Last week I met with my breast surgeon and she gave me the
“official” report that no cancer was detected in my pathology reports. I
already knew this because I emailed the office a week prior and my nurse gave
me the condensed version. All that chemo I had endured, all those days and
nights of prayers and pleading, all the fundraisers and shows of support…all
for this day…this big announcement. I am cancer free! Woo Hoo! Why didn’t it
feel so Woo Hoo though? Maybe because I’m just exhausted? Maybe because I’m
afraid to take that sigh of relief for fear that I might jinx things?
Or maybe it’s because these gosh-forsaken tissue expanders
are so uncomfortable and horrible that my every thought is skewed because it’s
surrounded by pain. Pain is a hard word for me. They give you these “pain
scales” 1-10. I hate those. Is this as bad as the pain I had at the beginning
of my diagnosis when I threw my back out? Is this as bad as the headache I had
after the first Neulasta shot? Is this as bad as the pain I had in my legs
after the Taxol? Hell.if.I.know. Yes, it seems worse. It seems worse because
this is what I’m currently going through. You know the rubber band they put
around your arm to make your blood vessels pop so they can stick you? Or the
way the blood pressure cuff squeezes your arm until you can hardly stand it?
That’s how I currently feel in my breasts 24/7. Combine that with a feeling of
sunburn—sometimes I feel hot, sometimes chills—just like a sunburn does. I am
super sensitive to cold and hot things that I drink because I feel it more
pronounced than ever before when it’s going down. The last time I got an
expander fill up, my muscle literally jumped in my left breast! The nurse could
see it! And it hurt.like.hell. And for that entire day, I felt like I was
having a heart attack. True story. I had the most terrible pain in my chest
that day and I’m sure it was muscle related but it was terrible. And then
there’s this other feeling. It’s so hard to describe. I guess it’s akin to the
“phantom” pains they describe, but the best way for me to describe it is like a
feeling of anxiety except it’s in your breasts. You may not have anxiety, but
all of us have experienced some sort of anxiety from time to time and you know
that weird sort of tingly, butterfly-like, yet kind of dull constant pang that
you get when you are on your way to a job interview or a blind date or any
number of anxiety inducing situations? Yeah, well I feel that in my chest
constantly. I take Ativan for muscle “spasms” but I wouldn’t say I have ever
had a muscle spasm as in a jumpy, spasm-y type way but rather, my “spasms” are
more like when I had a horrible pain in my back a couple of years ago and had
to go to Med Express and he could actually feel a knot in my lower back and he
said your muscle is “in spasm.” That’s the feeling I have had since August 10.
I had pain meds that I took in the beginning and please forgive me if I texted
you or called you and said something ridiculous that first week Ha! I was loopy
and should not have been allowed access to any means of communication! Ha! I
went back through and found where I had emailed my nurse at the breast clinic
and I had absolutely no recollection of that! The email was totally fine and
grammatically correct I might add, but zero memory of it. Everybody who came
over to visit, I showed them my boobs. And they were totally gross with the
stitches and the glue and bandages still there and then my drain tubes hanging
out my sides and I was flashing my boobs like somebody was throwing beads to me
on Bourbon Street
at Mardi Gras. Gaaah. No wonder people get hooked on pills. Talk about
releasing your inhibitions! Whew! I’m off the good stuff and I’m strictly on
OTC plus the Ativan for the spasms (which I don’t actually think is really that
effective but I try to convince myself that it is.)
When I had my mastectomy, tissue expanders were put in. I
posted a video explaining the tissue expanders on Facebook the other day but
basically they are like a balloon or an IV bag that’s really tough and has a
port inside of it that is accessed and saline is put in on a weekly basis. You
can actually sit there and watch the breast inflate as they are putting the
saline in. It is totally wild. And not uncomfortable believe it or not…until I
have checked out, gone down the elevator from the fourth floor, and am walking
out the main door and then BAM! Omg I feel like my boobs are going to literally
EXPLODE! I say that every time I walk out the door. It seriously feels as if
someone would poke me with a straight pin that my boobs would blow up like
something you would see on some twisted adult cartoon. Ha! Pain. Yes. Lots of
pain.
I naively thought that this would be the so-called “easy
part.” I thought the hard stuff was behind me. Turns out it’s all hard stuff. I
can’t do the 1-10 pain scale because I don’t know. Pain is relative. This might
not be as bad as something I have already gone through or something I am going
to go through in the future but right now as I am going through it, it is all
consuming. It’s a solid 7. It’s not crippling. I can function in the world but
there’s never a time that I forget that I’m in pain. There’s never a time that
I don’t feel like I have bowling balls under my arms. Oh yeah, I forgot that
part. On the arm that they took the seven lymph nodes, I am numb on the
underside of my arm to my elbow. When I put my deodorant on every morning—can’t
feel a thing. And then there’s the range of motion thing. My right arm is
almost back to normal but my left arm isn’t. When I reach really far with my
left arm, I hurt all the way to my wrist. I have been doing exercises to try to
regain my range of motion but for now, it sucks. My husband wanted me to turn
the ceiling fan on the other night and I honestly couldn’t do it. I couldn’t
reach that far.
Ok, back to what I was saying. Pain is relative. Yes. I
started thinking about how the same is true in our lives. Whatever it is that
we are going through at this moment (when it’s stressful and hard) seems like
the worst possible thing that has ever happened to us in the history of the
worst possible things that have ever happened to us. Divorce—10 on the pain scale! Financial problems—10! Illness—10!
Addictions—10! Death of loved ones—10!
Depression—10! Ingrown toenail—10! Raising teenagers—10!
Whatever season of bad stuff that you might be in at this
moment or that moment seems like the worst at that particular time. I’m not
sure if I have a point here…I’m still waiting for it to come to me! Haha!
I guess my point is that when you get through things and you
look back on them, the pain scale reduces from where it was. When we feel like
we can’t possibly endure another day, look back through your life and think about the
things you HAVE endured and know that you CAN endure whatever hardship you are
currently going through. What seems like a 10 on the pain scale right now (and
it very well may be) will lessen with time. Better days will come and those
better days will be even sweeter because of the hard days we have endured.
John 16:33 says something like this…
I have told you these things, so that in me you may have
peace. In this world you will have trouble (like a freaking 10 on the pain
scale!) But take heart! I have overcome the world.
I’ll never be perfect (not even close) and my life will
never be pain free or exactly the way I plan it or want it, but I do know I will never have to walk
it alone.
