Tuesday, September 12, 2017

*.✫*¨*.¸¸.✶*¨`*LUMPECTOMY*.✫*¨*.¸¸.✶*¨`*


lump·ec·to·my
ˌləmˈpektəmē/
noun
  1. a surgical operation in which a lump is removed from the breast, typically when cancer is present but has not spread.

Funny how we don't hear about words and relate them to us personally. We hear diagnosis and stories and feel compassion for those on the receiving end. Never do we put ourselves in that "receiving" end. Those things don't happen to us. Right? 

Well, all year, I have been on the receiving end. All year I have struggled and all year I have been the patient. The first time I noticed an issue, like everything we don't want to deal with or accept, I swept it under the rug. Damn, that rug is pretty freaking lumpy, but then the issue kept presenting itself. It just wasn't going away, it was hanging on. So, I shared my story with my friends and made an appointment. My primary doctor immediately sent me to my gyno, she said you need a surgeon ASAP. In the midst of this I had a mammogram with a physician present (requested by my primary) it wasn't a pretty appointment my issue was present and prominent. After my mammogram I was directed to wait and then sent in for an ultrasound. There I was in a room with women awaiting to hear their next step. I was sent home and soon after I saw a surgeon. I had a skin issue (a lesion) that he wanted to treat that just didn't work out how he had hoped.

A month after my first appointment with the surgeon my case was worse. He immediately cut a piece of my nipple off and I was sent home bandaged up and in pain, that was a Friday. On Tuesday morning, I got a call from my doctor saying  that the biopsy was benign. So we discussed my next step, which was surgery. I also had a tumor in my breast that needed to come out.

Well, the surgery to remove the tumor in my breast and the lesion that never ever healed was last week. I was nervous, I'm a mom of a special needs child and I know how important I am to him. I'm a wife, a daughter, a full-time employee,a friend, my roles are endless; like yours. I had no time to get sick, I had no time to heal, to recover. I now see how stupid that is. So, I go in, my hubby of almost 18 years drives me and is by my side every step of the way.  He got to talk to the team taking me in and the surgeon spoke to him after.

I'm home in pain and recovering. Everyone talks about how important their spouse is and mentions the vows we take; through sickness and in health. Let me share this with all of you. My breast was cut open, a tumor removed, my nipple butchered. I'm feeling pretty low about it, I'm feeling worried about his reaction, how he will see me now. I'm not that 19 year-old he fell for, or the 25 year-old he married, or the 29 year-old that gave him his only child. No, now I'm a 43 year-old woman who now has an incomplete breast which I loved and was so proud of. They are dubbed my girls, I dress them up dammit my 42 DD's look good in only the best bras. 

It's now two days after my surgery and its time for the bandages to come off. Its late at night and I need him to help. Well, what does he do. He builds me up. He kisses me and tells me how beautiful I am and how much he loves me. That he is proud of me. That he's happy I'm here with him.

That was him taking of my bandages and not once making me feel ugly, unwanted or broken.

That was two days ago. I'm still in awe of him and how he went about the process of my reveal to him. I needed to share this with you all. I'm not sure if anyone will read it or care. But, this is part of my healing my acceptance and my journey.

May you all find someone like this, may you all know how beautiful and loved you are. May you always find a way to take care of yourself and be the warriors we women were meant to be.