home I was as weak as a kitten and could barely keep my eyes open during dinner.
I contacted my shop-girl Holly (who works for me 2 days a week) and asked if she wanted to come back to the store and she told me she could start the next day so thankfully I’ve had the last 2 days off to chill out and recharge my battery.
I’m feeling really unsure I can keep working at the store. This post-operative fatigue is really hard. It’s been 3 weeks (today) since my surgery and I still get pooped out so quickly. It’s like having Chronic Fatigue Syndrome again. Ugh. Enough already.
I thought I was ready to come back to work but I’m not sure I am. I’m going to work tomorrow (11-4) and see how I do …
I had a long talk on Monday with Shawna the RN at the Victoria Breast Health Center. She went over my pathology with me line by line and explained everything in full. She was fantastic. We talked about my upcoming appointment with my oncologist. It’s scheduled for May 15th and we will be talking about what they suggest for treatment. She told me to expect chemo. Everyone is telling me to expect chemo. Why? If they got it and the margins are good why the chemo? It’s preventative.
I’m young(ish) and they want to make sure they got every single cancer cell wiped out so I can live a long life. While what she is telling me is not set in stone … she does this for a living and sees a lot of woman come through her door. She says for someone my age and my type of cancer, etc etc … this is probably what I should expect.
I asked her how many sessions to expect and she said 6-8. So that’s a session every 3 weeks. So that works out to be about 5+ months of chemo. Plus she thinks I’ll probably have radiation since they found one lymph glad that was compromised.
So my summer is going to suck.
After I have my meeting with the doctor on the 15th I’m going to get my friend/hairdresser Leah to cut my hair short … so I can get used to having short hair again before it all falls out.
Please don’t write me that you’re going to shave your head in solidarity. I’m not stressed about losing my hair. We all know I have a good shaped cranium.
If you truly want to support me – shave off your eyebrows. When I think about losing my hair that’s what I’m the most stressed out about. Just kidding. Don’t do it. You’ll look craaazzzy!
I had a talk on Monday with the manager of my building at Market Square where my store is located. They are being wonderful and supportive and are encouraging me to stay open (with limited hours) while I do treatment but I honestly can not visualize what it will be like to be shitty from chemo and work at the same time.
I’m really struggling with the idea of keeping the store open while I go through this. My store is like a living plant. It needs water every day to grow … I won’t be able to do that if I’m sickly from the chemo. Ugh. I don’t know what to do. Holly has offered to work with me during my chemo schedule but I’m not sure what I’ll be like. Can I even do both?
Have any of you done chemo and worked? Give me the low-down. I think I’m more scared of the chemo then I was of the surgery/cancer. Is that weird?
The retail store which is located in Market Square (#106-560 Johnson) will be open limited hours this week (11-4) while I ease back into things but the online store is open 24 hours a day!!
For those of you who took part in the NiceShoes/Sarah’s Place Fork Cancer event: If you found an error in your order then please get in touch with me at firstname.lastname@example.org and include your Order Number in the e-mail.
**Please note that each order came with a FREE Mojave Crow’s Funeral CD so it was not a mistake that it ended up with your other ordered items.
Thanks to my landlords at Market Square for being so cool about me taking time off to deal with this cancer diagnosis/surgery and for being so supportive!
And a GIANT thanks to everyone who has supported me during this time by shopping at my store. It’s been a crazy whirlwind and I am so thankful for all of your love and support!
All my love!
Got my Pathology report yesterday. Here’s what we know:
Tumor was 3.5cm x 3.4cm x 2cm (yikes). No metastasis (meaning it has not spread).
Only 1 lymph node out of the 3 that were taken had cancer which means we caught it before it started to spread. (hooray)
That’s all I know for now. I thought I’d know more… But this appointment with the surgeon was to check on my surgical area (which is healing beautifully) and to give me a brief break-down on how things went and are looking.
Now we wait for the cancer doctor to get in touch so we can go over the pathology and talk about what they suggest for treatment. My surgeon does think they are going to recommend chemo …
I’m real frustrated cause I thought we’d know more from our appointment with the surgeon but he’s just “the cutter”. He’s not the cancer doctor.
What’s important to focus on today is that my scar is healing beautifully, my mobility is good and getting better every day. My cancer has been removed and it hasn’t spread.
I’m having a hard time being patient. I’m not a patient patient.
Two weeks ago today I had my surgery. This last week has been HARD. I actually think this week was harder then then first … probably because my mind is clear from all the morphine/anesthetic.
My surgeon took my drain out on Wed and said I was healing beautifully … I went home feeling liberated and so happy to be drain free. I iced the area on and off and took Tylenol when I got home and I woke up the next day a little sore (which I expected from the drain removal) and luckily that soreness went away in about 48 hours.
