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Wanting what we can’t have…

I spent a lot of time within the next several days thinking about everything I had discussed with my doctors. I thought I would be able to start my treatments right away and that soon enough I’d be on my way to a new city but, that wasn’t the case at all. I still needed to have more tests done and, I was also scheduled to consult another physician for a second opinion. This wasn’t going to be the fast, black and white process I wanted it to be. Actually, I was pretty naive in thinking it would, but hey, a girl can dream can’t she?

While processing my thoughts, one topic in particular did continue to cross my mind, no matter how hard I tried to let it go. Thinking about it made me laugh because it was a perfect example of how we as human beings have a tendency to want the things we can’t always have. Why is that? Why do we say we don’t want something but quickly change our minds when we are told we can’t have it anyway? If you haven’t guess it already, the topic I was referring to was the possibility of not having my own children.

Sure, at one time in my life I wanted to but, as I got older, it really didn’t matter if I had my own or chose to adopt. In fact, I had always wanted to adopt, even if I did have my own. There is nothing more gratifying to me then knowing I could provide a great home to a child that needs one but, for some reason, it was indeed starting to bother me.

It wasn’t that my opinion about adoption had changed. It was more the fact that I liked knowing I didn’t give birth to my own children because it was my decision and not because I just couldn’t. Again, I felt as though I had lost control over something that was my choice to make.

Each time I talked about it, I became more frustrated. Cancer, and the preventative treatments that followed it, had taken over my life again. To make things more difficult, the universe was reminding me of children every moment it could. Everywhere I went, couples were either getting ready to have a baby or just did. Even worse, was listening to people complain about having them at all. I mean, I’m not a parent but. I can imagine that having children has it’s challenges. It’s a huge responsibility and I give lots a credit to the many mom and dad’s I know that make it look so easy. Still, it upset me to see how some people took it for granted. They were so bitter and viewed it as more of a burden then a gift, not even stopping to consider what it would be like if they couldn’t have them at all.

I tried hard not to be judgmental but at times it proved to be very difficult. I just wanted so badly to help them see the beauty in what they had. I suffered with this for some time until I woke up one day and once again stopped feeling bad for myself. “That’s it!”, I thought, “I had already decided to adopt if I still wanted to have children one day so, in your face cancer!” Besides, who was I to assume people didn’t actually view their children as a gift. Perhaps they too were having a moment of weakness.

Then just like that, instead of taking ten steps backwards, I was taking a giant leap forward. There was absolutely no reason for me to feel bad because I wasn’t being forced to take an alternative route. I had made that choice long before cancer affected my life. It was time to break free from these emotional chains and continue to move forward. I had big dreams and I wasn’t about to let anything get in the way of my accomplishing them…

Stay tuned,

Elizabeth 🙂

 

 

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The second addition to ” My Oncology Team”…

Today I was scheduled to meet with the radiation oncologist. This time, since it was so close to work, I booked the appointment late in the afternoon. When I walked in, the office was very quiet and there were two very cheerful young ladies sitting behind the front desk. After signing in, I was given a stack of forms to complete. “There goes another tree with my name on it”, I thought to myself. I quickly filled them out and returned them to one of the girls behind the desk.

I don’t recall waiting very long before the nurse called my name and lead me into an exam room. This office was very different from the last. There were no windows in the exam room I was in and it was lightly decorated. It didn’t feel as cozy or welcoming but, I later found out that it was due to them relocating to a much nicer facility. In any event, I wasn’t aware of that at the time so I became a little nervous, not knowing what to expect. Was the lack of decor suppose to resemble my new doctors personality? I knew she was a female based on the name but I hadn’t heard anything more about her. Was she going to be cold and dry? Well, I was about to find out.

As my brain was trying to connect the pieces of the puzzle, I heard a gentle knock on the door and in came the doctor with a huge smile on her face. She instantly lit up the room and gave it the makeover it needed. She introduced herself and with just a few words I felt an instant connection. I could sense that she was a very kind and compassionate person.

