Two different cancers and both boobs removed from 9 days ago
Alive and cancer free
What fucking year for me….For you….I know you guys have been dealing with some hardcore shit too….Fucking life is a bitch at times….Life is also good at times.
I’ve learned a lot about myself, my strength, my courage, my family; their strength and determination to keep me healthy, comfortable and healing properly. I always knew I was strong, I had no doubt about that….I may not always want to be strong….but it is what I have to do to survive and have our family unit run as smooth [bumpy, crooked, off the goddamned track] as possible.
So, last night….I had my first shower since surgery. Oh what a glorious feeling to have my hubby wash out all that goddamned dry shampoo that’s been sprayed on my head the past eight days….Oh what a tragic site to see myself fully unclothed for the first time….I kept psyching myself up all day….I’m not gonna cry, I’m not gonna cry….was my mantra for the day….
Well, I cried & cried on my husband’s shoulders….he reassured me all will be okay….then took a very deep breath and stepped into the wonderful stream of warm water and let it wash away all my tears and worries; if only momentarily. It was quite shocking to see me body and what once were my gifuckinormous & obnoxious breasts hung. When hub was rinsing my hair & face and I bent over, not breasts weighed me down….No breasts swinging left and right…No breasts getting in my me….No breasts….
Trying to prepare oneself to view their altered body is a big goddamned obstacle no matter who you are. I know slicing the tits off my body was necessary for me to keep my health. And I’ve been peeking at my (lack of) boobs for a few days making sure they remain clean and irritant free.
Medically speaking, the incisions look good & clean. The left drain bulb is still there and will remain until January 4th, unfortunately. Today the fluid was dark red as opposed to the orangey I’ve grown accustomed to seeing. The plastic surgeons office reassured me, this is normal & still healthy.
Mentally speaking, I’m still all sorts of fucked up. Obv, ya know. I just lost my breasts to cancer….fucking cancer…fucking two different goddamned cancers….But having you guys and your fuckery in the palm of my hand had been a tremendous boost to my well-being. Again, I thank each and every single one of you who have walked this road with me. I heart you guys and shit so hard!
I’ve not disclosed my treatment plan as I’ve yet to meet with my oncologist. I have the info the breast surgeon gave me, but I need to hear it from oncology before I release to you guys. It’s looking good….But fuck *insert giggle* if my treatment is what they say, I feel guilty for getting off so easy; beside the losing my tits part. More on treatment next week.
19 just to 5 to CVS for more Advil and chocolates. I shall catch a quick nap.
Happy Fucking New Year to each and every single one of you beautiful motherfuckers.
Holy fuck me! I woke up in sooooooo much fucking pain today. Like first day of surgery pain, even though today is day eight since double mastectomy. [Some of you may be confused my by previous blog titles. I had both breasts removed. The whore filled with cancer and I sacrificed the other to prevent cancer recurrence & have to go through this fucking nightmare again.]
Yesterday I woke all bright & chipper & shit. I got my first post-cancer walk in with the boy & dog, played with my five and his trucks, had a wonderful visit from a friend & was able to get a glorious daytime nap cause hubby was able to get five midday. Felt great all night. Thought I was getting back to my old normal[snort] self.
Ah a handful of pain meds & protein infused coffee–should be situated shortly.
And is just me, or does everyone with a memory foam topper wake drenched in fucking sweat like a junky going through detox? Could be from the 80 pound dog laying on me too? On the other hand, I finally dropped that painkiller ladened deuce! My stomach is flat again! Yippeefuckingskippy!
I obtained my pathology report Monday. The cancer has been completely removed from my breast. Interestingly she told me there were two types they removed. Two different types of fucking cancer! Can you believe that shit?? She said it was ‘rare & bizarre‘ [to those of you who read this on Fb yesterday, deal with it. Told ya I’d be blogging it too.] *emoticon snarky face*
I knew I had invasive ductile carcinoma. What I find absofuckinlutely amazing is the second cancer removed, from same #badboob, called invasive lobular carcinoma wasn’t present on biopsy! Per pathology report, page 4 of 9, “…3 foci…Invasive lobular carcinoma were not present on prior core biopsy” Can you fucking believe that? They (and I) saw the tumors on the ultrasound on 11/19, but the cancer wasn’t even born yet? The fuck? Told ya at the beginning of my blog, that I was an ‘against the grain kinda girl’….more proof of that right here.