I won’t tell you how gross it was to have the drain removed … just that it felt like someone was dragging a wet noodle across the inside of my chest. *shudder*
What has made me miserable is my skin. The skin around my armpit is SO SENSITIVE!! I can feel all my nerve endings firing and re-connecting so there’s lots of pins and needles but the worst part is the sensitive sore skin in my pit. Miserable.
I have a little pillow that I put in between my arm and torso to help with chafing but I think wearing this breast binder 24 hrs a day plus all the nodes he removed from my armpit area have made me really sensitive.
So I’ve been laying around not moving which is probably not what’s good for me … but the skin in my armpit hurts so much that the only relief I get is if I lay perfectly still on the couch.
Fergus is JUST fine with all this laying around… in fact he often boxes me in on the couch making it impossible for me to get up. He’s the best nurse in the world.
Anyone else have sensitive skin after their mastectomy? Any tricks/tips I should know about? Right now I’m spraying lydocaine on my skin and that helps temporarily but I am wondering if there’s something else I could be doing??
I also started to do my rehab exercises this week (which probably also explains the sore skin).
I have pretty good range of motion. I can do almost everything they ask in the little exercise booklet they gave me except for snow angels.
I can lift my right arm as high as my shoulder but that’s it … it’s so tight across my chest. Ugh. But I know I just have to keep at it and things will start to stretch out.
I started to feel a little better yesterday and today I feel OK enough to put on real clothes!! Woot I’m actually dressed and today I’m going to run a couple easy errands with Gerry. See how that goes.
I still get fatigued quite easily and have to nap/rest often … so because of that I am delaying opening the store until Monday April 29th. It will be a soft opening. Probably limited hours until I get all my energy back but hopefully by Monday I’ll be raring to go.
Thanks to everyone who keeps sending me care packages … you gotta stop with all the chocolate!! Ha ha. I’m going to be as big as a whale if I eat all the treats you’ve sent me.
I get my pathology report on Friday. That will tell us everything we need to know about the cancer and what my future treatments are going to look like.
I want all of you to close your eyes for a second and think about how cute this magical unicorn is and how it’s healing happy superpowers will be with me on Friday.
I’m laying in bed – propped up by pillows and Fergus and I finally have some energy to reflect on my surgery. First off … it feels like a month since I had my surgery but it’s only been 7 days. Crazy.
Second. I don’t have any pain. I’m so thankful for that … I’ve had a few uncomfortable days but nothing a few Tylenol can’t chase away.
The day of my surgery we got up at the ass-crack of dawn to be at the hospital. There was lots of hurry-up and wait. We were very bored … but also very nervous. Thank goodness I had Gerry to there to joke around with.
The first thing they did was take me to a tiny room where they injected my breast with a blue dye that goes into my lympatic system. Breast cancer usually spreads first to the lymph nodes in the armpit area. These sentinel lymph nodes are the first to receive lymph drainage from the breast and are also the most likely nodes to contain cancer if it has spread.
The dye helps the surgeon see the lymphatic system and they also inject you with a tracer containing a small amount of radioactive material. The tracer travels through the lymphatic channels and to the lymph nodes. The surgeon uses a handheld Geiger counter to identify radioactive lymph nodes and where the cancer has traveled … Radioactive lymph nodes, blue lymph nodes and any lymph node that feels abnormal are be removed at the time of sentinel node biopsy. If you’re interested you can read more about it HERE. It’s where I lifted some of the info above.
I had 4 nodes removed during surgery. My surgeon said 2 needed to go. The third was taken as a precaution and the 4th one he wasn’t sure about but once it was removed he realized it actually had pink dye in it .. which meant it had a little bit of ink from my chest tattoo. ha ha. So he didn’t need to remove that last one after-all but I say better safe than sorry.
After the dye was injected we went to hang out in the Pre-Op holding room. That’s where they got me ready for surgery. My nurse was great – I told her that I had difficult veins to poke (remember how many times I got stuck when I had my colonoscopy?)
She wrapped my arm in hot blankets and then she stuck me with the needle first try. I said to her “Gold star!” and she laughed. She then told me that “…she says a little prayer to God every time she does a needle stick and that God always knows where the veins are and she never misses.” Whatever works!
Gerry and I hung out for a bit and then it was time to go … Gerry asked if he come come hang out with me in the waiting area before I went in to surgery but they wouldn’t let him so we had a hug and a kiss and I was wheeled away. I wasn’t nervous in the slightest. Isn’t that weird …? I think I was just ready. I was actually more nervous for poor Gerry who now had to wait for hours to find out how I did.
As I was being wheeled away the nurse said to me “Don’t forget to talk to your body during surgery…” I was like “ok” but I didn’t really understand what she meant.