After a little game of “let’s get to know each other” she asked me to change into a gown so that she could take a look at my incision. I was still healing well which was great news because I was ready to start treatment as soon as I was cleared to do so. I wanted to make sure that there wasn’t even one cell that could do me harm left behind.

She explained I needed to give my wound a little more time to heal and since I was also going to Moffitt for a second opinion, she recommended I wait to see what form of treatment they suggested before going any further. If chemotherapy was needed, I would have to wait till I finished the chemo before I could move forward with radiation.

She also wanted me to schedule an appointment to see a genetics counselor so that they could test me for the BRCA 1 and BRCA 2 gene. The fact that I was so young and with no known family history of breast cancer was starting to raise suspicion. If indeed I was positive for either gene, I wanted to do anything I could to prevent someone else in my family from going through the same thing I was. I had a younger sister and two nieces to think about. With a positive gene, the recommendation is to have a double mastectomy and hysterectomy as your risk of breast and cervical cancer are much higher. This was important information to pass on and it would be selfish of me to keep it to myself.

My doctor asked me how I felt about the possibility of not having my own children, should that be the case in the future, and I remember thinking, “with all of the kids in the world that need a good home, why on earth would I want to risk passing on a faulty gene to my offspring”? I had always been happy with the idea of adoption. In fact on a more recent note, prior to my diagnoses, I had decided that it was the best option because I didn’t want to be pressed for time by my “biological clock”. It was hard enough with society wondering why at 31 I wasn’t already married with children.

The truth is, I wanted to experience life more without the responsibility of having a child. I didn’t want to conform to societies belief that at my age I should already have children when I knew I wasn’t ready to give up certain freedoms that came with not having them. Who made up that silly rule anyway and when did it become so taboo to decide not to have children? I don’t think my doctor was to convinced but, she listen to my reasoning, gave me a smile and reassured me I was going to get through this. I was very happy to have her on my team.

Once I left the office I immediately called the genetics counselor to schedule my appointment. I would soon be on my way to Moffitt and I wanted to get as much as I could done before arriving. Little by little I was checking off items on my to do list and slowly I was able to see the light at the end of the tunnel…

Stay tuned,
Elizabeth 🙂

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My oncology team…

I was excited to finally be meeting the team of oncologists that would be overseeing my health. To me, it was a symbol of moving forward. Now, more questions would be answered and with that came a better idea of what my future would be like. My first appointment was with the oncologist. I remember walking into the office that morning and feeling overwhelmed with emotions.

Even though I had already completed my surgery, it wasn’t till I was in a room full a patients all being treated for cancer related issues, that it really hit me. We were all cancer patients. I recall being handed the stack of paperwork to fill out regarding my demographics, insurance, personal and family history. Somewhere in the world there must be one less tree that would have had my name on it as I’m convinced it must have taken the whole tree to make my packet alone.

I began filling out the paperwork and within minutes was called back into a small office. “Already?”, I thought to myself. The young lady asked me to sit in a chair located next to her desk and she began to verify my insurance and demographic information. She also asked me what pharmacy I preferred and made sure to save it in my file. Once we finished the verification process, I was asked to pay my portion of the consultation with the physician. I felt a little strange already paying for a service I hadn’t received but, I did so anyway and after receiving my receipt, I was directed back into the waiting room.

It didn’t take to long before a young man called me into the back room. At this point, the entire waiting room was full and the phones were ringing nonstop. I followed the young man down the hall where we made our way into a room with several recliner like chairs lined up next to each other. I was asked to sit in the very first chair. This room was designated as their laboratory/draw station.

The phlebotomist drew some blood which thankfully was painless. I watched as he processed my lab order and placed a label with my name on each tube. He worked so quickly and gracefully. Once he finished, he turned to me, smiled, and asked me to follow him again. Still with the stack of paperwork in my hands, I followed him into an exam room just down the hall. Here, he asked me to wait patiently for the doctor.

