Adventures in Breast Surgery

This morning started, bright and early, registering for surgery at UCSF. The financial coordinator seemed very worried when she filled out the paperwork; it turned out that they didn't have my insurance update. My self-employment insurance is THAT BAD...people frown and shake their heads when they read the benefits! Well, good thing I now have new insurance, eh?

I first reported to Radiology to have the wires inserted into my breasts, to guide the surgeon to the tumor and biopsy locations. Lovely, I know. I bet you're wishing I would say more about it, in detail. It's your lucky day, because I will!

There was some confusion about whether they were supposed to do the wire localization in one breast or two. The order from the surgeon indicated just the right side biopsy. Previously she said she wanted both, and I know she had a hard time finding the lump in my left breast. Now, I'm not a big fan of having wires inserted into me, but I also didn't want my surgeon to spend a lot of time rooting around looking for a tumor. "Is it here? Maybe here? Over here?" Um, ew.

The radiologist reached the surgeon by cell phone. Because the surgeon was not in the office near her files, she wanted to make sure she was clear on the patient in questions. She said that the surgeon said, "Yes, I remember her, the young one."

I'm easily flattered. I grinned. "She called me the YOUNG one!"

They took me into the room where they do the core needle biopsy and had me do that whole routine with the weird table. They used this setup to insert the wire into my right breast. Thankfully, they numbed me for this. The doctor had trouble getting the right position for the left breast, so she decided to do this in another room guided by ultrasound instead, because my tumor just happens to show up better that way.

I know the doctors try to be comforting and reassuring, but luckily this one figured out quickly that I didn't need that, so we swapped funny stories while she did the second wire localization. She told me the most hysterical stories. I'd much rather laugh hard than have someone hold my hand; it's just how I am.

They rushed me in for mammograms, then developed the films and handed them to me. We were behind schedule and I was needed over at the hospital. They arranged for Nuclear Medicine to come to me and had me hang onto the films.

I was assigned a patient care coordinator who took me to my room to get ready for surgery. Now, everyone I dealt with today was wonderful...EXCEPT her. She spoke with an accent that was hard to follow, so I was straining to understand her. She was very impatient and condescending to me, and was downright rude to Kathy. She brought the pajama-like outfit I was supposed to change into with support socks, muttered some instructions, and left. I started to change into them when people started coming in to meet with me. A researcher had to have me sign a consent form for a study I was participating in and then the guy from Nuclear Medicine came in as I signed. I had absolutely no time to finish changing. The patient care coordinator came in, cast a disgusted look at me, and somehow decided that I didn't put the pajama bottoms and socks on because I was too big (what?!?). She grabbed them and walked out of the room!

Meanwhile, the guy from nuclear medicine had me lay down. We engaged in some polite chit-chat while he felt me up to find the lump. As yoy do. Then he opened a heavy duty metal case and took out a big syringe with the radioactive tracer in it. He injected it into the tumor, warning me that it might sting a little. I was quiet, though I thanked him as he left. Kathy looked at me and said, "I was watching your face. That really hurt, didn't it?" I nodded. Yowsah, that burned.

Next up was the anesthesia team, the resident who would be doing the surgery with my surgeon, a nurse, and some other people. At one point there were five people in the room all poking, prodding, and marking me. However, I must say that they were all very nice to me and to Kathy, too. I had always been afraid of having surgery under general anesthesia, but I didn't feel at all afraid today. I felt like I was being taken care of, and isn't that the best you can hope for?

The anesthesiologist was keen to understand how to properly start my CD player and put it on repeat so that I could listen to my relaxation CD the whole time. He injected me through the IV with something to calm me. They wheeled me into the operating room. My first thought was wow, there is so much equipment in there-it doesn't look anywhere near that crowded on TV! Then I don't remember anything else.

I woke up in recovery, freezing cold. I started shivering and couldn't stop. One of the nurses brought a heated blanket and gave me a shot of Demerol, then suddenly the shivering stopped. The resident had come by just as I awoke to tell me the good news -- my lymph nodes were clear! He came back a little later to see if I understood him, since I was groggy when he first spoke to me. That was sweet of him.

They moved me to a recovery room where I could sit up in a recliner-like chair. The nurse asked me if anyone was there for me. I told her Kathy was in the waiting area. Kathy came in looking very stressed out. It turns out that NO ONE TOLD HER how I was doing! She was waiting and waiting...they even closed the information station while she was still there...and no one came by. She was afraid something bad happened because by that time, I should have been out of surgery for HOURS already.

Recovery took a long time, even though I wanted to leave. I just felt awful for a while. I got a nasty migraine, but the nurse gave me ice to put at the base of my neck and somehow that helped. The surgeon came by and said that the surgery could not have gone better. She was really happy. She told me that she would call me with the pathology results if she gets them back before I see her next, on May 3rd.

The rules are that you can't leave until you...um...use the potty room, so I was drinking everything in site. I just wanted to go home. Once nature cooperated, Kathy got the car and they wheeled me out of there.

So, I'm home now. I'm hoarse and my throat hurts from the tube they put down me. I feel a little weird, but mostly okay. I promised to humor everyone and follow instructions for the first three days, including taking pain reliever. We'll see how it goes. The most important thing is that I'm with my kitties in our home and I did not have to stay overnight. Yay!

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