Surgery

The dreaded day arrived. I woke up feeling OK actually. I had managed to sleep too. I had dreamt about my Gran the night before. She died of lung cancer when I was 8. She was the best Gran you could ever have! The type that spoilt you rotten. I have only ever dreamt about her once before. The night before I went traveling for the first time. I was worried about going because of something awful had happened in the family and was unsure whether that going was the right thing to do. She told me that everything was going to be OK. It comforted me. She said the same words to me in this dream too. I believe when someone has passed away and you dream about them it is them visiting you through your dream. Strangely enough I had gone to see a medium a few weeks ago. She said that my Gran was with me and she said every thing was going to be OK. The exact same words.

I woke up feeling calm, a little nervous perhaps but calm. I was trying not to think about it too much anyway. Joe and my parents came with me. We arrived at eleven and was taken in to the ward. I wasn't sure at first if it was just for cancer patients. There was a lot of older ladies in there. My surgeon popped over and put his hand on my arm and very compassionately said "Don't you worry, we will get that cancer out of you."

It just so happened to be breast cancer awareness month so it was every where! I couldn't read a magazine without seeing articles about it. Fortunately the articles were all positive stories. We waited till about 3 O'clock. It was a long wait! Just before I went, a lady was brought in from surgery. She was groaning and moaning like no tomorrow! That instantly made me feel scared.

As they took me down I started to cry. This was really happening now. I was petrified. I still had a bit of a wait when I got down there. I was put in a big room at first, there was a huge Oak tree painting directly in front of me that was painted up onto the ceiling too. I always loved oak trees. Oak tree symbolises courage and strength as well as other things.

I said goodbye to Joe and my parents and went it. The anesthetist proceeded to put the cannula's in. He was finding it hard to find my vein, and had to take it out and put it in another one. I was not liking this at all. As he was putting the second one in I could feel myself go all woozy. I wasn't sure if I should have been feeling like this already as he hadn't put the anesthetic in yet. I didn't say anything. I must have passed out because the next thing I knew I was waking up from the surgery. I knew I had a low pain threshold but that was just ridiculous!

It was so surreal. If you have ever watched a film or programme where you have the view of the person waking up from an operation, then that's what it was like. Bright lights, nurses saying my name and telling you where you are. I was shivering, my throat was dry and I couldn't keep my eyes open at first. I saw my mum and Joe in the corridor. I felt like absolute shit!

I was pumped full of morphine so wasn't feeling any pain.. I was looking forward to the morphine actually but it was not as great as I thought it would have been. I'm sure I would have been in a an awful lot of pain without it but I was expecting to at least feel slightly high too! My chest felt kind of numb. Which I guess was a good thing but the sensation was not comfortable. I remember my mum trying to talk to me. I couldn't talk, I didn't want to talk. She walked out crying. It must of been horrible seeing one of her little girl in this state.

My parents left and Joe stayed with me for a while longer. It was so uncomfortable. I wanted to lie on my side but when I tried to my wound felt really heavy like someone was pushing down on it. I didn't know how I was going to sleep as I love to sleep on my front. I thought I'd be so out of it from the morphine that I'd be OK. I could not sleep. Not only was the morphine making my face itch like crazy but the women in the ward were snoring like a herd of walruses, if that is at all possible! The nurses were in and out all the time checking my blood pressure and giving me pain killers. I made sure I clicked that morphine button every time the light showed up!

The woman next to me was having a hard time. There was so much noise coming from her bay, as well as throwing up. She had obviously over done it on the morphine but kept giving herself more anyway! By the time it was morning I was in a terrible state. A nurse came over and asked if I wanted toast. I told her I was on a special diet from having a yeast infection. She looked at me with a slight scowl and said "What?" in an not so sympathetic tone. She didn't know what I was going on about and didn't care. I burst into tears. I was just left to cry. I felt the whole ward looking at me. No one saying a word.

I told the nurse I wanted to see my boyfriend. She said he'd called and was coming in early. I was so relieved. I laid there crying until he arrived. He couldn't stay for long as had to go to work. My parents came for the rest of the day.

The woman next to me just wouldn't shut up! It was driving me crazy. I'm sure she was in a great deal of pain but she was the type of person that moaned and groaned for attention. She would have a right groan and then look round to see if anyone was looking. I think the whole ward was fed up of her. I just thought shut up and get on with it. I still had no idea what any of these ladies were in for. I guessed one lady on the other side had had a mastectomy because she had 2 drains coming of her side like me. She was very quiet and looked very sad. I knew how she felt. It got to the point where I could not bare the woman's moaning anymore. I asked for a private room but there weren't any. Luckily a lady by the window was leaving. I asked to be moved to over there.

