You can leave your hat on!

  

We arrived for surgery at 7.30am on 3rd October. It was lovely to be greeted by the same nurse who had been so kind to us four weeks earlier at my first operation. I felt quite self-conscious about my baldness. With so many folks on the unit having lost their hair through treatment, it felt almost frivolous that I had chosen to have mine shaved off. I explained to the nurse about the 'Brave The Shave' and she was great about it. She told me about her own chemotherapy treatment a few years previous and was really reassuring about the whole hair loss thing. I noticed that she went on to make a point of telling the other medics who came to see me that I was bald through raising funds for MacMillan. Each one of them was so positive and appreciative.

Once again I was given my pristine white socks and reassured by the anaesthetic nurse. The surgeon too was lovely and there was something strangely comforting about his honesty. He couldn't guarantee I wouldn't need further surgery after this operation but he did promise me he would do his very best to make sure I didn't. With this he whipped out his trusty felt pen and drew a big blue arrow that, funnily enough, was almost the same shade as the nipple it was pointing at! Though I still had a dressing due to the rebellious lymphedema in my left armpit, I was told to just leave it and they'd 'sort it out' under anaesthetic. 

This time round I wasn't first on the list and this allowed me more of an insight into the workings of the ward. It really is a remarkable mixture of busy, efficient procedure and gentle individual kindness. I did get a bit anxious at one point. Am not sure where it came from but I sat with it and felt the Reiki start to melt it away as I gave attention to my breath and physical relaxation then chose to let my mind drift to a place of peace and calm. This is a technique I use when the present moment is crap. I dip in temporarily to a different moment to resource myself with positivity and calmness. Bringing this back to the present moment gives me a peaceful resilience. On this occasion my place of peace and calm was the front room of my Nana's bungalow. The smell of geraniums- old lady window camouflage so they can watch the world go by undetected. The sound of the shilling hitting the bottom of the meter tray as I turned the handle after inserting the coin. The feel of the fabric of the sofa against my little legs. The smell of newly baked scones. And breathe... After this I turned to my phone for a distraction and, as if by magic, there were just the right messages from just the right people that helped me settle and just Be.

Eventually, I walked with the anaesthetic nurse through to the small room next to theatre where they do what they do to help patients drift off so calmly. Once again I felt a bit of a nob lying there wearing my hat. Am not sure if the nurse picked this up but she spoke to the anaesthetist and mentioned it was a bit chilly. The anaesthetist looked at me and said, "OK, you can leave your hat on!" And with that, I slipped into a Full Monty/Tom Jones slumber. I'm sure its not unusual! 

The next thing I remember was waking up to a smiling nurse asking me if I was in any pain. This time I didn't feel brilliant to be honest. My armpit was throbbing and this turned into a sharp pain if I moved. The nurse had morphine to hand and gave me part of the syringe. Nope- the pain persisted so she gave me the rest of it. This must have been quite a dose as hives appeared on my arm. However, they disappeared very quickly- as did the pain. 


Next came that wonderful cup of tea- in fact this time I got two! My only disappointment was when my sandwich arrived and the little sachet of mayonnaise turned out to be a hand wipe.

The surgeon came to see me holding up both his hands with his fingers crossed! He was optimistic I now had the right margin of healthy tissue around where Lumpy had been. I wasn't sure how confident the crossed fingers made me feel but, once again, I had to admire his honesty! He also explained that he'd done 'a bit of work' in my armpit to clean it up. (It was a few days later when I changed the dressing that I saw he'd completely opened up the wound, cleaned it out and re-sewn it. No wonder it was so sore after surgery but what a neat job he'd made of it too.)

Chris came to collect me and we came home to a snuggled up evening with the beasties. Maybe it was the morphine, but I slept well and felt really good and positive when I woke. There was none of the 'wired' feeling I'd had after the first surgery and I felt quite energised. It really did feel as though something had lifted, or been removed. I had had concerns about the things I'd got planned the week following surgery. My breast care nurse had said I'd be fine and the planned Yoga and Sound Retreat would do me good. Now, after surgery, I started to believe she was right and began to look forward with a renewed energy.

Liz x