For some reason I’ve been putting off writing this one. Not sure why but here goes. Bear with me as some of this is a distant drug hazed memory of what happened. I’m also still a bit dopey from the painkillers and I have no proof-reader on this occasion so let me off the odd typo please.

The Big Day

On the 20th of October I was rudely awoken to the sound of my Dr Dre ringtone at 7:25am from an unknown number. I knew exactly who this would be “Mrs Spencer I know you are not due to us today until 1pm but wondered if you could come in any earlier? Nicky (my surgeon) is here and can fit you in earlier” I don’t know what had happened but think someone had buggered up and I was supposed to be there long before 1. I took a couple of seconds to try and think of any excuse under the sun as to why this would not be possible but couldn’t. lets just bloody get on and get this done. No point sitting around for hours and waiting. “yeah sure. I can be with you by about 9:30”

I jumped in the shower, packed a bag and off we went to the Bath Clinic. A private hospital that the RUH were using for all their ops. Spence was not allowed to come in with me so dropped me at the door and we had a very teary and emotional goodbye. Teary for me anyway. Spence as always, held it together.

I was walked to my room by a girl who was about 16 and then before I knew it, it was full of people. I’d not even put my handbag down when a man called Tim came in. He was the anaesthetist. He asked me lots of questions and talked me through what would happen on his side of things. I asked him if he could give me something to help with the sickness after I came round, and he agreed he would. Last thing I wanted to deal with was feeling sick on top of everything else. Then off he went.

In came a nurse to get me in to a gown and some very attractive compression socks. Not one minute after I’d put my gown on, in came Nicky followed by a trainee surgeon. He was only about 12. She asked me to take the gown off. She whipped out a sharpie pen “just to check you are happy we are doing this on the right side?” “I bloody hope so! That’s what you’ve been telling me all along” but for a split second I really did have to think twice. I confirmed I was happy it was the right and with that she proceeded to draw a write all over me. I had a line right down the middle of me from the base of my neck to my belly button, a circle all the way around my right boob, arrows on my shoulder pointing to my right boob and the words “Aux No Cl” which is the auxiliary node clearance. “You will do a good job wont you Nicky?” I asked her. She agreed, laughed and off she went with her teenage trainee hanging on her every word.

In came another nurse. “as your op will be so long, we’ve been advised you will need to have a catheter” oh bloody great! “so, if you can remove your underwear as well please but I’m afraid we have run out of paper pants” by this point I honestly didn’t care. I was so nervous I had other things to worry about. The nurse left the room and for the first time all morning I was on my own. I cried.

“we are ready for you” in came a nurse and walked me down to the operating theatre. Luckily, my gown wasn’t open at the back as I had to practically walk around the whole hospital to get there. It was about 10:15am.

As I arrived just outside the theatre, I had to take a seat and confirm my name and DOB for about the 100th time that day. Like it had changed in the 5 minutes it had taken me to walk there. The nurse who I had been with all morning left me at this point with someone who would be in the theatre with me. I cried again. With that Tim opened the door and called me through. For some reason I thought I would be knocked out and then taken in but no. As the doors opened it was just like you see on the tv. The tables with all the instruments laid out, everyone in their scrubs, the huge bright LED lights above the bed.

Tim helped me climb up on to the bed and talked me through what he was going to do. Firstly, he numbed my hand a bit then inserted the cannula. That bloody stung. He then said he was going to give me something to relax me. I don’t know what he gave me, but it worked pretty damn quick. I can’t say I liked how it made me feel and I tried to snap myself out of it but wasn’t having any luck with that.

Nicky appeared and came and held my hand. It was just what I needed. Through my tears I spoke to her “I know this is what you do all the time Nicky but please look after me won’t you?” “I do operations like this every day Amy, but I remember every single lady I operate on and I promise I’ll do a good job”.

With that Tim appeared at my side. “we are just going to give you some oxygen now so take some deep breaths in” “Oh ok. Is this how it all……”

LOTS of Drugs

Next thing I know….. “Amy, Amy, Amy. Wake up” “yeah I’m here hi, hi, hi” I blurted out. Like I had been napping when I shouldn’t, and someone had caught me out. It was about 4pm. From what I recall there were three nurses with me in recovery. We chatted away for a good 45 minutes. They called Spence and let him know I was awake, and the op had gone well. At that point that was about all there was to say. The operation had taken about 5 hours in total.

