The Filling Station

I moved from Tuscaloosa, Alabama to Madison, Wisconsin on January 10, 2001. It was a miserable drive for many reasons. Mama, Jayme and I were all moving. And because we were all over the age of 16, we had 3 cars to drive.  Mama was driving an all-wheel drive silver Honda Passport. She was leading the caravan. Jayme followed in her Ford Taurus, and I was the caboose in my Nissan Altima. I had never driven in the snow, and as we used to say in high school, “Nuff said.” In hindsight, it might have been nice to have walkie talkies…keep in mind that in 2001, not everyone had a personal cell phone. I know it’s hard to recall a time where we could ride in a car for 14 hours and actually focus on the road, but it really wasn’t that long ago.

When we hit the Champaign/Urbana interstate changeover, the snow began to fall, and the ice began to form. It was nerve-wrecking, to say the least. Thank heavens we had nothing to distract us from the road. When we reached Highway 12 in Madison (“The Beltline”), it was nine o’clock at night, the roads were wet and glistening, and traffic was heavy. Mama veered over to exit, Jayme followed, but when I turned to look past my blind spot, it was too late. There was an eighteen wheeler between me and the exit. I slowed down, let him pass, and immediately moved behind him. But it was too late – I had already passed the exit. It’s not like I had a GPS – it was 2001! I don’t even think we had Napster in 2001, more or less a GPS…and more or less 3 of them! I had no choice. I pulled over on the side of the interstate, turned on my flashers, and had what I like to call a good old Southern conniption fit! I cursed my Mama more in that 3 minutes than I have ever cursed in my life (okay, that’s a slight exaggeration, but you get the gist). After the longest 3 minutes of my life, I sucked it up, turned my flashers off and my blinker on, and I got back on the interstate. I prayed as I got off at the next exit, returned to the Beltline in the opposite direction, and took the correct exit. I found Mama and Jayme at the Arby’s just off the Beltline, where Jayme was screaming at Mama, “You lost my sister!” Mama was ready to leave Jayme there to go out and find me, but timing was on our side. We were back together again, at the Arby’s in the slums (if you could call it that) of Allied Drive. We got through it. This is what we do.

I met with Dr. Quintero Tuesday. Dr. Quintero laughed after he read my blog for the first time, “I’m glad that my office was clean!” If you don’t recall, I had a total of 3 reconstructive surgery consults. One of the offices was, to put it lightly, disheveled, and I made mention of it in a post. Dr. Quintero’s office on the other hand, is nothing short of adorable. First, it is in one of the most desirable resides in Louisville – St. Matthews. The area reminds me of Montgomery, Alabama’s Old Cloverdale district. On the edge of the neighborhoods, there are great old homes that have been converted into businesses. And Dr. Quintero’s practice just so happens to be one of those converted homes. Angie is the first point of contact at the practice. She has the practice smelling like freshly lit candles, and there isn’t a speck of dust in the office…anywhere. And everyone in the office has a great attitude. I had no doubt after seeing that office that the people in it could take care of me with meticulous attention!

After a skin-sparing mastectomy there are several medical risks, such as infection, pneumonia, or blood clots. After those things, it seems that the most important complication is necrosis (a medical term for the skin dying). This happens if the skin does not get enough blood supply after the surgery. There’s not a whole lot that I could do to prevent this…it’s kind of like it either happens or it does not. In my case, my skin has stayed intact. I have some swelling and very little bruising, I have 2 drains that drain the fluid (so there are no dressing to be changed), and my incisions are glued (yeah glued, how cool is that?) together.  Dr. Quintero said that the only thing I had any control over out of all of those things is the slight yellowish bruising across my chest. He said that if I wanted to get rid of that, all I have to do is expose it to a little sunlight. It might cause a little drama in the neighborhood if I start lying out topless…even without breasts!!  I have a LOT more range of motion than I thought I would one week post-surgery. I am trying my best to taper off of my pain pills. And my spirits remain high. I am recovering just as I should…and Dr. Quintero was pleased.  He said that when I come back into his office next week, he will likely pull both of the drains and begin filling my tissue expanders. So from this point forward, I will refer to Dr. Quintero’s precious St. Matthews office as “the filling station.”

