Cirugía número dos

I had my ultrasound to review the two masses in my chest on February 15, 2017. I was extremely frustrated by the time I left the Foothills. The ultrasound tech was fantastic, although she seemed to talk to me about her friends drinking habits and how she doesn’t drink, for the entire hour and 45 mins I was there. I was on day 4 of my birthday hang over and just listening to her made me want to drink.

I highlighted the masses on my chest so it was easier to find, just like Dr. CTO said to do. And then I had this ultrasound doctor proceed to tell me 4 different results. 1) Nothing is here. 2) Oh its the edge of your implant. 3) No this is where your Major Pectoralis Muscle “drops off”. 4) It’s just fat.

Okay captain FKN Nimrod, which is it?? First off, you’re not allowed to tell me the results and last time I checked you are not an Oncologist of any sort. Thank you shit for brains. I mean, I appreciated the “results” but they did absolutely nothing for me. Thankfully my surgeons wonderful Assistant confirmed that these results were pretty inconclusive and she had scheduled me for follow-up to review for March 13. If my surgeon felt the results weren’t a big deal, she would call me and we would just discuss over the phone. Well the call never came.

I get to the foothills to find out my dear friend (another Previvor) was being admitted for her 11th reconstructive surgery. ELEVENTH!!!!! Is that not insane? This woman is beyond a warrior, she has had every possible complication with her reconstruction and she still pushes forward with her faith, her love for life, her kids, her husband and for the rest of us Previvors. She really is the saving grace for us women who are trying to decide on surgery or are having complications. Honestly, I met her almost a year ago and i wish I knew her before my first surgery. I don’t think I would have felt so alone had I known her then. So I am sitting there, at our “Tom Baker Cancer” clinic and in rolls my girlfriend, chill as a pill wearing a freaking ONESIE! I was so impressed. It wasn’t even PJ’s, it was a legit sweatsuit Onesie and she was rocking ugg’s and a messy ponytail/bun. One thing that gets us through our surgeries, is complete and utter inappropriate humour. Otherwise we ugly cry. She had her 11th surgery today and luckily things went pretty well considering her body rejected her expander implant.

So she sat with me until she was called for her room admittance and in I went to see Dr. CTO. We reviewed my ultrasound results and again, can’t confirm with their “findings” what these masses truly are. And thankfully my Dr is a no fluff kind of woman and she gives it to me straight, “I can remove the left one in your armpit, but its the one on your 2nd rib that I am concerned I can’t get too without major complications”. Yikes. Then, she says, “We have a surgery date for you. Call my admin and she will confirm for you the date and time, but I know we have a date because you have been on my mind a lot lately”. We joked about my Bali trip and the monkey that molested me. She read up on my blog and then off I went, back into the abyss of shitty Calgary drivers in rush to get to work.

I called the Admin and she emailed me this morning confirming that yes, my next surgery is scheduled for March 27, 2017….thats in 13 days. Panic ensues and I started scrambling trying to figure out how I am going to get to the hospital and who will take care of me and 1000 other questions running through my mind.

This surgery scares me. It scares me because I don’t know what these masses are, the risk for infection is much greater and the possibility of my body rejecting the new implants is higher. On top of it all I feel alone. When I had my first surgery on May 2, 2016, I had just broken up with my boyfriend of 3.5 years. I was moving into my own apartment and I was starting a new life, just my dog Finnigan and myself. But I knew that I had my ex there by my side. Even though he completely destroyed me by breaking up with me, he still took care of me and was there by my side for my surgery. It brought us closer. I was naive though. I thought we would get back together, and clearly that’s not the case as its been over a year since we broke up. It’s crazy how much we rely on another person to feel whole and worthy. To feel complete and strong. To believe we need them in order to conquer lives biggest obstacles. Obviously going into this next surgery would be so much easier if I had that significant other to take care of me and reassure me that I am beautiful not matter what and it will be okay. But at the end of the day, I am the only person who can confirm my strength, my worth, my beauty. The scars I have now, and the even bigger scars I’ll have don’t bother me. Peoples opinions don’t bother me either. Its people who bother me.

Either way, this surgery is happening whether I am emotionally ready for it or not. I just hope it goes smoothly and I can finally look forward to the next Chapter…NIPPLES!!!!!

The pictures below will show you where my complications are, the masses and the rippling, the aftermath bruising from physiotherapy on my chest.

 

Thanks for tuning in guys.

Lots of love and light,

Birdy

 

 

 

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Venting….or is it bitching?