Immediately after the operation I was advised that I would need to wear a tight sports bra, 24/7 for about 3 months. I had taken one with me so they could put it on after the op. This had not been done so between me and the three nurses we had to try and manoeuvre me into it. I was on so many pain killers at this point this was easier that it sounds.

I was taken up to my private room and attached to various drips and had my legs strapped into some weird 20th century torture device that massages your legs, one at a time every 20 seconds. To reduce the risk of blood clots.

I had pre ordered my evening meal before I went down to surgery not thinking for one minute that I would want it but surprisingly, I did. One of the breast care nurses sat and chatted with me and made me comfortable and helped me cut up my jacket potato and cheese. My throat was killing me. It turned out I had had a tube down it, not something they’d told me would happen but pretty standard procedure by the sounds of things. I was given some beautiful strawberry ice cream that helped followed by some painkillers and a shot glass filled with morphine. That was wonderful stuff! I was also on a drip with paracetamol in. Now the problem with being on this drip was that my bladder is about the size of a walnut so filling me full of fluid is not the best idea. I must have rung my bell to wee about every 30 minutes. Having to assume a shoulder plank position after having an operation was not the easiest of things but needs must.

Apparently, I rang a few people that evening to let them know I was ok, but this is all a bit of a blur to me due to the wonderful concoction of meds I was on. I was high as a kite on painkillers. I do recall face timing Jaz and discussing that I was not sure how people do drugs and go to festivals because the last thing I felt like doing right now was going out dancing. Jaz told me that it would not be the same kind of drugs and that I should rest. I was also very disappointed with the offering on the Great British Bake of that evening, but I think that was mainly due to the fact I was so cross-eyed I could not actually see it.

Nurse Ratched

I am not sure what time it was but later that evening the shifts changed and in came Ruth. Or as she should be known “Nurse Ratched”. Ruth was a short, rotund black lady who was either having a bad day or just hated me, nursing, the night shift and all patients. And I tell you why….

I had to regularly have my blood pressure taken during the night. I had a HUGE cannula in my left hand with tubes coming out all over the place. As soon as Ruth began to inflate the blood pressure sleeve thingy on my arm it felt like the cannula was going to explode out of my hand and fire across the room. I shouted in pain “The machine isn’t working because you are moving!!!” she snapped at me. “I don’t care its F**king painful” “fine. I’ll do it on your leg!” with that she tore it off my arm whist at the same time getting the pipe wrapped around my cannula and pulling on that too. She threw back the sheet and strapped it on to my leg. I swear she left it on too long to get tight just for the fun of it. She gave me some paracetamol and off she went.

Later that evening I needed to wee. I rang my call button and hoped that someone else might come to my aid. No such luck. In she came. Smacked the light on full blast “Yes!?” “I need a wee please Ruth” “well you will have to get up then” I explained that I couldn’t yet as I just did not feel steady enough or quite ready. She huffed and puffed and went off begrudgingly to get me a bed pan. I thanked her and tried to make conversation. She wasn’t having any of it. I secretly hoped she might trip on the way out.

I was trying to get some sleep but the pain, the things on my leg going “pisssssssssssssssssssst” every 20 seconds as well as the constant buzzing from my dressing was driving me mad. I rang my buzzer to ask for something to help me sleep.

Lights on full blast again, in strops Ruth “yes!?” “please can I have something to help me sleep?” in short “No” oh. Not quite what I had expected. I know, I’ll ask for some more morphine, that will help “my pain is pretty bad Ruth, can I have some more morphine please?” she flicked through some paper work hung on the end of my bed, thumped out of the room and came back with my shot glass full of morphine. That should do it.

Nope. 3am and I am still wide awake which surprised me as I thought with all the painkillers I’d be zonked out by now. I was browsing on my phone when Ruth smacked the lights on full brightness and stomped in again. “You need another drip” “Ok thanks. Ruth I’m still really struggling to sleep. Is there any way you might be able to take these things off my legs for an hour?” she begrudgingly agreed and turned them off. She left the room to get my drip ready. In that 10 minutes I managed to nod off, but little did I know Id fallen asleep with my legs crossed. More fool me! Ruth stomped back in and slapped me on the legs “if you are going to sleep like that you will have to have them back on” she put them back on me, set up my drip and left.

