Rollercoaster

chapter 9

9th September 2009:

Today was the day, my breast will vanish as if it was never done the mastectomy just around the corner, my heart was breaking even more, slowly one by one. Everyone thinking the worst. But still there was faith in everyone's eyes. The one last hug before I go in to give me strength from everyone as they had tears in their eyes. Going into the surgery room all I remember is lights on the ceiling as I was getting put to sleep.

When I came out the operation, I was completely knocked out, but I could feel the drains everywhere. The right arm with IV fluids and on the right arm I was filled with drains. I just didn't like the feeling of any of it. I had a bandage on my operation side, I had to lay flat, no pillows could assist me it was too much of a risk for the stitches to open up as it was a fresh surgery. I wasn't allowed out of the bed. I couldn't eat due the vomiting, they were giving me pain relief through the IV. This went on for a week.

After the surgery, I had learnt that I had 49 staples from the outside of what used to be my breast and it was stitched on the inside. This gave me confidence to become the lion I always was. The soon to be scars were the meaning of my battle. The fight to stay alive. For my family, my worlds, my everything's.

Gradually my strength got better but slowly. They discharged me from the hospital in 18 days this was after daily blood tests to check everything was normal and they kept checking my blood pressure too. On the ward there was 5 of us, with me included was 6 however I requested my own room as I couldn't take the noise of other patients. I was lucky as the hospital was kind enough to give me my own. I was always and constantly in pain, even though I couldn't see it I knew that my breast was completely gone forever and could never be replaced. When discharged the nurse would come to check on me at my house every day. After 3 weeks, the nurse said that everything looked good and that I could get the staples out.

I was dreading it....

The staples were like getting your finger caught in your car door. Each one making me cringe, like metal rubbing against metal. My screams could be heard all the way down the street. My body involuntarily sweating buckets, making me claustrophobic. I wanted to rip my clothes off me, but I couldn't.

20 staples the first day.

The first one was like getting hit by a car.

The second one getting run over by a bus.

The third one breaking your arm in an uncomfortable position.

The fourth one hitting your forehead on a pole.

The fifth one getting strangled leaving you breathless.

The sixth one getting your finger broke.

The seventh one your pelvis coming out.

The eight one your knee popping out.

The ninth one learning a family member has passed away.

The tenth one having a heart break from the same persons death.

The eleventh one going to their funeral.

The twelve one trying to replace that same person with another person.

The thirteenth one getting your arm twisted and breaking your arm.

The fourteenth one getting clawed at by your cat.

The fifteenth one getting a tattoo and the feeling of the needles.

The sixteenth one getting a burn on your arm from a hair straightener.

The seventeenth one getting your teeth pulled out.

The eighteenth one getting a papercut.

The nineteenth one pulling your nail out.

The twentieth one stubbing your toe on the edge of your bed and trying to hold it all in.

The next day another 29 and honestly the whole process goes through but double the excruciating pain.

I felt useless and empty.

Like a shell.

However, I felt blessed to still be alive. The lion in me was waking up, I had felt so proud of myself I conquered death. It wasn't my time to go, not yet. I still have a long time ahead of me. As a mother, a daughter and a sister. 

Through my experience I have found that the most support you can get the better. The nurses, the doctors all helped. And I thank Allah for being here on my two feet breathing oxygen to keep me alive.