Goddammit! That blows my fucking mind! Seriously, I caught that shit so fucking early. How is that even possible? I have no words for the feelings I’m feeling. I do know, had I not caught that lump, 11/10/15 [during sex], those two cancers would have fucked me the fuck up.
Goddammit. I feel lucky as fuck. For real. All tingly and miracley & shit.
Again, never having had a surgery before, I didn’t know what to expect. I thought I’d be all Frankensteiny & shit, not being able to move my arms. I actually have more mobility than I anticipated.
I thought I’d not be able to do anything. Reach out for a hug, reach for a glass, wipe the ole poop-chute, but none of those tasks were even a problem. I cannot reach high-like to hang clothes in the closet. I can not reach far-like to grab my damned charger that keeps falling off my bedside table. Other than that, I feel normal, sans boobs.
I did have my first look at my chest on Monday when she took the hospital dressing off. I was shocked, saddened, stunned, happy [Uhm Tara, why the fuck would you be happy] Uhm, no more cancer. My chest is still all sorts of black, blue, yellow & shit….it is not pretty….hell my non-boobed chest is stilll bigger than some of the chicks I know with a flat chest….I had a lot of boob to remove….and I have the expanders in….still not sure how I feel about them….let you know when I get my first pump up. The nurse did remove the drainage tube from the right side. Leftie’s drainage has lessened, so that tube should be coming out tomorrow.
Happy New Year kids! May you all be cancer free. xx
de where’s my boob? [I’m still chucking at that title.] I know, I know, the grammar isn’t correct….but fuck it *giggle*….Dude, where’s my boobs?…didn’t read the same…I added apostrophes & shit….brackets….everything….it all was wrong….really it is wrong….cancer is wrong….my situation….your situation with cancer currently….finally you with your cancer situation that you don’t even know about yet….but will find out….I will be here for you….whoever you may be….when you get your results.
Cancer is becoming so fucking common. [Couldn’t find the most current stats, but in 2012 1.7 million women were diagnosed with breast cancer. The fucking fuck?] Those of you studying environmental factors as well as food & shit thank you! I can’t wait to see what new discoveries lie ahead in terms of cures for cancer or preventatives. I was reading how they’re using the tentacles of jelly fish to fight cancer~infuckingcredible!
I meet with my breast cancer surgeon today for my first post-op check. I did receive a call from her office earlier this morning, pathology report came back and the cancer did not spread to my lymph nodes, my margins are clear! This is wonderful news. They told us this the 22nd after surgery, but that was still preliminary–this is the official word–NO MORE CANCER IN MY BODY-[at the mo]-Whoohoo!!
The drainage from my incisions are becoming less & less, another good sign. Pain is still a motherfucker. I’ve gobbled all the pain meds and advil I could, trying to rest when I can.
There are two football shaped incisions where my tits once were….when I move the wrong way, I feel pain. Lot’s of it. A question I had for a friend who recently underwent a double mastectomy, was did she feel phantom boobs pangs….her answer was no. Nor have I yet. Bit I’m still kinda numb and shit physically & mentally.
Trying on clothes in my closet was a whole new trauma I wasn’t quite prepared for. Get this, I can actually button all the buttons on my shirts….something I’ve not been able to do in a long time. My chest is flat and my stomach looks 7 1/2 months preggers….I need to make poopies. Damn pain medication backs you up and puts 10 pounds on the fucking scale.
I’m adding my funding link to this post….Even though the breast cancer has been removed & Santa has returned to his home, I continue to lie in bed recovering sans boobs. The messages of support are flowing in….I am grateful for everyone. Today begins the first of many post-cancer visits. Many are still asking what you can do for us to help ease the transition for our family. The bills are beginning to pile, the insurance is still pending…..more prescriptions to pick up today. If you can help or share this post, I’ll put your name in a hat and let the winners pick names of my new boobs.
