Last leg of the relay
477 days have passed since we received the news of my cancer. While we are hopeful that this New Year brings brighter days, Nate and I are tired. 477 days of thinking, fighting, talking, writing, and breathing cancer is 477 days too many.
I had my exchange surgery on December 15th and I’m happy to report that it went as smooth as we could have hoped. I woke up high as a kite, with Nate by my side, and without hesitation, I housed a bag of popcorn. If there is anything I have learned in these past 477 days, it is that steroids are a stomach’s best friend.
But it wouldn’t be on brand for my surgery to go without any drama. So of course we found ourselves in the Kaiser Richmond Emergency Room two days after my out-patient procedure. I opted to wait outside despite the frigid weather because of the fear of contracting Omicron in my newly post-operative state. The intake nurse at the ER recognized me as the person who’s Prius was totaled in the Kaiser parking deck months before. Oh how I will not miss the memories forged at Kaiser Richmond.
The reason for my ER visit was a red puffy rash that inflamed the entire front of my chest. The plastic surgeon on call suspected I had a delayed reaction to the surgical scrub (there’s the body I know and love) but my plastic surgeon thinks it was probably a reaction to the wrap and gauze wound tightly around my reconstruction. Whatever the reason, the ER doctor on call cleaned off my skin and sent me home to a bottle of antihistamines that did the trick.
Those first few days I looked once again like the Hunchback, but my body bounced back much faster than after my previous surgeries. The pain wasn’t nearly as bad, most likely because there weren’t many nerves left to sever. Nate drove me to San Francisco yesterday for my 3-week check-up and my surgeon was very pleased with how my reconstruction is healing. Before my surgery, I decided not to do fat grafting (shallow liposuction of the belly, arms, or thighs) to augment my implants, which nearly all women with over-the-muscle reconstruction opt to do. I just could not fathom the idea of having other parts of my body altered. I also could not imagine the added pain, bruising and compression garments—a compression bra for 3 weeks straight is this girl’s limit. I am in awe of people who are able to brave fat grafting or, even more amazingly, flap surgeries. Luckily, I have very little rippling with my under-the-muscle reconstruction, so everything is looking fine. I am happy with my results, though like everything, it is taking time for my mind to adjust to the changes my body has experienced. Many days these changes feel emotionally exhausting. I’ve taken more to writing these past three weeks to help me process these changes.
My mom flew out before my surgery, sacrificing yet again weeks of her time to help care for me alongside Nate. They are like the odd couple, which brings much needed hilarity to any given situation. They get the job done nonetheless. I feel so grateful for all the sacrifices they and my sister Mary have made in order to nurse me back to life.
Once again I also had the support of my family and friends show up at my doorstep in the way of food drops, phone calls, texts, cards, gifts and other thoughtful gestures. Thank you for supporting me through this (hopefully) last leg of a very long relay.
I start fulltime-ish work next Thursday (!!), January 13th. I’m nervous and a little anxious but also grateful for a meaningful job to return to and hopeful that a routine carves a sense of normalcy and calm into my psyche.
A few things I am looking forward to in 2022:
I bought matching red rollerblades with flames up the sides for me and my sister Mary. I’m hopeful they’ll infuse a sense of childlike-wonder into our lives and maybe be a way to exercise that is nothing short of fun.
I submitted a 1700-word short story to an anthology that will be published in the coming months through the Bay Area Young Survivors (BAYS). All the proceeds will go back to support BAYS programming and a little part of my (and my family’s) story will live out in the world.
In February, Mary and I are flying to Palm Springs with some of my college girlfriends to have some fun in the sun for no other reason than just that. I cannot wait to reconnect with them and explore Joshua Tree National Park, a landscape that has been high on my list for many years.
My hair is coming in thick, curly, and strong! Some days it is a little out of control but in the best kind of please-never-leave-me-again kind of way. Over these 9 months of regrowth, it has taken on all kinds of looks. I cannot wait to see what it looks like in 9 months to come.
Nate turns 38 (!!) in 2 days (though mentally speaking he may argue he’s turning 83). His ideal day, as described to me, will consist of surfing at Muir Beach, roadside burritos, and a stop off at David and Ellen’s for a socially-distanced hello, followed by an evening dip in his mom’s hot tub. He’s an easy man to please.