As I waited I finished filling out my paper work. The office was cold but well lit and surprisingly felt full of life. A gentleman knocked on the door, came in, and introduced himself as the physician assistant. He reviewed the records that had been sent to the office as well as provided me with his thoughts on my recovery and treatment plan. He explained himself very well and asked if I had any questions for him at that time. My mind was still processing some thoughts in that moment so I said no. After acknowledging my response he excused himself and returned with my physician.

My new oncologist was a complete joy. I was impressed with his attention to detail, patience while explaining my condition to me, and his ability to talk to me as a real person. When he spoke to me, he genuinely took the time to get to know Elizabeth, the athlete, and not just Elizabeth, the cancer patient. In our conversation I learned that he too was a triathlete and instantly we had formed a bond. He understood my need to get back into my athletic routine which for so long had been very important to me.

This was already an amazing start to our doctor/patient relationship. I remember him taking off the wristband he was wearing and handing it to me. He joked, expressing the wristband hadn’t helped him win any races and that maybe it would bring me better luck. I was touched by the gesture and accepted the gift. The wristband read, ” The power of positive thinking”. It couldn’t have been a more appropriate reminder.

After a small physical examination of the surgical site, he reviewed my records. In summary, his recommendation was for me to establish with the radiation oncologist to discuss radiation treatments, schedule an appointment with my gynecologist to further evaluate the area of concern in my pelvis, and to schedule an appointment with Moffitt for a second opinion on the 1 lymph node positive for a single cluster of individual tumor cells.

I immediately asked if he thought this meant I would need chemotherapy but, he assured me that his recommendation for me to go to Moffitt for a second opinion was not because he thought my condition was worse than I had imagined. Instead, it was him wanting to cross all his “t’s” and dot all of his “i’s” before starting any form of treatment I may or may not have needed.

This was comforting and once again I was filled with peace. All in all, this appointment was full of good news and I was extremely pleased with the doctor and other healthcare professionals that were now involved with my care. I felt safe and understood, two of the most important things a cancer patient could ever feel…

Stay tuned,
Elizabeth 🙂

*** Note to reader ***

You can view the wristband given to me during the appointment in my photos tab. 🙂

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Inconclusive results and work challenges…

During my recovery I had been scheduled to do a CT scan of my pelvis to rule out anymore cancerous activity. I had received the results of the scan only to find that once again they were inconclusive. The area of concern couldn’t be clearly identified so, the question still remained, “what was it that lit up during my PET/CT scan”?

We were beginning to think that it may have just been a mistake and, since I was being scheduled to meet my oncology team, the recommendation was to allow the oncologist to review the results and determine what further tests needed to be done. Although I had my concerns, I was no longer as fearful of what the results might be. The fear had slowly disappeared leaving me more at peace.

My first day back at work finally came and I couldn’t have been happier. It was refreshing to have a change of scenery and be around people again. I was still coping with the emotional turmoil I held inside me but, being around people that didn’t know about my journey was refreshing. Cancer had already taken over so much of my life that is was nice to still have a part of me it hadn’t touched. At work I was the same old Elizabeth and it felt great. This helped balance me emotionally but, physically I began to cross new challenges.

I couldn’t work as quickly as I did before. My ROM was much better but the amount of weight I could handle was very minimal. While working with patients, there were times I needed to assist in lifting them and that proved to be a challenge. So much, that I would have to call for assistance, as my number one concern was patient safety. Working with heavy files was also difficult but, eventually I figured out a way to work around it and was able to find my own rhythm again.

It wasn’t long however, before other aspects of my recovery slowed me down yet again. The skin on my left arm and breast area had become so sensitive. It felt as though it were on fire. Each time my clothing or bra would rub against it I wanted to scream. Can you recall a time when you had a really terrible sunburn? One so bad that the best remedy was to be in the nude? Well, multiply that several times and that’s what I felt. To make things worse, when I would sweat, even the tiniest bit, it would sting like salt to an open wound.

