Days 7,8,9: Will I Be Able To Wipe My Own Butt After DIEP Flap Surgery? #breastcancer #breastcancerawareness

Posted on by caspeakman
#breastcancer Days 7,8 and 9: It's the Little Things - Will I Be Able To Wipe My Own Butt After DIEP Flap Surgery?

It’s odd how different things are important to each person.

As I spoke with survivors about their experiences with the different types of surgery, reconstruction and chemotherapy, there was one big question that loomed in my mind regarding the first couple of weeks at home after surgery –

Would I be able to wipe my own butt?

I know, it seems like a silly thing to think about. It might even be a little bit of displacement behavior on my part, diverting attention from the big issues to something that on the surface is trivial. Let me put it in context for you:

In 2011 I had neck and spine surgery spending most of the year in one or more braces. If the body braces weren’t bad enough, I had one additional small complication – the pressure on my spinal cord prior to surgery was so severe that it resulted in permanent nerve damage. I had partial paralysis of both arms for the first few weeks after surgery.

It was then that I realized there are some basic day to day necessities that no one talks about when you’re getting ready for surgery and signing the huge stack of forms and disclosures. How you will be getting in and out of bed, feeding the dogs, and showering to trying to read your smart phone with progressive lenses when you can’t move your neck. Think that last one should be easy? Try it, the effort drove me crazy (okay, crazier).

But the butt was the single most important thing that I failed to prepare for. There is nothing quite like the first time you are in the bathroom and it hits you that you have to pull the help cord to have one of the nurses come wipe you.  Truly horrifying. I decided then and there that my personal milestone for being able leave the physical rehabilitation facility and go live alone at home was WIPING MY BUTT!

I have learned from my mistakes! That is STILL my main criteria for being home during any recovery phase and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t play into my decision on the type of reconstruction I wanted.

Option 1: Mastectomy / no reconstruction or delayed reconstruction – one night in the hospital, go home taped up in a surgical bra with a drain, big scar, can always be covered with beautiful tattoos

Option 2: Mastectomy / Immediate Reconstruction (DIEP Flap) – 8-10 hour surgery, four or five days in the hospital, go home with a surgical bra over taped up chest, hip to hip slice across abdomen plus tape & surgical corset, four drains, can’t be alone 24/7 for the first one to two weeks, can’t drive for several weeks. Its an investment in time and endurance.

Option 3: Mastectomy / Immediate Reconstruction (Implants) – shorter, more simple surgery and easier recovery

I seriously underestimated the amount of assistance that would be needed after surgery and for how long. I have a lot to think about between now and my appointments with the general surgeon and the plastic surgeon next week.

Now don’t worry friends, whatever I decide I’ll have a contingency plan so that none of you will be faced with a full moon after I get home.

Just curious – if you don’t or didn’t have a spouse to help you in a situation like this, WHO in your circle WOULD YOU ASK to WIPE YOUR BUTT?

Day 6: Meet and Greet: My Chemo Doc Has The Same Name As A Disney Villain

Posted on by caspeakman

Day 6: It Gets Real

Today I met with the Oncologist/Hematologist who will be in charge of my chemotherapy. As I write that sentence it seems surreal that it is about me. At least until I look at my Doctor’s name and I realize that once again the universe is showing that it’s warped sense of humor is even more twisted than mine.

Dr. Jaffar

I swear it’s true. Except for the extra “f” my chemo doc has almost the same name as the villain in Aladdin.

Fortunately that’s where the similarity ends.

The very first thing he did was pull out my reports and go over them with me line by line explaining in detail what the different terms meant in this context, the purpose and results of each test, and how all of those things related to my care plan options.

Breaking it down further:

Infiltrating Mammary Ductal Carcinoma – means that the nasty critter that has decided to camp out in my boob didn’t like his original camp site, so he’s poking around hunting for places to take up permanent residence, maybe even build a vacation home. Unfortunately for me, he’s doing this in my body rather than heading for Tybee Island or the Hamptons. I won’t know until after my surgery if he’s actually poured a foundation anywhere else or if he’s just still shopping around for the perfect view. By the way, I’ve named my tumor Floyd. The name fits how I mentally picture him. We name hurricanes so why not our tumors? Both things have the potential to wreak havoc and take lives.

Size – Floyd was about 20mm at the time of the biopsy so he’s right on the edge between T1 and T2 tumor classifications. The only catch is that he pitched his tent next to my chest wall. If some of that connective tissue is involved then it will push me into T4 territory. So here’s hoping Floyd isn’t into climbing walls!

Hormone Receptors – Estrogen – Positive; Progesterone – Negative; HER2 – Negative – Floyd likes the taste of estrogen but isn’t a fan of the other hormones. What this means is that the presence of estrogen boosts Floyd’s growth, so by utilizing certain hormone therapies we can cut off his estrogen gravy train and try to starve him out, reducing his growth potential. These findings narrow down which drugs will be most effective in fighting any mini-Floyds that try to hang on after the surgery.

After talking through the options and the recurrence probabilities of each the final decision was reached.

Double mastectomy with implant reconstruction when possible

TAC chemotherapy – (Taxotere, Adriamycin, Cytoxan all infused at the same time) I am guaranteed to lose all of my hair and probably be nauseous for the entire 18 weeks.

Happy happy joy joy

Getting diagnosed with breast cancer sucks, but not getting diagnosed and dying would suck infinitely worse.