They wheeled me into a holding area (a hallway) and pointed me towards the wall beside another guy. I guess we were pointed towards the wall so we couldn’t see into the operating rooms? I dunno. It was weird.
We both had paintings at the end of our beds and I said to him “I like your painting better than mine” and then we both started chatting about what we were in for. He was getting his knee fixed. We talked about movies for a while and then they took him away.
I was alone. Ugh. I was nervous. More nervous than I thought … so I decided to take that nurses advice and talk to my body. I did 4 deep breaths in a square. I used the picture frame as a way to help keep me on track. One deep breath in for 4. Hold for 4. Deep breath out for 4. Hold for 4. I did this 4 times … It helped a lot. Centered me. Kept me from floating out of my body. I wanted to be present for my conversation.
“Dear Body. Thank you for being healthy. I know right now we have cancer but we are going to cut it out today. It’s not going to be easy but I know we are going to be ok because I take good care of you. You are a strong vegan superstar with magical unicorn healing powers. We can do this.”
Then I had a little talk with my cancer:
“Dear Cancer. We’ve only known about you for a few weeks and while you brought a lot of fear with you – you also brought me a lot of love. Thank you for showing me how much my family and my friends love me. I’ve always known they loved me but your arrival really showed me how unconditional their love truly is.
Cancer, thank you for showing me how much impact I’ve had on other people. Even people I’ve never met. Because of you I have had an avalanche of love and support from my fans/customers. They’ve shared stories with me and told me how my books and my work has touched their lives. It’s been a really humbling experience and I am so grateful.
One last thing Cancer… We are cutting you out of our lives today because you are not wanted or needed here anymore. You have overstayed your welcome and it is time for you to go. Please leave without a fuss. I promise to remember all the good things you’ve brought me. Now begone with you…”
As soon as I finished my little conversation with myself my anesthesiologist showed up on cue (like he knew I had finished) and asked me a few medical questions. My surgeon came by and gave me a little pep-talk before we went into the operating room. I asked him to draw on my right breast with a pen before we started … I wanted to make sure he took the correct one.
As I was wheeled into the operating room I said “Good morning everyone. Please give me all the drugs!” One of the nurses laughed and said “all the drugs?” I said “Yes please. I don’t want to remember any of this …”
I then asked my surgeon if he listened to music while he operated. He said “Yeah. Can’t you hear it? We’re listening to Nora Jones right now.”
“Nora Jones? I was expecting to hear AC/DC or Led Zepplin 4. You’re wearing a John Deere Scrub hat for God’s sake. Where’s the RAWK and ROLL?”
And then I was out …
Woke up in the recovery room. It’s a bit of a blur. I kind of like the recovery room … It feels like that ethereal place between dreams and consciousness. At home I always try to stay there as long as I can but it’s always fleeting. In the recovery room it goes on forever…
I remember lots of dreamy conversations with the nurse about how I’m feeling. At some point a cold cloth was put on my head and I told her I thought she was wonderful. Ha ha. I also remember hearing the nurses telling a patient to calm down because he was flailing around trying to remove his tubes. I’m pretty sure it was the guy who was getting knee surgery but I was pretty high.
Next thing I knew I was being wheeled down the hall and into an elevator. I closed my eyes for the whole thing … all the movement was making me sick.
Gerry says he saw me wheel by and that I was having a normal conversation with the orderly about tattoos. I don’t remember any of that. I do remember them putting me into my bed and Gerry coming in and then it’s a blur of sleeping and waking up and more sleeping.
At one point Gerry said to me “You have to talk to this woman on the phone and tell her you’re alive“. I was like … “huh? Hello?”
It turns out our SunLife Insurance agent was calling to make sure I had survived my diagnosis. With our critical illness insurance you have to survive 30 days after diagnosis in order to get your payout. I guess the day of my surgery was my 30 day mark. She said she just needed to confirm with me that I was Sarah Kramer. I laughed and said “I’m pretty sure I’m Sarah Kramer but I’m very high on morphine.”
The reason she didn’t want to wait till after the surgery was she was going on holiday and it would delay our cheque. So even thought it was a weird conversation I appreciate that she pushed everything through.
Later in the evening they brought me dinner. It was a vegan lentil dahl with quinoa, steamed broccoli and steamed butternut squash. I was pretty impressed … but as soon as I smelled the food I almost threw up.
Going under always makes me pretty sick. Gerry said my face was pale and gray for a few hours after surgery. I took a bite of the squash and almost threw up … I did everything I could not to throw up. I know it might have made me feel better but I was worried about pulling my bandages and I also didn’t want to barf while my roommate was eating her dinner. That would be rude.
