I may have gotten a bit cocky.  I may have spent the day emotionally and physically numb, leaning on the courage and strength everyone reminds me I have.  Through this all, I never quite wrapped my mind around the potential physical pain I would be put through along my previvor journey.  I have spent more time thinking about my next chess move, my kids needs and care, and how my surgeries would affect my husband and family.   The sense of empowerment I have felt about these difficult decisions did not leave time for me to plan for the annoying physical pain that I would have to put my body through.  It sure hit me like a ton of bricks last night when I heard my daughter cry out at about 11pm “I want mommy” and my body quickly told me I was unable to get out of bed to even give her a quick hug.

Yesterday went by faster than I would have thought.  My surgery was not until 1pm, which if you’ve ever had surgery before you know how brutal this time slot is.  You cannot eat anything after midnight, so spending the morning both hungry and anxiously waiting was not the best combination.  Thankfully I was distracted by the amazing text messages and phone calls all morning from dear family and friends.  You have no idea how much all of those words of encouragement mean to me. 

I didn’t have much to say all morning.  My amazing husband drove me to the hospital and held my hand through the silence.  He took the time throughout the morning to remind me how proud he was of me and how thankful he was I was doing this for our family.  While at the hospital, a team of wonderful nurses got me settled in around 11…the red carpet treatment began.  I was dressed in a hospital gown that actually heated up, was prepped with an extra large IV needle, and was greeted by my doctor with a huge hug.

They wheeled me in for surgery around 1pm and put me right to sleep.  They proceeded with a successful salpingectomy done laparoscopically, making three incisions and pumping my belly with gas so they had full visibility of my insides.  I woke up about 3pm in a waiting room…in an entirely new gown.  In my haze, I quickly realized how vulnerable this whole process has made me, first emotionally and now physically exposed.  In addition, I about gasped when I first saw my stomach after surgery…I looked about 4 months pregnant and had what looked like mini golf balls under my incision points due to heavy swelling in those muscles.  Several nurses attended to me, ensuring I was tolerating both the aftermath and nausea from the anesthesia, along with keeping my pain level manageable.  They must have dosed me up well because other than being exhausted, I felt pretty darn good walking around after surgery.  My husband was brought back in, let me know the doctor said everything went perfectly and that she would have my pathology report in in the coming days.

We headed home and I was greeted by three sets of running legs coming in for a big mommy hug.  I was able to sit down and soak up the hugs and kisses with the help of others to keep wandering hands and feet off of my belly.  My appetite had not returned so I spent the remainder of the evening on the couch drinking tea to soothe my sore throat from being incubated during surgery.  Overall I was uncomfortable and extremely swollen but my pain was more than manageable.  I took half of one of the pain pills they gave me, even though I didn’t feel like I needed one just yet.

Then, it all happened at once.  I heard my daughter cry “I want mommy” and I quickly realized that the IV pain meds had more than worn off when I couldn’t get up to check on her.  I had flashbacks from when I was recovering from my csection, that pain of not being able to get out of bed on your own, having it hurt to move your legs and the overall feeling of not being able to move more than an inch without my body reminding me of the surgery.  I spent the rest of the night rather uncomfortable and fought my husband on which pain meds to take.  I finally gave in to the “good stuff” which gave both of us a few hours of sleep.   I felt terrible for keeping him up all night and for being angry at my hopefully short lived physical restrictions.

I know it will all feel a million times better in the coming week, but for now I’m trying to be a good patient to nurse hubby and stay positive.  My daughter woke up at her usual 7am time and the first thing she asked was, “Is mommy feeling better?” Such a thoughtful three year old.  I was brought to tears for a moment in prayer, as I asked the Lord to please please ensure that if my daughter and niece inherit this mutation that they have much easier decisions to navigate, ones that don’t involve painful surgeries.  I thanked Him for getting me through my first surgery along my previvor journey and asked for his quick healing.   Despite the physical pain I am experiencing, I am reminded that the whole goal of all of this is to be proactive with my health so that I will always be around to hear my (someday adult) kids say, “I want mommy.”

Xox
Carey