Let me go backwards a little bit about these drains. Naturally after surgery there is some fluid at the site that needs to be drained. I have plastic tubes coiled underneath my skin that drain said fluid to these little suction bulbs that fit into the palm of your hand. This isn't painful, but it isn't exactly comfortable either. The idea is that every day I will have less and less drainage. When the drainage is less than 30mL per 24 hour period two days in a row, they are ready to come out. I hate that Dr. Quintero will likely read this before my appointment tomorrow, and he will know that we are not there yet! Getting there...just not there yet. But as far as the drains go, they can't just dangle. They need to be "secured." The hospital sent me home with a string that goes around my neck to safety pin the drains to, and Mama bought a couple of drainage-pocket tank tops, but I've come up with a better method that I thought I would share. It turns out that there is an advantage to having been pregnant in the last year. Belly Bands! They are about $15 (the tanks were about $30), and you don't have to put your arms into anything! They can just sit across your belly, and they are flexible, so they are one size-fits-all, and they keep the drains in one place so that you can carry on with normal activities without having to rearrange. Useless information to most people reading this, but I had to share it because I thought it was smart. I think my chemo brain is slowly but surely taking leave.

The tissue expanders are like hard, empty implants under my muscle. Despite their thickness, I am still as flat chested as a twelve year old boy. It’s kind of nice not to have these ridiculously large breasts that I was so accustomed to. It does not hurt my back or shoulders to sit up straight, so my posture is improving daily. It’s actually amazing to me how much bulk breasts add to your body. Those 4 pound breasts have had me in a Large shirt for the past 10 years. I Skyped BF Nicole last week and gave her a profile view, to which my quick witted friend said, “You look thin…have you lost weight?” I replied, “Yes, actually, about 4 pounds! While wearing a Medium shirt is nice, I have to remember that it is temporary…maybe. Technically I get to choose the size of Shelby and Yvette, so I could potentially be a Medium Frey after all is said and done.

There are a couple of reasons that we use tissue expanders. The obvious reason is to expand the tissue. I have plenty of skin, but my muscles (which will lie over the implant) need to be stretched so that the implants will “fit” into the space. If you can picture yourself sitting on the floor with your legs straight out in front, then picture someone pushing your back so that you fall toward your knees. The stretch that you feel in your legs at that point – that’s what my chest feels like right now…constantly. This is aside from the incision pain and overall pain from the surgery. I expect that this is how I will feel every time the expanders are filled with more saline. The second reason for the expanders is that they “hold” the space that they create for the implants. They allow my tissue to heal completely before we place the implants. Once the implants go in, they should have ample “space.” The expanders do something else – they are flat now, but over the next couple of months, I will stop by the filling station to have saline injected into them. They will inflate, week by week, until I have decided that I am satisfied with their volume. Dolly Parton may be calling again before we know it!

Whatever recovery holds for me in the next couple of months, I know I will get through it. And I am 99.99% sure that I can do that without cursing Mama. She’s been a strong support for Nathan, the boys and me before, during and now after the surgery. I really don’t know what we would be doing right now without her. She was walking out the door yesterday, and Logan looked at her as he said with fear, “You’re coming back, right, DotDot?” And I thought, “Yes, praise God!” And I know we will get through this because I have faith, an amazing support system, and a positive outlook. I can’t go back to work until my drains are removed, I can lift 15 pounds, and I can get through the day without pain meds. I can’t pick up the boys until I can lift 25 pounds (yes, my 10 month-old weighs 25 pounds). I can’t drive until my drains come out. I can’t reach higher than my shoulders. I can’t lie flat – I sleep sitting up against a “study buddy,” and I cannot wait until I can lie on my couch and watch a movie. But I will get there. I know this, because this is what we do. 

Bean