I think I got about an hour sleep before I needed to wee again. At this point I dreaded pressing my call button so decided I’d try and brave it the few feet across the room to my loo. I tried to move my legs. I couldn’t. I tried again. Nope. Ruth, bless her little heart had tied my legs to the bed like a scene from the film Misery. Oh, bloody hell! If I take them off Ruth will know I am trying to escape. I rang the bell and braced myself. The light came on dimly and in came a tall blonde, older lady “Hi. I’m Sue. Are you ok? You called?” Thank the lord! “has Ruth left?” I hopefully asked “no she is just with another patient” poor bugger. Sue released me from my bindings, helped me to the loo and set me back in to bed. Fluffed up my pillows and tucked me in. That was more like it. I liked Sue.

5am. Lights on full. Stomp stomp stomp. Here comes Ruth. “your drip hasn’t worked” she shouted at me. “it’s because you are on your phone and your arm is bent” oh sod off I thought. My phone wasn’t even in that hand. “Maybe you just didn’t do it properly RUTH?” I’m sure at this point she pressed down hard on my cannula just to be a cow.

Next thing I know it was 7:30am and it was shift change. I can’t tell you how relieved I was to see a new face. The nurse came in and asked me what time I wanted to go home. I had no idea at this point and explained Id had little to no sleep at all so could do with an hour or so. She agreed and put a “do not disturb” on my door.

8am Nicky arrived to see me. She was there very briefly. She wanted to check what was in my drain and have a look at the dressing to check it was working like it should be. There wasn’t much she could say as at this point. Until there had been any kind of biopsy on the tissue removed, they there was no way of telling if she had got it all.

8:30, still not been left in peace. The head surgeon from the Bath Clinic and nurse came in to carry out the same check. They asked me what time I was going home. I still had no idea. Surely it wasn’t for me to decide?

8:45 breakfast arrived. As did the breast care nurse. She was lovely. She talked to me for ages and answered any questions that I had. Breakfast went cold but I didn’t mind. It was very reassuring to have her there with me. I said I’d agreed to go home at 1pm and she said “no way. You stay as long as you feel you need too” we agreed that I would go at 4pm. I was anxious but keen to get home to my own bed and to see Spence.

3:30pm and the nurse came in to help me get dressed to go home. It was a bit of a faff with the battery pack for my dressing hanging off me as well as the dreaded drain. As I put on my top, I caught a glimpse of the dressing on my flat chest and I nearly fainted. I’m not sure if it was the shock or low blood pressure and no sleep or all of it. I sat down and composed myself and waited for Spence to come and get me.

Recovering at home

The first week I was home I barely got out of bed. I was uncomfortable, stiff, sore and sad. I slept A LOT but on and off. The buzzing from my dressing was driving me INSANE! The dressing was very clever and regulates the pressure on the wound to allow for optimal healing. It was like my wound was vacuum packed. However, every time I moved, it needed to readjust the pressure so rather than buzzing every 60 seconds it would buzz every 7-9 seconds. I wrapped it in a tea towel, I covered it with a pillow, I led on it, wrapped it in cotton wool, I tried EVERYTHING, but nothing would stop the sound. The only thing that helped was earplugs pushed so far in my ears it hurt. By Sunday I was ready to rip the batteries out and chuck the thing out the window. Spence managed to convince me not too.

On Saturday the 24th October Gemma turned 40. Her, mum and Charlie came over to see me. Visiting your recovering sister with a Greggs for lunch is not quite the 40th she’d had planned. It was lovely to see them but having not gotten out of bed for some time, even a short visit for me was exhausting. On Sunday Jaz and her mum popped over and washed my hair. As I was not allowed to shower and get my dressing wet it was quite a challenge. Jaz was in the bath in charge of wetting and rinsing and Sandra had to attempt to straddle me from behind to lather me up and apply conditioner. What would normally take me about 15 minutes took 3 of us about 45 minutes. Afterwards however, I felt a million dollars!

Whilst I was at home recovering, I was inundated with flowers, cards, chocolates, brownies and gifts. I LOVE getting post so this was my absolute dream. I even got the most fantastic cream tea sent to me by mum.

Spence has been amazing. He even said to me a few days after me coming home, whilst arranging flowers “I’m actually really enjoying all this housework babe” This I will NEVER let him forget. He’s been cooking, cleaning and making sure that I’ve been taking all my meds on time each day. I couldn’t have wished for a better care. Might get him to give Ruth some training.

