NOTE: If you haven’t read the first three installments of this unexpected series, My first mammogram saved my life, Respect my coping skills and I’ll respect yours, and My lumpectomy was easy-peasy, I encourage you to read them. It’s not necessary to read them in order to understand what’s happening, but they will give you more context.

WARNING: This post gets a little graphic about my incision. I’ll give a trigger alert when I get there so you can skip that paragraph.

As I mentioned in my last post, I came home on Friday night and went straight to bed. Per my post-op instructions, I slept wearing a bra, something I’ve become quite accustomed to lately. I also took ice packs to bed with me. Actually, I’ve worn a bra 24/7 since surgery. It’s provided a great deal of support and relief.

If you find yourself in this situation, this is not the time to wear your sexy lingerie; comfort and function are your best friends. I actually went and bought a cheap cotton non-underwire bra for the occasion, but found that my stretched out “laundry day” bras were far more comfortable and provided more support.

Surprisingly, Sammy and Zoey were okay with going to bed at 6:00 p.m. on Friday night and behaved themselves all night. I slept in fits and starts all night, but managed to get between 10 and 11 hours of sleep.

Like with my biopsies, pain did not surface until the day after surgery when all the fun drugs they gave me had worked themselves out of my system. Saturday morning I woke up in not just discomfort, but pain. Although I picked up my prescription for Norco off at Walgreens, I still haven’t taken any. I’ve managed my pain with Extra-strength Tylenol, ice, and sleep.

I slept most of Saturday finally getting up for good at about 4:30 p.m. in order to make the meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and roasted veggies I’d been craving. It was the first meal I’d eaten all day and I am pretty sure I inhaled it. That night, I binge watched The Big Bang Theory reruns.

I’d been told that I could shower on Saturday morning and remove the top layer of gauze bandaging then, leaving only the Steri-strips. Because I slept so much, I never made it to the shower, but about 10:00 p.m., I decided I needed to remove the top layer of bandaging.

TRIGGER ALERT: Skip this section if you don’t want to know any graphic details.

As I stood in my bathroom and attempted to remove the tape as painlessly as possible, I realized for the first time why I had tape on my nipple. My incision is between 1.5 inches and 2 inches in length and goes all the way to my nipple.

At that moment, the shit got real.

I did not know the incision would be so long and so far into the center of my breast. I had been told that the growth was at about the 9:00 location (if you think of the breast as the face of a clock, with 9:00 being towards the center) and thought the lumpectomy incision would remain in that area.

RESUME READING: Graphic details are over.

Although I didn’t cry when I saw my lumpectomy incision, I was certainly stunned. I realized that this surgery, no matter the outcome, would scar me forever. My mom called it my battle scar, but to me, at this moment, it’s just a scar that I can’t make disappear. Maybe someday I’ll feel differently about it.

I now understand why women get so emotional about breast cancer. Our breasts are one of the most obvious symbols of our femininity. Our partners love them. My breasts have been part of my identity since I was eight (yes, I developed early). And now, one of them is scarred. Would mine still be lovable? I suppose the bigger question that went through my mind was, “am I still lovable?”

Saturday night, I went to bed with many unanswered questions; questions I still don’t have answers to and maybe never will. Knowing that worrying wouldn’t help me answer my questions, I turned on a guided meditation, focused on clearing my mind, and fell right to sleep.

Sunday I spent sleeping and binge watching Netflix all day. The pain worsened, but was remained tolerable with Tylenol, ice, and sleep. The one thing that had changed is that I’d lost my appetite and didn’t eat all day.

I did finally take a shower, although I must have stood with my back to the downpour for 15 minutes because I was scared of getting the incision wet. When I emerged from the shower, I put pajamas back on without looking at my scar. I simply can’t look at it.

Today I got up at 12:00 p.m. Once again, I was completely exhausted. I’ve been told that anesthesia has this effect and the best I can do is listen to my body. The good news is that the pain has lessened to moderate discomfort. I know this because I can lay on my left side for a few minutes without screaming bloody murder.

That said, I’m quite tender and I imagine I’ll only want Duggar-like side hugs for the foreseeable future.

As promised, the hospital called to check on me today. I told them I was doing pretty well and am even hungry. I thought I might head out of the house to take advantage of the gorgeous weather, but I never felt up for it. In the end, today was another day of R&R. I’ll probably take a shower tonight, but I still don’t want to see or touch my incision area.

Although I’ve clearly got some scars, both physical and emotional, from my lumpectomy, I’m still focused on all that I’m grateful for. The phone calls, emails, text messages, tweets, Facebook messages, and more are constant reminders that I’m not alone in this. I’m grateful for incredible technology that allows doctors to see funky growths before they turn into full-blown life threatening cancers. I’m grateful for insurance that can’t kick me to the curb or raise my rates because I now have a pre-existing condition or even one that costs them a lot of money. I’m grateful for coping skills that allow me to see the humor in the face of adversity and a calmness that fills me.

I’ll know the results later this week and I’ll share them when I’m emotionally able.

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