I took DEEP deep breaths and it passed. Then Gerry got me a gingerale and I drank that, burped like a sailor and I was able to start eating. I only ate the squash. The rest was too much …
Gerry and I packed a picnic the night before so I drank my Green Smoothie and we nibbled on sandwiches as well as apples and celery. I slowly started munching on my food and with eat bite I started to feel better and better. I’m sure the belching helped too.
The nurses took me off my IV pretty quick (probably because I drank my weight in ginger-ale and was peeing like a racehorse). They all kept remarking on how well I was doing. I was up and walking around in the evening and they all thought it was amazing. I guess that’s not the norm.
At one point in the evening I wanted to eat an apple and Gerry was like “Oh no. We didn’t bring a knife for the apple!” I was like “We are so dumb. What are we going to do?” Then it dawned on me … what the F do we need a knife for? I had breast surgery. Not teeth surgery. We laughed so hard about that one … what a couple of weirdos. My excuse is I was on morphine. What’s Gerry’s?
The night nurse came in and she was awesome… she let Gerry stay until 10pm and after he left she said to me “He seems like a lovely caring man.” She’s right.
The evening was uneventful. They gave me an Ativan and it put me into a sleepy slumber. I also brought with me my own pillow, eyecovers and earplugs. I didn’t hear anything until about 6:30am when the nurse came to check on me. I slept well and all the color had come back into my face. Hooray!
The morning was kind of fun. I was feeling ok and now only taking Tylenol for pain. My roommate was a spunky woman named Alice in her mid-80′s and I pulled back her curtain so we could talk. We talked about EVERYTHING. Her family. Her bladder. How sorry she was I had to have a mastectomy but that she could tell I was fiesty like her and that I would be just fine. I gave her a big kiss when I left to go home and I wished her luck with her surgery. I love you Alice!
My surgeon came to see me in the morning and he told me it was a good thing we got to my tumor when we did. It had grown to be about Tennis Ball size. WTF? Thank goodness I didn’t wait to do reconstruction … I see him again in two weeks to get my pathology report. That report will tell me what we are dealing with and what my treatment will be. Almost everyone at the hospital is telling me to expect chemo. Le sigh.
On the way home I was feeling well enough that we stopped by London Drugs to fill my prescription and we stopped by a medical supply place to get my breast binder. The breast binder is worn for 2 weeks to keep everything from moving around too much. My surgeon says he gets great results with it and it helps heal the scar straight.
Got home. Got settled on the couch. Had a long nap.
My Dad and my Auntie Bonnie came to visit me. I felt like I was pretty sober when they were here but in retrospect I actually don’t really remember the visit. Ha ha. I guess they were right about me being legally impaired for 24 hours after the surgery.
I went for a walk with Gerry and Fergus before bed. It felt good to walk around (and they actually suggest you start moving right away to promote healing). I feel pretty fragile when I’m out side. In the house … I’m me. But outside the house I feel like a porcelain doll and I’m so afraid someone is going to bump into me. A skateboarder rolled past us on the sidewalk and I was so afraid. Hopefully that feeling will pass once I get my strength back.
This week has been a lot of napping and Fergus is loving it!
Snacking. Napping. Walking. Napping and a few visits here and there. My parents came to see me. My friend Ann (who is a nurse) comes every other day to change my dressing and thankfully I am not as much of an invalid as I thought I would be. I can put my hair up in a ponytail and shave my legs. Wahoo!
I can do almost everything except cut things with a knife. The pushing down action of that is too difficult right now … but I think once the drain is removed it will get easier.
The drain is the worst part. I have almost no pain but the drain is a bit uncomfortable. It drains fluid from the surgical area and every day I have to empty it and write down how much fluid comes out. It’s been going down steadily everyday and I get to have it removed TODAY!! I’m so happy. I’m sure once it’s out I’ll feel so much better.
Gerry took a week off to take care of me. He and Fergus have been amazing … both have taken excellent care of me.
Fergus has been especially charming this week … I think he knows I need a good laugh.
This happened the other day and I almost pee’d myself…
I’ve had a lot of requests for visits but I haven’t seen many people yet but that’s because I’m pretty exhausted. Even thought I have no pain and I can walk around the house and do things … fatigue hits me pretty hard and fast and then I need to lay down and sleep.
Visits will come later … for now I need to be chill.
Oh. Lastly. I’ve looked at my “space” (as we’ve been calling it) in the mirror and I’ve touched my chest when I’ve showered. I keep waiting to be torn-up about only having one breast but it hasn’t happened yet. It doesn’t even look that weird to me. Gerry said the other night “You are still you. I thought you’d look weird with your breast missing but you don’t. You’re just you.”
And he’s right. I’m still me.
Thanks to everyone for all the love. I feel it. I’m taking it in and I’m using it for energy to heal my body. Keep sending it my way.