There's a story behind the story

And it's kinda long. Indulge me some if you can. 

One of the last instructions my breast surgeon gave on the day of surgery was to remind me again (maybe the 3rd time) to be sure when I got home to take the pain pills they were going to give me. Along with the Valium. About every 4-6 hours. Don't be stoic she says knowing my aversion to narcotics (much more on this later). She tells me this again for a few reasons. When you are healing from such a major surgery with skin being put back together and nerves reattaching its important to get the blood flowing in that direction for the best healing she states and if you can't due to the fact you don't move because you are just soooo (she drags out the word) racked with pain and stiff it won't help our healing process. To illustrate she puts her body real stiff like with arms straight at her sides like a corpse to show me exactly what she means. We can't have that she says. She does this in the room witnessed by my crew about a half hour before surgery. My mom-nurse muneca tells her don't jew worry, I take care of that. Good my surgeon says satisfied it's all going to go as needed.

Before you think my doc a drug pusher or has stock in some pain med companies there is a back story to the cancer story I have been blogging about. You see in September I went in for a much needed non cosmetic (don't get wild ideas) surgery with a different doctor. It was an overnight completely under anesthesia hospital stay. Scardy cat I am of course I put it off as long as I could. A few days before I'm with the nurse for after surgery instructions. Along with the instructions she hands over like 3 prescriptions. One was for a narcotic pain script. What's this I ask narrowing my eyes? It's the pain meds you will need to take while at home. Oh boy. I asked her in the sweetest voice if I rreaaalllyy needed narcotics and what was the strongest non narcotic thing they could give me. She was stunned and slightly frustrated saying you have to take them and then--well you are gonna need to talk to the doctor about that. It seems as if no one refuses the pain meds and it's not the first time I have gotten this reaction.

Here's my thing with narcotic pain meds and pain in general. I don't like pain and for sure I do feel pain. In fact if you even slightly try to bend my little finger back I will promptly yell and poke you in your eyeball in 2 seconds flat. It's just I don't like narcotics. At all. And I really don't like me on them. They make my stomach hurt after about a half a day on them, they make me itch terribly in particular my nose. I talk real sloooowww while itching my nose. Sometimes I even miss my nose in that itching effort. Pathetic. Thats how bad I am on them. It reminds me of this guy Randy that used to come around from time to time when I was in high school who was obviously a heavy narcotic drug user or anything he could get his hands on. Picking at himself, itching himself talking super slow slurry like nodding off in the middle of talking to you then wake up half hour later like he never stopped while itching again. I simply can't erase the visual of poor Randy from my mind and ignore the fact that I miiiigghhtt look a little like him when I take them. It really freaks me out. I have avoided taking them. In fact if any doctor even starts in the direction of writing the script I hold my hand up, question pain levels, after effects and explore other options. Worked so far.

Later in my doctors office sitting on her couch I ask her to tell me or describe to me the level of pain or discomfort she thinks I might have after surgery. She is actually very well known and recommended for her skills in this area and for her amazingly little downtime after surgery. It's the very reason why I chose her. I wanted to be up running through fields of daisies and back at work quickly. How terribly terribly ironic in hindsight given what we now know isn't it? So I say doc, is this pain aaannnyyy (emphasizing this word) worse than the ridiculous pain I have had for the last 2 years  I have managed by taking just a few prescription ibuprofen? She took off her glasses and looked at me calmly answering no it's not at all, that's real pain you have been going through, there's no reason you couldn't continue to take it after surgery, I agree if you don't want the pain meds don't take them and you will be fine. It's settled then. No narcotics. Before I leave she says see ya Thursday (for the surgery), here's your prescription for your annual mammogram peeling off the paper from her prescription pad. Great I say, see you then and stick the paper in my purse.

My surgery went well. My overnight stay was fine. I fell in love with my nurses who were amazing, thankfully so because there I was again last week. Same room same nurse. More on this in another blog. After surgery at home true to form I did extremely well and never once needed to run to the pharmacy desperately asking for "the juice". A few people told me to stop being super women and just take the pain meds. I let them know the truth that the only discomfort I really felt was the air or gas they fill you up with during surgery. A friend said oh my goodness then, just let it out!! Meaning the gas. I told her it wasn't that kind of gas you just can't pass it like she was suggesting. It simply had to be absorbed by the body. Except it passes or moves up into your right shoulder area and makes you feel a little like you are having a heart attack. Visions of Redd Fox on that old show Samford and Sons who would pretend to have attacks stumbling around saying Elizabeth (clutching his heart) I'm coming Elizabeth (looking up to the heavens) would come to mind. Because It's like that except you know daing well you aren't having a heart attack because your heart is on the other side.  

It was during my rounds of cancer doctor visits not soon after this other surgery they find out how well I recovered, how quickly and without narcotic pain meds. Everyone wanted to look at the incisions. The first visit she meets me my breast surgeon says huh? hmmm let me look at those incisions! I just can't believe it. After looking, wow you heal great and seem to be what we call a high pain tolerant patient. Let's not get carried away I tell her. If I gotta take it and if it's that bad I will I just want to talk about it or have a choice. 