My doctor had warned me about the discomfort I would feel because of the nerves that had been disturbed during my surgery but, I never imagined it to be so painful. I just wanted to lock myself up in the bathroom and cry. In my desperate attempts for a quick solution, I began to utilize ice packs to somewhat numb the area and keep it feeling cooler. It seemed to be working so, I did it as often as I needed to in order to remain sane at work.

This continued for weeks before it eventually calmed down and became more tolerable. I just kept telling myself, ” if this is the worse thing that happens today, things are really looking good because it could certainly be worse”. I’m fully aware of the fact that we shouldn’t write off our own hardships as something we need to just simply get over but, there were others going through far worse and it helped me to stay focused on the positive…

Stay tuned,
Elizabeth 🙂

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The start of my emotional roller coaster….

I was successfully reaching my physical goals during my recovery but, emotionally I was riding the most intense roller coaster of my life. The kind that made your stomach tie itself in knots and could make you lose your lunch. Since the beginning of my journey I tried to keep a very positive outlook. I refused to say things like “I’m going to win my battle against breast cancer” or even refer to it as the “fight against breast cancer”. Why? Well, it all starts with the “law of attraction.”

My partner and I were so turned off by the amount of negativity in words like “fight” and “battle”, that we agreed to use less aggressive words. For example, instead of “my battle with breast cancer”, we refer to it as “my journey with breast cancer”. Did you notice the difference? One almost instinctively sends you into “defense mode” where as the other places you into a sort of “daydream” as I like to call it.

A journey is often times associated with something positive so your mind begins to create happier thoughts allowing you to question the good that can come of your current situation. For a while this really worked for me because I was genuinely ready to explore what this gift was trying to teach me. However, even the most positive people can hit extreme lows. That’s what began happening only days after my surgery. I was motivated to set physical goals but emotionally I had become angry and resentful.

Why me? I’m a good person. I even began to question god himself. With so many bad people out there, why did he choose me? I have never be one to wish anything bad on someone else but I was just desperately trying to find logic in something that I couldn’t understand. I felt like such a terrible person. How could I question god and his plan for me? Why couldn’t I just be happy that I was given another chance and continue to see it as the gift it was? I realize now I was chosen because of my strength but none of that made sense then. I was fearful of the unknown and I felt tainted. I was marked by this disease and I would forever be known as the girl with cancer. I felt like somehow I had lost my identity.

I had so much time to think in those two weeks and all I was doing was feeling bad for myself. At times I would even cry myself to sleep. I was so scared of the cancer still being there after surgery or the possibility of it coming back. My mind was playing dirty tricks on me and making me sick to my stomach. I had reached a new level of weakness and vulnerability. A side of me I never wanted to encounter. I wanted so badly to set a positive example and resemble a woman full of courage and strength but the truth is, I was a frightened little girl drowning in my own fears.

I remember asking god to please help me find my purpose in this journey and apologizing for my ungrateful behavior. There were people losing there lives because of cancer and here I was complaining I ever had it, even after a successful surgery that had removed it from my body. “I’m such a horrible person”, I thought to myself. I couldn’t believe how selfish I was acting and how much I couldn’t control those emotions. I think back to that moment and realize now that the emotional roller coaster I was on was normal and all part of the journey but, in that moment, all I could do was write and pray that I would one day regain my sanity and again feel like the Elizabeth I once was…

Stay tuned,
Elizabeth 🙂

 

*** Note to reader ***

Wishing you all a wonderful weekend!! See you again Monday! 🙂

 

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My athletic desires…

I wasn’t ready to jump on the bike or go for a run but, I was determined to start setting goals and accomplishing them during my two weeks of recovery. I didn’t want to just lay in bed doing absolutely nothing. I was an athlete. Prior to my journey with breast cancer I had a very active lifestyle. I had run several 5k’s, a 10k, 2 half marathons, completed a metric century, started mountain biking, and in September had just done my first triathlon. My next goal was to run a marathon.

