Two weeks ago I went to the Cleveland Clinic to have my final expansion. I decided that it was worth the extra miles to drive all the way to the Clinic vs the Avon satellite. I decided it was worth putting more saline in at each appointment and getting pumped up more often. It was worth the extra pain and discomfort and extra inconvenience to be pumped up faster and be ready to start radiation sooner.
The radiologist looked at the calender at my first appointment and said she wanted me ready by tomorrow (11/7). I worked hard to be ready! 3 months after my last chemotherapy treatment is tomorrow and I worked my ass off to be ready.
I went to my last consult thinking I would have my simulation and start soon. While I was waiting for the doctor I was excited. "I did it!" I thought to myself. My plastic surgeon is satisfied with my foobs, I hit the deadline, and I'm going to be done with radiation by 2014...
I was going to post that I was thankful for nice comfy robes instead of the usual hospital gowns!!
But then they told me that they need to deflate my right foob to get the best angle during radiation. They want to minimize damage to my heart and lungs and in order to do that, he wants my right foob FLAT. NON EXISTENT.
DEVASTATED. PISSED. SAD. FRUSTRATED.
I am just getting used to these bad boys. I don't have to wear a bra. They are big and perky and the scars aren't THAT bad (by not that bad I mean that nobody will see them other than Aaron and my friends that are nosey;))
I went home and sat on my bed, in the dark, and cried. For more than a hour! The ugly cry where I don't take breaths and my chin quivers. I don't have one loved one that can stand to watch the ugly cry. I cried that cry.
Aaron came in and out of the room often to make sure I was ok. He laid with me a while and absorbed as much of the ugly cry that he could. He offered advice, reminded me that it's my choice of doctors, that I could get another opinion, that I should call my existing team to get reassurance and guidance.
I called Holly (my amazingly wonderful oncologist). She reminded me that we're working at the CURE. If I need her to be in my corner and call the mean radiologist, she will, but she thought I could make the decisions by myself after all of the information was collected, after I stopped the tears, and she even suggested a glass of wine...I haven't admitted to her that I'm a beer drinker. I like to pretend that I'm sophisticated sometimes;)
The PA at my plastics office pulled some strings and landed me an Avon appointment on Friday to deflate my foob. She reassured me that the process wouldn't be as painful when they re-pump because my skin and muscle will be more flexible. They'll be able to pump up faster and with less side effects. She told me that it was going to be fine and wished she could give me a hug right that second.
I posted the pouty picture above and immediately friends were mad for me, sad with me and prayerful always. Reminders to see the big picture, that I'm so close to the end, that they'll love me when I only have one foob were posted to facebook and in my text inbox. One girlfriend even had a beer in my honor (and I actually like her wine because she works at Mon Ami and they have the best wine ever!!);)
One of my fellow warrior sisters put a bug in the radiation nurse's ear that I'm one of hers. So now, even though I'm not at the Clinic, where my brother and sister in laws pull strings, I have a fighter in my corner for radiation. And you know what? Millers know how to fight. I can't think of a better family to have in my corner when I need fighters. So Kelly is fighting for me, working with me and keeping the process moving. I will have simulation on Monday and start radiation the following week. (Thanks, Rhi. Love you so much)
During Bible Study the leader asked us how and where we see compassion in our daily lives? During Bible study I was struggling find examples.
Really I just needed to think about my evening. Stories of compassion were ALL around me. Surrounding me when I feel DEFLATED. Holding me up when I need extra support. Loving me always.
Three months after my final chemotherapy treatment, I'm thankful for compassion.
Show compassion,
Uploaded with ImageShack.us
No comments:
Post a Comment