The Long Road Ahead
Mastectomy-ville
Anna had her mastectomy today. We awoke to a black sky at 3:30AM, drowsily took showers, left the boy with his Nani (Anna's mother), and took off for the airport. Her father and stepmother are also in town, as well as her cousin, all up from South Carolina. We signed in at the hospital and braced ourselves for a long, stressful day, and the day was just that. At about 7:30AM, she met with her anesthesiologist (funny irony-- he was my anesthesiologist years ago for a hip replacement). Soon after, her surgeon (a fantastic person by the way) met again with her, and finally set off to prepare for the procedure. We were finally all escorted out of the pre-surgery area, and directed to the family waiting room.
Wait. Wait. Waaaiiitttt. Wait.
The hospital provided me with a pager that would notify me whenever any news was available. It looked just like one you would be given if you were in line to get a table at a chain restaurant, and much like a hungry, impatient customer, I kept checking and tapping the damned thing to make sure it was working. Finally news. I got a call from the OR, and they were just finishing up. Soon she would go to the recovery room and slowly emerge into the waking world again. More waiting. "C'mon, Anna! Let's get moving here!" We all passed the time trading jokes and telling stories. Southerners, especially my father-in-law, are always good for fun jokes and stories. Whether it's the accent, the execution, or the combination of both, the world may never know. I personally enjoy their scotch too, but perhaps that's a subject for a different time. Wish I had some today, though. I think hospitals should work on that. The Scotch Wing.
Another page. "Everything is fine, but Anna says you have her inhaler, and we'd like you to bring it down to Recovery if you could." "No, you can't see her yet."
Finally her surgeon met us in the waiting room with wonderful news. She was very happy with the procedure, and felt very positive. She removed the breast tissue, nipple, and skin, and scraped some lymph nodes from under her arm. We've looked at the incision area, and we all feel she did a wonderful job. I whispered to Anna, "When it heals, I'll kiss your blank spot." She laughed.
I have to thank my mother and stepfather, who arrived from Yakima with a t-shirt for everyone present with our new mantra printed on. We must have looked like a softball team out in that waiting room. Many staff members enjoyed the slogan, which proves that I'm a genius. That and these looks? Anna is a lucky woman... Well, save for the whole cancer thing.
Sigh. Speaking with the surgeon, finally seeing my wife, and knowing how well the procedure went is an enormous weight off of my shoulders. I know there's a long way to go, but I'm more positive now than ever, and I feel like I can go into the chemotherapy phase of this journey much stronger. When we get the results back from the removed tissue, we'll have a better idea as to whether Anna will need to undergo radiation treatments as well. My fingers are crossed, my heart is strong, and I know we're going to get through this with armor intact. Love conquers all, right?
Anna had her mastectomy today. We awoke to a black sky at 3:30AM, drowsily took showers, left the boy with his Nani (Anna's mother), and took off for the airport. Her father and stepmother are also in town, as well as her cousin, all up from South Carolina. We signed in at the hospital and braced ourselves for a long, stressful day, and the day was just that. At about 7:30AM, she met with her anesthesiologist (funny irony-- he was my anesthesiologist years ago for a hip replacement). Soon after, her surgeon (a fantastic person by the way) met again with her, and finally set off to prepare for the procedure. We were finally all escorted out of the pre-surgery area, and directed to the family waiting room.
Wait. Wait. Waaaiiitttt. Wait.
The hospital provided me with a pager that would notify me whenever any news was available. It looked just like one you would be given if you were in line to get a table at a chain restaurant, and much like a hungry, impatient customer, I kept checking and tapping the damned thing to make sure it was working. Finally news. I got a call from the OR, and they were just finishing up. Soon she would go to the recovery room and slowly emerge into the waking world again. More waiting. "C'mon, Anna! Let's get moving here!" We all passed the time trading jokes and telling stories. Southerners, especially my father-in-law, are always good for fun jokes and stories. Whether it's the accent, the execution, or the combination of both, the world may never know. I personally enjoy their scotch too, but perhaps that's a subject for a different time. Wish I had some today, though. I think hospitals should work on that. The Scotch Wing.
Another page. "Everything is fine, but Anna says you have her inhaler, and we'd like you to bring it down to Recovery if you could." "No, you can't see her yet."
Finally her surgeon met us in the waiting room with wonderful news. She was very happy with the procedure, and felt very positive. She removed the breast tissue, nipple, and skin, and scraped some lymph nodes from under her arm. We've looked at the incision area, and we all feel she did a wonderful job. I whispered to Anna, "When it heals, I'll kiss your blank spot." She laughed.
I have to thank my mother and stepfather, who arrived from Yakima with a t-shirt for everyone present with our new mantra printed on. We must have looked like a softball team out in that waiting room. Many staff members enjoyed the slogan, which proves that I'm a genius. That and these looks? Anna is a lucky woman... Well, save for the whole cancer thing.
Sigh. Speaking with the surgeon, finally seeing my wife, and knowing how well the procedure went is an enormous weight off of my shoulders. I know there's a long way to go, but I'm more positive now than ever, and I feel like I can go into the chemotherapy phase of this journey much stronger. When we get the results back from the removed tissue, we'll have a better idea as to whether Anna will need to undergo radiation treatments as well. My fingers are crossed, my heart is strong, and I know we're going to get through this with armor intact. Love conquers all, right?
posted by Kevin Ess at 6:51 PM
4 Comments:
Good to know that things are going smoothly so far. I am thinking of you guys all the time. The ridiculous sense of humor you both possess will get you through this all right.
Do you think Anna will let me do another painting? Like, before and after? Is that sick of me? I just know that she's beautiful and I like to paint her (she's the subject of more of my paintings than anyone else).
I once saw this show about a woman who had a double-mastectomy, and got a gorgeous 'halter' tattoo so she could go around topless. I loved it.
Continued good wishes from across the Pacific, and kiss Anna and Si for me.
Hooray hooray hooray-- we are glad to hear you are in high spirits and that things went well,
LOVE
kat mike and james
I am relieved to hear the surgery went well. Get well Anna! You are in my prayers.
Holland
Very happy to hear that the surgery went smoothly! You're in our thoughts.
Be sure to give Anna a big hug from all of us... On second thought, you should probably wait until she's healed before doing that. How about a high five instead?
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