And that's why my very smart doctor repeated herself a few times to me about the subject maybe worried that I might decide to make some choice that could possibly delay healing. Well now. This time around on the surgery train it's a whole other situation entirely. Lemme tell ya folks it hurts and you take "the freakin juice". In fact I would count (at least tried, one is not exactly perfectly lucid) to be sure it was not after the 4 hours between med times. Yes- while trying to itch my nose. Once when I said I wanted them at a time that wasn't exxaaccctttly 4 hours my sister who is very technical reminded me that the hour I was requesting wasn't the 4 hours- exactly (it was more like 3 hours and 20 min). I promptly said sister!! are you kidding me?! gimme the eff meds I'm certainly not gonna freakin OD. Except I was so effed up I said it real real real slow losing the dramatic effect I wanted and who knows probably while trying to itch my ear or something.

First day alone-don't worry it's jam packed. I'm very busy

9:00am: wake up, open eyes, curse out loud knowing that once I get myself into the upright sit up position I have to figure out how to turn to the left to actually get OUT of the  bed

9:15am: make it to my couch in my room. Sit down and stare at my toes

9:18am: wash face, brush teeth. Carefully check for any new wrinkles as I have not been always able to do my nightly beauty ritual of slathering on my anti wrinkle eye stuff 

9:20am: feel fairly confident no new wrinkles have crept their way onto my face. To be sure I slowly reach for wrinkle cream and apply. You can never be too sure I tell myself

9:21am: think about making my way downstairs to do something

9:43am: make way downstairs. Decide to make my morning shake and refresh water

9:55am: while making shake I challenge myself to see how many more leaves of spinach I can fit in while still able to completely screw on lid and not have shake mix go all over the place while mixing-(not that this has happened to me, I'm just saying)

10:10am: finish shake and drink shake

10:14am: make personal goal of drinking my big thing of water by noon

10:19am:  feel good I made a goal for today

10:20am: wipe down all ready clean counters. slooooowly

10:21am: wipe corner of counter down again as I'm sure I saw a speck of something

10:21am: tell myself I don't have OCD that I'm just tidy

10:22am: drink water

10:23am: stare at my nails but don't actually file them because I don't know how

10:24am: look at pics on Instagram. Press like on 3 of them

10:24am: attempt to teach my dog Spanish

10:28am: look around, wonder when everyone is coming home while resisting urge to wipe down counters again

10:29am: drink more water. feel proud that I'm getting closer to my goal

10:34am: say bad words out loud when I get a sudden shooting nerve pain. Silently I tell my momma aka nurse muneca I'm sorry. She told me I was gonna get in trouble if I keep doing that

10:35am: hope nurse muneca doesn't read this blog entry

10:36am: stand at bottom of stairs, look up. take deep breathe

11:10am: upstairs 

11:12am: sit down on bed. contemplate taking shower 

11:12 and 40 seconds: lie down to take a nap

It's all fun and games

Until you actually have to show up at the hospital and finally do all the stuff that you have been talking about, listening intently to, taking notes and actually agreeing to while nodding your head. Talk? That's the easy part. It's a whole other can of beans when you have to get up on the day of the surgery and do this not so fun action part. A few days prior I kept getting calls from family, from friends, the hospital (pre check in) and both doctors all asking me how I am. Each time my answer was the same. Ooohhhh fine (in a slightly different high pitch voice) I'm just trying not to make a run for it. They would laugh and I would laugh but not like a real laugh like a hehe totally fake dry mouth kinda laugh. You see I was only partially joking. Major surgery and stays in the hospital are just straight up terrifying. What's a girl to do? Make imaginary plan b in your head that you can always run off like a chicken.

What's a better plan? Roll in with a crew about 10 deep. And thats exactly what I did. Kinda like a pre party. I am in no way exaggerating when I tell you how much it helped. Immensely is a word that comes to mind. However before "the crew" arrived mid morning I had to check in much earlier at the nuclear medicine part of the hospital for a pre surgery procedure called sentinel node biopsy. I really wasn't happy about that one. It involves needles. And radioactive dye. To further help you understand let's remember I certainly don't have pinky toe cancer. I have breast cancer. Just so we get the idea where it was all going down. Very much needed and important. I know that. It's to check lymph nodes giving the surgeon a clear path to detect how far the cancer has gone but knowing this sure didn't make me skip off to the radiology section. Talk about needing a paper bag to prevent panic attacks. When they called my name to take me back I actually involuntarily said in a strange voice: no esta aqui. Yes I said that. My mom laughed and said you're too much, get back there whacking me on the butt.

As we walk down the hall young man number one says do you know what you are here for today? Uuuhh. I blank out. I didn't know there was going to be a test. I do my best to mutter the procedures in the medical terms all the while trying to peek at the papers he is holding. Close he says while he repeats it to me. This happens throughout the day with each new person who comes in. It's a good thing. You sure don't want to leave without a leg or some other limb and still have the f$@&cn cancer in you because of a terrible mix up. It's just I didn't study for the test.

