My Breast Cancer Surgery Journey

This is part of a series of posts documenting my breast cancer journey and covers the start of treatment – mastectomy surgery – focusing on the lead up to the surgery and the fears I faced.  If you want to read about my breast cancer diagnosis, you can find it here. By sharing my experiences and emotions, I hope to help anyone else preparing for surgery.  

Discovering I needed surgery

Seconds before hearing I had breast cancer, I was introduced to an oncoplast breast surgeon. I had been waiting for a long time for the appointment, over an hour. Whilst waiting, I had seen nurses in light blue uniforms welcome people into a room near the exit. It seemed like the patients were in there for seconds before leaving entirely. I now think they were receiving good news. A dark blue nurse called for me to follow her. She guided me to a room tucked away behind the reception desk. I realise now these were the ‘bad’ news nurses.  

As soon as I entered the room and I was introduced  – the penny dropped. Putting 2+2 together I realised I had cancer and would need surgery. Eventually I learned that my treatment plan would include a mastectomy of my left breast. I won’t go into the details here (watch out for a mastectomy focused post in the future). I decided to have an immediate breast reconstruction with an implant. There are other ways to have a reconstruction but they weren’t viable for me.  

It was my first surgery. I was scared.

I’d never had surgery before, this was the first time. The worst medical experience I’d had was a pretty nasty gouge on my leg when I was 8 years old. I needed stitches under local anaesthetic. I can still feel the drag of doctors stitching up the hole – I am pretty sure this is when I became super squeamish.  So the thought of surgery really scared me. Even through I was In good physical health (apart from the cancer), I was frightened in the run up to the procedure – about dying whilst having surgery and at the same time worried about all sorts of small things – practical things like how my valuables would be safe whilst I was in the operating theatre, getting to the hospital on time (etc). 

Strange fears

Other than the leg, my most memorable experience was when my sister underwent surgery in her teens.  It was in the 90s and the anaesthetic appeared to be a truth serum when she came round.  So not only was I terrified of the op, the new breast and the recovery, I was also really worried I might wake up and say something I would regret. Or, worse, I would cause offence to any of the medical team keeping me alive. Some of my fears (hiding the much bigger fears) were

1.  I would be horrible to the medical team

2.  I would sh!t myself mid operation

3.  my post op sandwich would have avocado in it

In hindsight, the worries that consumed me were hilarious – all of them masking much worst fears like fear of death.  I now had a strong awareness of my own mortality thanks to the cancer diagnosis, and I had no sense of control.

As it happens, if I did embarrass myself on the operating table no one told me. The anaesthetic defaulted me to the thankful, quick-to-apologise person that I am.  I can’t even begin to wonder why I thought that the NHS might offer avocado in any form.  The food was comforting, like school dinners, but not the wholesome meals you would expect for hospital patients and certainly not the healthy diet I was used to .

What I liked and didn’t like

I actually really enjoyed the post-op meds – you can understand how people can get addicted.  Also, having a catheter along with some weird machine keeping blood pumping through my legs for 24 hours was brilliant – it meant I could drink copious amounts of water but didn’t feel like I had.  I couldn’t move and had to rest.

What I didn’t enjoy was the drain – I think I’m catching up with the trauma of that, still. No one told me about it – no one said anything about a thing being attached to me for a week drawing out gunge. The contents were vile.  And when I was finally allowed to move, the next day, I was scared about anyone coming into contact with the drain. I was also really worried about showering after the op  – I was scared of getting the plaster wet – and yes, at some point, I would have to change it and see the wound for myself. I mentioned earlier – I am super squeamish