Today was infusion day and 3 weeks post mastectomies. Other than a bit of a delay in getting started, completely uneventful.
We met with the oncologist who convinced us there’s enough evidence that I should not want to keep my ovaries. Timing for removal is sometime after radiation in the fall. Will force me into menopause. 44 is becoming a banner year. She was completely thrilled with my post-surgery pathology report and doesn’t want to see me for 3 months. 3 MONTHS! Good news.
Next we met with the surgeon’s assistant who checked the incisions, checked for swelling, gave me a prescription for physical therapy (with lymphodema focus – to help prevent / recognize) and doesn’t want to see me for 6 months. 6 MONTHS!! Additional, good news.
Next week we meet the radiologist and see what she says about getting started with that. Turns out radiology increases the risks of lymphodema since it’s going to be targeting lymphnodes – healthy ones and any compromised ones that may be left. I should get the green flag to start physical therapy next Friday, and the soonest radiation could start is 6 weeks post surgery, so I have a bit of a gap of time to get my act together on therapy and learn a thing or two about lymphodema in advance of radiation starting.
I’m still going to go to bat to post pone radiation until August, but it’s not sounding promising from most of my sources. It’s sort of the seal on the casket of my cancer. Making certain not one little cell is left behind.
My pain level is down to a 2 or 3. The hardest position to be in is laying flat. I’ve managed the side sleeping position without issue, but I’m also still sleeping with valium, which probably helps keep everything calm. I finally looked at the incisions and they look good, 1/4 inch wide scars. Because there are expanders, that make it look like I have breasts, my emotional state is sort of calm about the whole thing. I basically went from monster boobs to a solid A – but just for now. Next Friday they’ll start to fill them up – Miss Jeanne is coming with to see how that freak show works out. I am, indeed, a living science experiment.
Today is our last night of meal train, thanks Miss June, and I will uber miss it. The kids are heading to the beach with all my brothers, sisters and dad for a week. So next week will be work, quiet, doctors appointments and more quiet. A little something for everyone.
I’ll let you know what the radiologist says… and how the “filling-of-the-boob-balloons” works out. It’s ramping up to be a “winning” week.