Feeling Human again

A week after the operation I had to go back to the RUH to have the drain removed. I was dreading this. Id had this thing hanging out of me, catching on stuff and getting tangled up in my bed clothes for long enough. Kate and Karen were there to do this for me. Firstly, Kate took the batteries out of the dressing for me. It was bliss. The bloody buzzing finally stopped. Next, I was told to sit on the bed and take some deep breaths. After 3, Kate pulled on the drain. Now this didn’t hurt but I was the most peculiar feeling. It must have been up under my armpit because I felt this bloody thing slither out all the way from under my armpit, around the implant and out from a small hole just under my ribs. Without all my attachments, I felt human again. It was such a relief to have it gone.

That night was lovely to go to bed without earplugs in to stop the buzzing.

The next big day for me was last Friday. I was back to the RUH to meet with the surgeon, find out the results of the op and have the dressing removed.

The Big Reveal

Nicky was not able to be there as she was off on annual leave. I was met by her college and the surgeon and another trainee. Spence was with me as well.

“Great news. As far as we are concerned the operation went really well and the cancer is out” she looked at me like she was expecting me to applaud. “The cancer has been removed. You are cancer free” still, nothing. I had nothing to say. I felt nothing. No joy, no relief, no tears. It didn’t sink in at all. “ok thanks” was about all I managed. Turns out they managed to get clear margins around the cancer so that’s a good result. So, they tell me. They removed all of my lymph nodes and only two were cancerous. Good news but also annoying they took them all when they didn’t need too. When I asked about this, it’s because they take them all as one big mass and then its sum poor buggers job to sit and pick through my lump of boob when it arrives on his desk, and separate them all out to see which are bad and which aren’t. Rather them than me!

“Just need to get this dressing off now” I was not looking forward to this at all. I led on the bed in the consult room, ripping the stupid paper bedding as I did. The surgeon slowly peeled back the dressing. There was one where my breast was/is/will be, and another under my arm pit. No wonder that was so bloody painful, but I couldn’t see it as I’m not allowed to lift my arm high enough.

“That looks great! Nicky has done an amazing job. The scar is so neat and is healing so well. I’m really happy with that” now that was good news and something, I was more likely to applaud but I didn’t. There were a couple of little ends of stitches poking out which they nipped off and then they were gone. Kate, Spence and I were left in the room. “Do you want to have a look with me here Amy?” Kate asked. Now I know that this what they are trained to do, and I knew that it would be best to look with her there. That way if I have any questions about it Kate would be able to help me. I asked Spence to leave the room, so it was just Kate and me.

She sat me up and I looked down for a second. Then again. And then again.

It was not what I was expecting at all. In my head I had visions of some awful Halloween style scar with big black stitches poking out, dried blood and all sorts of gross things. Its not. It’s amazing and I’m soooooooooooo pleased.

There is a scar where my breast is/was about 5” in length. The implant has 150mls of fluid in so is not completely flat. According to Kate I have a good “mound” (awful medical term!) I even have a slight cleavage which is crazy considering. The scar just looks like it’s been drawn on in pencil. There is a big old swollen scar under my arm which hurts like hell but other than that I’m blown away by how good it is. If it stayed like this forever, I think I might be ok with it. unfortunately, however it can’t as the manufactures warranty runs out in 18 months!

I called Spence in and proudly flashed him my Foob. He said he was waiting outside ready for the screaming and tears but was amazed at how well I handled it. I’m so pleased that this is one less thing to worry about. I thought about posting a picture, but my Uncle Paul would disown me I think so I’d better not.

NB: I’m not sure that the term Foob is medical but in the cancer world a fake boob/implant is known as a “Foob” aka a fake boob.

Hot Dates for Your Diary

12th Nov – Back to the RUH to have the implant filled with more saline.

26th Nov – Meeting with Oncology to discuss my chemo. Many of you have asked if my cancer is out, why do I still need chemo? And that is a good question. Its being done as an “insurance policy”. There may well be a small little ba*sard cell that is hiding in my toe that no machine in the world can see. So, they will zap me with all they can in the hope they will destroy anything that is left.

14th Dec – Expected date for chemo to start. Just in time for Christmas. Yay!