I was finally moved. It was nice not to be stuck in the middle of the ward anymore. I found out that the rest of the women had had hysterectomy's. I do hope I never have to have one! I felt bad at complaining about that woman as she was probably in so much pain but she WAS the only one making a big deal out of it.

She later asked me what I was in for. I told her, she felt terrible and apologised for all the noise she was making. She was very nice to me. No one else had spoken to me in there. I was opposite a little old lady, she was so sweet. I got out of bed one day to help her up. I couldn't just lay there watching her struggle but I knew I shouldn't have done this. Even the lady told me to lie back down but I had to help her.

The nurses were generally really nice in there apart from a couple. The nicest ones were the Filipino women. They were so adorable and really cared about you. It was a shame they only did the night shifts.

Emotionally it was very hard in hospital. One day all I wanted to do was cry. I tried to have some privacy by shutting the curtains but the nurses would come along and open them again. If any of them saw me crying they would assume I was in physical pain. I wasn't and could kind of cope with that. I know they are only there for your physical health but when they kept turning around saying well at least the cancer has gone, or you'll be OK, I felt like I had to be grateful.

The emotional pain was so much worse. I didn't feel I really had enough emotional support in there. A breast care nurse did casually walk over to me and speak to me for 5 minutes at the most but that was it. So when a nurse asked me if I had met the breast care nurse and was going on about how lovely she was I thought, well its all very well her being lovely but where the hell is she. I then saw her on few occasions but it wasn't to talk to me. She would be sitting in the staff room drinking tea and munching on biscuits..... not really any use to me is it!

I'd had such a horrible day. I asked the night nurses if there was a private room. Thankfully there was and they moved me. Having my own space was just what I needed. It had been four days and I was so desperate to get out. I have never understood how your suppose to recover in such an unrelaxing, depressing place.

I had 2 drains coming out form my side. These were draining the fluid and blood from my wound. The drains had to be below 40 before they could discharge me. It took a week in the end. I was told probably 4 days so was hoping I could leave.

The week I had been in hospital we probably had the best weather we'd had in October. I managed to get out into the hospital grounds one day. That felt amazing. I wanted to leave for the day but my drains kept on leaking and I was having my dressing changed so often. My spirits were so low. I just wanted to get out of that place, go outside and feel the sun on my face, listen to the leaves rustling and watch the beautiful golden autumn leaves fall.

I plucked up the courage one day and looked down at my chest. It still had the dressing on so couldn't really tell what it looked like but it looked pretty good from what I could see. It felt thigh and was really strapped down which bothered me. It was the drains that actually hurt the most though. They were pulling down and felt very sore.

I was having to take sleeping pills because I just could not sleep. They soon wore off though. The nurses would wake you up at about 7.30 to give you your painkillers and take your blood pressure. I just wanted to be left alone. Breakfast would come soon after. It was the last thing I wanted to do at that time in the morning. The hospital food was awful! I hardly I ate but did try. Everyone that visited did bring me lots to eat and I ended up with a bag full of goodies but couldn't bring myself to eat much of it. The nurses were all jealous when Joe brought me in load of Marks & Sparks food.

The day was to arrive when I had at least my first drain taken out. I felt better already. On the seventh day they have to take the other one no matter what. It was such a relief not to have them hanging down me side and pulling anymore.

One of the nurses took off my dressing. I was nervous about looking down. They left the strips over my stitches so it was not completely visible. I had a look down at my chest, I was pleasantly surprised. It did not look half as bad as I thought it would be. I showed my friend, Vanessa. She made me laugh by saying, "God its better then my boob!"

The surgeon had done an amazing job. It was very neat and even the nurses said how good it looked. I went to the bathroom and had a look in the mirror. It actually looked better looking down at it then straight on. I did have a little cry, after all I had lost one of my breasts.

The day came that I could leave. A nurse helped me wash my hair for the first time in a week. It felt so good having clean hair again The nurses did help me wash every day but I couldn't wait for a proper wash. I was given this big elastic support band which I was told to wear over my chest. It did not feel right at all as I thought it was crushing my reconstruction. I wore it anyway. It wasn't until I spoke to the nurse at East Grinsted that I was told I was wearing in wrong. It had to sit on top of your chest. This still wasn't comfortable. I was told to wear it 24/7 for 6 weeks!

My friend Paolo came down from Leicester to pick me up. It was great to get home. I was very tired and still very sore. It was lovely to see Paolo, we caught up and talked about all the crazy things we always talk about. I swear, if anyone heard us talking they would put us in a mental asylum! We would have been burnt at the stake for being witches many years ago!