Seriously. All the thank you’s & hugs to everyone so far that’s walked with me during this cancer ordeal thus far. I love your faces goddammit and want to bite all your guyz’s cheeks. Check your boobs ladies. Make that mammogram appointment, if not for yourself, do it for your family.
It’s been four days since my double mastectomy. I’ve been home recovering for the past three days. Having never undergone a surgery before, I really had no idea what to expect as far as recovery.
Motherfuck, it takes me 30 minutes to lay down & get situated….then….I need to pee again….fuck it….more pain meds….another 45 minute snooze then up to empty my bladder.
So physically I feel better than I thought I would. Obviously I’m in a metric fuckton of pain. [In the hospital my pain was a level 35 out of 10, now it’s a manageable 5-6 1/2.] I’m so thankful for my husband keeping my pillows fluffed, feeding me, cleaning me and taking care of the house….any local readers….feel free to pop by Monday or Tuesday so I can catch a nap. Otherwise with five running about, naps & resting will prove to be challenging. Though five has been a tremendous help to me. Getting water, snacks, pillows and hugs. The atmosphere in the home has been one of calm and relaxation….which is good. I wanted no negativity in here at all and there has been none. Life is a negative enough whore bitch as it is….throw in mom who lost her boobs right before Christmas….well let’s just leave that there and say we had a good holiday enjoying each other’s company while playing Hungry Hungry Hippos.
Mentally I feel traumatized. Can’t believe I discovered the lump 46 fucking days again. [Even with reconstruction, it’s going to take me some time to adjust to the loss of my breasts]. We have been in nonfucking-stop go mode. And while we can begin to breathe a little easier knowing the cancer is out of my body-pretty sure that is the best Christmas present I could have ever given or received for our family-being cancer free.
I knew from my friends who’ve been through breast cancer, part of recovery involves draining the bulb tubes hanging from my chest. These pesky fucking tubes and bulbs are kinda a pain in the ass, but necessity to complete healing. Twice a day I’ve got to drain each bowl, into cup 1 & 2 respectively, and record the fluid. When the plastic surgeons office calls Monday I’ll report my fluid levels over the week–that determines when tubes can be removed. The left side is draining more which is obv since that was the side housing the cancer.
Not to mention walking with my chest completely bandaged, feeling like hell, trying to deal with concealing these bulb tube fuckers. There is no discrete way to do this. Under my clothes they are still bulky as shit. I do know this is temporary.
Next week it’ll be another obstacle I’ll be conquering. I’ve yet to see my chest under the bandages. That won’t occur till my post-op follow up Monday afternoon-speaking of which local folks, if you’re free Monday, I’ve appoint late afternoon in Raleigh. Still can’t div he….hubby will be working.
Remember the celebratory ass-slaps & high-fives I spoke of a few times?Well now is the time kids! Slap that ass nearest to you and give your buddy a high-five bitches.
Holy fuckamorolee what a goddamned ride that was….Now onto healing, recovery and treatment. My sentinel nodes came back clean, which is a very good thing. I’ve yet to talk to oncology to find specific course of action. That will be upon analyzing the tumors.
I actually have more mobility than I thought I would. I’m not quite sure what I expected to feel like after surgery–other than traumatized over the fact I had to lose my breasts–I know, I know–There’s your reconstruction Tara. Der….This I know…But still….Ya know…. Fucking Cancer….I will forever be changed….I am also alive!!
Now that the cancer has been extracted, I’m going to try getting excited about the reduction. Cause guess what? I’ve been reduced. In a big fucking way.
There are some that dream of breast enlargement & some dreaming of reductions. I was in the latter boat. The fake boobs are not installed yet. Expanders were put into me to begin the stretching process. It’ll be a few months until they’re up and ready to go. [insert winky face here]
I knew I was receiving a shitton of prayers, healing vibes & positive energies from around the world yesterday…I felt them all….All the loves…. All the hugs.. All the cries….All the concern….I felt it all….I still feel the positivity now or that could be the pain medication. Fuck if I know. Thank you all for cheering me and the family on for the past 30 days. Everyone has been so great and upbeat….I had no choice but to remain positive myself. I appreciate you guys more than I can ever put to pen.