It wasn’t about exercising to be skinny, it was a lifestyle. I was addicted to the adrenaline I felt after each race and training session but, most of all I enjoyed the amazing people that I met along the way. I had developed an extended family and I missed them. I also missed the outdoors and how healthy and energized my body felt. What I had been feeling in that moment was so foreign and uncomfortable. I needed to find that place again so, I did what every athlete does, started setting goals.

It wasn’t anything drastic but it was a start. My main goal was to regain the range of motion I had lost in my left arm. I could barely lift it to wash my own hair so after about three days of recovery that’s what I tackled first. I found the shower to be the perfect place to start my therapies because the warm water would loosen my muscles enough for me to start stretching. My first goal was to get my arm up high enough to wash my hair comfortably. It had been days since I had been able to do this on my own.

I started by placing my hand on the shower wall and using my finger tips to slowly climb up while bringing my body closer to the wall. Most people refer to this technique as the “wall climb”.  It allows the muscles located in the area of the armpit to stretch out. It was very difficult and I admit painful at first but I progressed quickly and before I knew it only days had passed and I was finally able to wash my own hair. “Yes, I did it!” Seems like a silly thing to feel so excited about but, you’d be surprised with the things we take for granted when they come so easily.

The next goal I tackled was brushing my hair. I’m not a lefty but I wasn’t able to lift much weight at the time and I thought using my left hand to brush my unruly curly hair would be a good way to use a bit of force without injuring myself. This too helped with my range of motion. I started doing the wall climbs outside of the shower to allow my muscles to stretch without the assistance of heat and began working on reaching up over my head and bringing my hand as far down my back as I could. I was shocked to see how little I could do when I had always been more flexible on that side.

I used the assistance of a small towel to help me get to my desired goal of reaching my hand right into the space between my shoulder blades. In order to do this I would grab the towel with my left hand, raise it above my head and bend my elbow enough to allow the towel to hang on my backside. I would then place my right hand on my lower back, grab the towel and slowly pull it down bringing my left hand closer to my goal.

It was tough and in all honesty there were moments I wanted to give up because it just seemed so easy yet I was struggling so much. I felt like I was starting from the very beginning after having come so far. Everyone around me was progressing at incredible speeds in their prospective sport and here I was taking baby steps to perform the simplest tasks. I had to constantly remind myself how far I had already come within a week and that it wasn’t going to be like this forever.

I was reaching my goals, big or small, and I needed to stop being so hard on myself. I was able to brush and wash my own hair, I was reaching for things in the pantry and making myself food. That’s something I couldn’t do before. I was accomplishing what I set out to do and soon enough I would be the athlete I once was.

While achieving my physical goals however, I was also facing another struggle. One I chose to ignore from the start of my journey. It was during those two weeks of my recovery that the emotions I had hidden for so long exposed themselves and I was forced to meet face to face with a side of myself I never wanted to encounter…

Stay tuned,
Elizabeth 🙂

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My 2 weeks of recovery…

I woke up the following day after surgery feeling like a train wreck. I wasn’t in extreme pain but I was exhausted and still drowsy from my medications. I was actually able to get around pretty well. I’d say the only surprise I had that day was the blue urine I had as a result of a dye called Lymphazurin used during my surgery to help locate my sentinel node. I was a smurf for the day, no problem! 🙂

All was going well until a few days after surgery when I finally made the decision to stop my pain medications. I couldn’t take it anymore. They were making me nauseas, constipated, bloated and I was gaining a substantial amount of weight. Within just a few days I had gained about 10lbs. I felt horrible and it had nothing to do with vanity. I just felt like I was accumulating everything and releasing nothing resulting in my body feeling like a toxic dump. It took several days before my body began to regulate itself and I was beginning to feel uncomfortable but, the pain I felt from not taking my medications was well worth feeling more like myself again.

My surgeon called me within the first week to see how I was feeling and to report his findings. I explained what I had been going through and he reassured me it was normal. Till this day I honestly couldn’t have asked for a better surgeon. He kept me informed of his thoughts every step of the way and it made me feel like I too had a say in what was happening. That’s a big deal to anyone let alone an ex control freak like myself. I wanted to be involved in everything no matter how big or small it seemed to anyone else. It was my body and I had the right to know what was going to happen to it.