So I have to apologize. I promised blog updates and advice on dating etc. But life has really kicked my ass lately. As soon as I feel myself taking a step forward, something knocks me 10 steps backwards. I don’t know what it is that gives me the will to constantly get back up, dust my self off and keep going, sometimes I wonder if I was some sort of warrior in a previous life…hahaha just kidding, that sounds ridiculous. But in all fairness, does the bullshit truly ever stop? Or do the dark gloomy clouds just part one day, the sun shining through, all fucks are gone and the path you’ve been creating finally has beautiful blooming flowers, puppies, new-born babies, money on trees and the beach…just waiting for you and endless amounts of calorie free craft beer…mmmm. One can simply dream right?

I feel my mind going crazy on me some days. Someone told me the other day that I looked fantastic and extremely happy. Well shit, this Clonazepam(Clonazepam is used to prevent and control seizures. This medication is known as an anticonvulsants or antiepileptics drug. It is also used to treat panic attacks. Clonazepam works by calming your brain and nerves. It belongs to a class of drugs called benzodiazepines)must really being doing its job. Because to be fair someday I feel like I’m walking on sunshine and others I could pack up Finnigan (the love of my life) hit the road and never look back.

On February 3rd, I watched my Step-dad have a complete left main occlusion, a major heart attack in front of my mother and me. At home. We literally just ate dinner and things were fine and the next thing I knew there was literally 11 EMS workers in our living room. The last time I experienced a situation like this was as a kid when I watched medics take my sister away after having such severe seizures she was unresponsive. This sort of thing sticks with you. I’m not sure if it makes me numb, but it taught me not to panic. Anyway, the stubborn ass survived the heart attack, thank F**K because I honestly don’t think I could handle losing him. He may be my step dad but he has always been a constant in my life and supported me in any decision I have made since I was 14 years old. That’s a pretty big blessing to have a man who is not your father or related to you by blood, be so wonderful.

My sister said to me as we drove home from visiting Kevin in the hospital that she was worried about me. She said that she watched me go through the worst year and that I had yet to crack. That I was like a loose blade of grass on the edge the cliff, swaying in the wind and she was just waiting for that strong gust, the one to push me off, take me away. I knew she didn’t mean me killing myself or anything, she was just telling me she was worried and scared for me.

I’ve always been strong and it usually take something incredibly devastating, or something to completely enrage me, to make me cry. But in that car ride I gave myself that 5 minutes to ugly cry. I needed to let it out. All that kept replaying in my mind was seeing Kevin’s white face and hands, soaked in sweat, being taken away in the ambulance and the social worker greeting us at the hospital with no update. I was ready to hear that he was gone, to hold my mom up when her knees collapsed. To try to piece things together when we would go home with out him. But we were lucky, he pulled through. I still can’t think about that night without choking up. How does one prepare themselves to lose and a loved one, to take the blow, for that blow not to come. It was the worst adrenaline rush I have had to experience thus far in life.

Right before this happened I was let go from my new oil and gas job, after being humiliated and bullied by another female co-worker for having my double mastectomy. I was not having a good week. Luckily, my childhood best friend and practically my sister, Erin, her baby daddy Brodie (great man) offered me my job back with his company. How was I so blessed? To have such forgiving and loving people in my life. Either way, please just know I love and appreciate you guys.

If you guys haven’t figured this blog posting is literally nothing but ramblings. So please bare with me, it’s just an update on my ridiculous life.

So all this goes on, I go on yet another HORRIBLE date with another asshole from Bumble and by then I’m just fed up. My birthday was coming up and I decided I was going to have an unforgettable night.

My besties went out of their way to make me feel special and loved. My Gato Cristina took me for a beautiful brunch and Kass surprised me at our hotel room with balloons, champagne, cupcakes and the most beautiful cookie with a letter written on it, . Yes you read that right, a cookie with a letter on it.Alicia sent me a sweet card in the mail and snapped and text to ensure I knew she was missing me while she was in NC.  We then proceeded out to dinner with more loved ones and then off to the bar. I finished my night with puking in the middle of the bar, on my girlfriends boots (I’M STILL SORRY) and two stalls down from one of my ride or dies. Finished er’ off with yelling at the doorman “You’re nothing but a doorman, DOOR MAN”, had my Sally (Patty I love you) get us hoe safely and proceeded to crawl into the bathroom at the hotel. I wont say it was the best birthday I  have ever had, but definitely the most memorable….err kinda.

Since then, I’ve been working, trying to be a good sister and organize my twins Bachelorette Weekend, order our bridesmaid dresses and see my family and friends as often as I can. All the while knowing my ultrasound for my chest was coming up and anxiously waiting the results…

This has been my February and March of 2017…I thought 2016 was over for crying out loud.

Tune in to my next posting, to hear about my ultrasound results.

Much love,

Birdy