If all my stats still look good, I should be on my way home later this evening. We will be counting down the minutes till Santa’s arrival courtesy of the NORAD Tracker. Currently there are 21 hours until Santa departs the North Pole guys!! My gift has already arrived. At the skilled hands of the surgeons yesterday, they full-fulled he two items on my Christmas wish list-being. I am cancer free kids and I’ll be home celebrating with my family in the house of peen.
HMMM-WILL #BADBOOB CONTINUE, YOU WANT TO KNOW? IT’S NO LONGER A BAD BOOB, THAT BITCH BOOB WAS KICKED OUT INTO THE RAIN….BLOGGING ABOUT THIS ORDEAL HAS BEEN EXTREMELY HELPFUL FOR ME; BY ALLOWING ME TO VENT AND GET SHIT OFF MY CHEST [SEE WHAT I DID THERE?], MORE SO THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD.
*This post may be filled with more typos & shit than normal*
Today is the day a a part of my body, shit, two parts of my body will be sacrificed to motherfucking cancer; you nasty day time hooker-fucking cancer.
I’ve written it before and I’m going to say it again: If I did not know I had cancer, I wouldn’t know. How fucking bizarre it that? I don’t feel off or any dif really other than that fact I’ve gained some pounds, some neck pain & my boobs hurt-getting close to cycle time again kids. Shit, I’d think the holiday madness is finally catching up to me. Fuck me. Cancer. Fuck that. I’m fortunate in the fact I caught this breast cancer so early. I’m fortunate in the fact my family is planted firmed by my side. I’m fortunate in the fact that I’ll some of the best cancer doctors in Raleigh performing my mastectomy. Fuck~~~I know it’s happening in a few hours, but goddammit, ya know??
I’m to be at the hospital 1:30 pm and get prepped. Surgery should begin at 3:30 & take about 3.5 hours [including the reconstruction portion], then two in recovery.
Relief can’t even begin to describe my feelings. I will be cancer free this evening. Ya know feeling cancerous tumors grow within your body over the course of the past 41 days is a huge mindfuck. I’ve been plagued with phantom pains–is it the cancer? Fuck if I know. How long were those whore lumps hanging out till I caught one? My mind is telling me yes. My mind has been very naughty this past month. Freaking me out and shit. I’ve never been a depressed person because I know shit happens. I imagine this may fuck with my psyche a mo.
You men and women who have been before me and stood [what appeared] so brave, I applaud you. I would have liked to have been brave and shit~~blubbered mess I am.
I know this particular nightmare is over….Fuck, I don’t want to see what our next journey is….Let’s imagine warm sandy beaches at sunset with fun floppy hats and fruity drinks, shall we?
I feel all your guyz’s love, prayers, well-wishes, juju-every single fucking ounce is swimming in my heart. Making me weep again. The amount of support everyone has shown has been tremendous. Thank you. Every single one of you beautiful motherfuckers.
Those who could relate know the world ain’t cake….(the fugees)
41 days ago I found a lump in my breast.
32 days ago I learned I had breast cancer
1 fucking day both breasts will be removed.…motherfuck you cancer….goddammit….
8428 days ago Christopher and I declared our love for each.[I realize that fact is in no way relevant to cancer. But I do love this app for keeping up with shit for me. As I’m normally scatterbrained or ‘free spirited’ as my hubby would say.]
Today I sit here, drinking my protein enriched coffee, reading some rather lovely posts & bullshit posts on FaceBook, strapped my 30ff’s into my bra for one of the last times….
Okay, cancer I get it, point made; you;re a fucking bitch.
I know too many that have died or who are afflicted with this beast currently.
But really cancer, six tumors, my entire tit? That’s the most traumatic part for me to wrap my head around.
I, of all people know life is not easy, but goddammit tumors–couldn’t you have positioned yourselves close enough so all I’d require is a lumpectomy?
The cancer is only in one breast, but I am choosing a double mastectomy because I sure as fuck do not want to have to go through breast cancer again down the road.
Needless to say….I’m fucking paralyzed with fear. I’m a blubbering spastic goddamned mess today. I am going to try to enjoy the day to the fullest. Singing silly Christmas songs and playing who farted? the boy or the dog.