He made mentioned that after the biopsy of my sentinel node they observed the cells carefully to see if the cancer had spread and, to his surprise he found 1 lymph node positive for a single cluster (5-6 cells) of individual tumor cells. Since it was such a small count he removed only a few lymph nodes but needless to say it was something to consider when I sat down with my oncologist to discuss my treatment plan.

You can only imagine how I translated this in my head. “Why is he so calm? I was told the cancer was incapsulated. If it was, how did any of it, even the tiniest bit, spread to the lymph nodes? Wouldn’t it have been better to just remove them all?” I was scared and no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t understand how that wasn’t a big deal. My surgeon reassured me and helped put me at ease.

I later received a separate phone call with the news about my PET/CT scan. There was an area of concern in my right pelvis. “What?” I began to have flashbacks of the times my gynecologist suggested I have an ultrasound to keep an eye on the cysts I was developing. Prior to surgery we had talked about the correlation between breast cancer and cervical or ovarian cancer but, I wanted to believe that since I found my breast cancer on time, it wouldn’t have had the chance to spread elsewhere. However, regardless of what I thought, we had to be certain so I was scheduled for a CT scan immediately.

My family and closes friends were concerned. I hadn’t even finished recovering from my surgery and they weren’t sure if I could handle this or even be up to doing more tests. In all honesty, I wasn’t. I was afraid to know that I could have been wrong and that the cancer may have spread. That would have been the second thing I let go by. How could I live with myself? Than again, how could I live with myself now delaying something so important? If indeed there was cancer, waiting wasn’t going to change that and could potentially make it worse.

I wasn’t cleared to drive yet and since my mom and I worked in the same office we weren’t able to be off at the same time. This again was the perfect example of the importance of a solid support system. Without any hesitation my bosses wife told me she would be picking me up and accompanying me to my appointment. In fact, when the day came, she even sat in the room with me while I had my scan done to make sure they had me in a comfortable position and that I didn’t feel alone.

Between the many beautiful cards filled with words of love, prayer and encouragement, the beautiful bouquets of flowers and edible arrangements and the occasional house visits, I had all of the support anyone could ever wish for. There was still a long journey ahead but I wasn’t going to be alone. I was reminded of that again within those few weeks of recovery and it gave me the strength I needed to continue…

Stay tuned,
Elizabeth 🙂

*** Note to reader ***

Be sure to check out my photos tab to see pictures of me taken during my recover. 🙂

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Is it already over with…

My eyes began to open slowly, one at a time as they tried to adjust to the lighting in the white ceiling above me. I moved my head from side to side and thought to myself, “where am I”? It took another moment before I realized that my surgery was complete and I was in the recovery room. After a few more minutes of looking around at my surroundings, a nurse came over to my bedside and told me that during my surgery there were no complications and that everything had turned out well. I pondered a moment over what she had told me and smiled. It was music to my ears.

Once I no longer felt nauseas the nurse stood me up and transferred me into a chair. My family was then given permission to come in and see me. I was still pretty woozy but it was so nice to see them again. It appeared as if they had been there all night, due to the tired look on their faces, yet to me it felt as if I had taken a short nap. I engaged in a little chit chat but became nauseas again and above all I was starving. I hadn’t eaten all day and it was already late in the evening. The nurse suggested I chew on some ice chips and sip on some sprite but after begging just a bit longer she gave into my request and allowed me to eat some crackers.

I was so happy to be done with my surgery. It was the symbol of my starting with a clean slate. I understood there was still a long road ahead but, in that moment I felt that I had jumped my tallest hurdle. The nurse began to give me instructions on my post operative care but, after a while all I wanted to do was go home. Once she finished, she handed me the packet of instructions she had just gone over. I then said my goodbyes to all of the amazing nurses and people who took care of me and we were on our way home.