Off I go for the injections, in the you know what. In a freezing cold room with huge strange machines lying down wrapped in a warm blanket strapped in on this oddly small stretcher bed (either that or it's not made for Latina booties) slightly exposed waiting for the doctor of radiology with 2 young men in their 20s. It seems injection Doctor wasn't ready. After a few more minutes waiting the young man says I'm so sorry he will be right here. I let him  

know no worries, that I had back up plans to ditch the whole thing and run off to Mexico anyway so this must be a sign. Wouldn't you know very tall and very handsome Dr Radiologist is standing right behind me as I say this snapping his gloves on laughing telling me no Mexico today young lady, we are going to have you out of here in a jiffy.

So there I lie left breast exposed with 3 handsome young men just hanging around joking. No biggie, right? Awwwkkwwaarrdd. Young man number two says hold my hand and proceeds to tell me a funny story about his #160 Saint Bernard who misbehaves constantly while handsome doctor counts and injects, counts and injects. 1 of 4. 2 of 4 and so on until we are done.

Finally I'm done to go meet up with my crew for the pre party before surgery. 

Nurse muneca is in the house

I call my mom muneca. Which in Spanish means doll. I have for some time. It's my term of affection for her. And now that she has traveled across the country and moved in to care for me while I'm recovering from surgery I started calling her Nurse muneca. Translated to Nurse doll. It makes her giggle. I started adding the nurse part a few weeks back. I would call her and say nurse! Are you getting your rest? I need you soon. Si, si estoy lista she would reassure me. (Yes yes I am ready). Nurse muneca que haces (what are you doing) I texted her a few weeks ago? Getting my hair done and a pedicure so I look cute for you she replies. Ah si, we can't be in the hospital with our toes or hair looking ugly. Good idea I'm doing the same I reply back. She laughs.

It's so incredibly healing to have loving hands on you while you recover. From something as serious as cancer surgery or as simple as a tooth extraction. As adults I find over and over we don't seem to allow this. We are so programmed to be independent and stubborn in this way. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's we don't want people to see us weak or vulnerable. Or maybe it's because we don't want to have to put on smiley faces for someone else when we don't feel like that inside. Who knows why, we all have our own reasons. I have been guilty of this myself. Others I know have done the same. I find out later they went through something kinda serious but only after the fact. It surprises me. I can only say and speak for myself that if not for my nurse muneca and every other person who has come to care for me through their loving actions I would absolutely not be in such good spirits that I am or surely be in a much worse position than I am now. 

So here she is with me. Everyday. Helping me get out of bed every time so I don't overuse arm muscles that are not supposed to be used, walking by my side to steady my shaky legs. Greeting me each and every morning with a buenos dias beauty, what would you like for breakfast? Except my mom has a heavy Caribbean Puerto Rican accent and when she says you it sounds like jew. And when she uses a j it sounds like a y. So if I tell her something funny and true but slightly unbelievable she says are jew yoking me? No, I tell her I not yoking you. It's adorable. 

I have these tubes that are stitched into me on each side that empty into something that looks like these little plastic grenades. Three times a day she strips the tubes and empties the grenades. Recording the date, the time, the amount, and the color. Ooh look at this color she says, looking good beauty, looking good. She patiently waits for me outside the bathroom door after my shower to dry and brush my hair telling me oooo that's so cute, where jew get that? Referring to my little dress or nightgown. 

Nurse muneca I call to her when I have to move out of bed or it's time for my medication. Yes, beauty ya vengo (I'm coming) and there she comes. Calmly and lovingly to move me or give me the next round of medication. Telling me stories of who called to ask about me or what she just read always in her melodic soft accented voice. 

Every morning to help my nausea from all the narcotic medication I take she makes me the most delicious shakes filled with spinach, berries, carrots, protein power and almond milk. I drink every drop. The other day she tells me, listen beauty (she pauses) I have to tell jew something. What Is it ask? Well she says I have been sneaking prune juice into jour shakes because the doctor says it's very important jew....well jew know (she moves her hands like to say you know what I'm saying but I'm not going to say it) jew taking so much pain medication that we don't want problems in dis area. Hopefully jew like it. 

Oh nurse muneca, you're too much while I laugh out loud holding my chest at the same time. It hurts to laugh but still I do it. 

Ladies and gentlemen cancer has

Left the building!!

My mom made it through just fine and in her room recovering asking for her lip gloss.

Thank you to everyone for all your love and support. You are all so amazing. She couldn't have done it without you praying for her and sending her love.

Xoxo
Diana

Hello everyone :)

Just wanted to let everyone know my mom is in surgery now. I will keep everyone posted when she is out.

Love and hugs to everyone,
Diana

Today's the day

Please put me in your thoughts and prayers today. Specifically at 2pm.

Think of me filled with strength that I know I will need for many days after today

Pray that my faith remains steady and it carries me through

Hope that we stay close and loving to each other. Through good, the not so good and the downright knarly

Wish for understanding, that we able to apply it to each other in all the best ways

Pray that I stay on the right path to do all that's needed to be healthy no matter how difficult

Finally pray, wish and send thoughts for me to not make a run for the border, change my name to Rosalita conchito and make tamales for a living. I have said it a few times in the last few days when I'm asked how I am and while we laugh what I haven't said is I'm only partially joking.