We arrived at the house pretty late from what I could recall and we were all exhausted after such a long day. When I finally got to my room I laid down with the intention of watching a little tv but, as soon as my head hit the pillow it was good night and sweet dreams…

Stay tuned,
Elizabeth 🙂

*** Note to reader ***

Here is a short post-op video I thought I’d share with you all. It was taken in the recovery room by my family. Enjoy! 🙂

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Elizabeth here checking in for surgery…

The day of my surgery had finally arrived. There were still so many questions to be answered but, the one thing I knew for certain is that I was going to leave home that morning with a cancerous tumor and come back without it.

My mom and my partner accompanied me to have my lymphoscintigraphy scan done prior to checking in at the hospital. I’d say I was pretty calm when we arrived but, once they called my name, I began to recall the steps of the procedure and became very nervous. It would be similar to the biopsy I had done only there were more injections and they didn’t really contain a numbing agent. I felt every single one. The worse one was the one right by my nipple. I’m glad I was strapped down because I might have knocked the technician and doctor out with just one swing!

The injections did finally came to an end and with my partner by my side the scans began. My mom was later brought in as well and it wasn’t long before they both just sat there laughing. I finally asked, “why are you laughing?”, and they both replied, “we’ve never seen someone go through something like this and yet have so much to talk about. You won’t stop talking.” I admit I’m a bit of a chatter box but, that day I was non stop like the energizer bunny. I suppose my nerves had gotten to me and instead of crying I was talking to anyone who would listen. Personally I think they enjoyed the entertainment as a lack of humor would have made the whole experience very boring.

It didn’t take to much longer before the scans were done and I was on my way to the hospital. My stepdad worked in the OR so he was already there. My dad had come straight from work and arrived moments before I did. The gang was all here and now we just had to wait for my name to be called.

We weren’t in the waiting room long before someone arrived to get me. I was so nervous that to tell you the truth I couldn’t even remember if it was a male or female. In that moment all that was running through my mind was, “when will I see my family again? Will it be before or after surgery?” It was such a quick goodbye. Fortunately, I was brought into a private room and only minutes later a nurse was already in there giving me my gown with matching socks and a bag for my belongings. She informed me that once I had changed and she had prepped my IV along with a few other things she had to do, my family would be allowed to come in.

With that being said, I changed as quickly as I could and once she was done my family was brought into my room. It was great to see them again. Even my boss stopped in to see how I was doing. Of course this later became the joke of the century. You see, I was completely calm before my boss showed up but thanks to today’s technology, everyone was alerted of my increased heart rate when he walked in the room. How embarrassing! It’s not that I had a crush on him, it was more the respect I have for him as a doctor. My partner refers to it as a professional crush and says it’s completely normal when you look up to someone so much. Nevertheless, it was still something I was teased about for months to come.

I had so many loving people around me and it was extremely comforting. The surgery was delayed by several hours and within that time there were videos made, pictures taken, jokes told and a whole lot of silliness going on. Finally, it was time to say goodbye to everyone. As they rolled me away on my bed I waived and gave them all a big smile. I dare to say in that moment I was even excited. Till this day I can’t figure out exactly why but, I can tell you it was short lived.

There I was, being transferred from one bed to the next and strapped down to the surgery table. The lights were shining so bright and the room was so cold. I was so nervous and it was then, while talking to one of the sweetest nurses I now have the pleasure of knowing, that I broke down into tears. It was as if all of the built up fear was pouring out of me all at once. She did her best to calm me down by reminding me that I was in good hands and that she had made a promise to my step dad to take good care of me. Between breathes I tried finding comfort in those words as they placed a mask over my mouth but, before I knew it, the anesthesia had kicked in and I was fast asleep…

Stay tuned,
Elizabeth 🙂

**** Note to reader ****

I’ve attached a short video clip of me taken prior to my surgery. It will give you a good idea of what my nervous chatter and building an image of fearlessness looked like. Enjoy! 🙂