“It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not
stop.”
Last week, I received a phone call from my mother. “Tracy,
you didn’t finish!” were the first words she said. “Finish what?” I said, a
little confused. She said “You didn’t finish telling your story. People are
waiting to hear the rest. You didn’t even get to the surgery yet.” Immediately
I felt nervous. She was right. I didn’t finish. I had to stop and think about
why I slowed down with the story. I know that at times I questioned whether
people really wanted to hear more. But the real truth is I was having a
difficult time writing about my journey—especially the part of it where I had
left off. I didn’t realize how traumatic the experience had actually been, and
writing about it was bringing out all of those emotions. I’m not an emotional
person, so this was uncomfortable for me. As a result, I just pulled back a little
bit and didn’t realize it.
My mom’s phone call helped me to recognize that I have not
written about the hardest turn of events that occurred (probably on purpose).
The comments, feedback and encouragement about this blog have helped
tremendously. I guess the best thing to do is to jump back in and keep moving
forward… I have the best people in
the world in my corner!!! So here goes:
The day of the surgery, my sister drove me to the hospital. I
know she sent messages to all of my friends, but, to this day, I have no idea
what the messages said. All I remember is getting sedated and then waking up.
My surgery lasted 4 ½ hours. I had assumed that when I woke up I would be all
bandaged up. I wasn’t. I was however definitely heavily medicated! I woke up, looked
down inside my hospital gown, saw these perky breasts and I yelled out, “Did
you do the surgery?” No one responded, so and I yelled again. “Hey! Did you do
the surgery? Did you get all the cancer out?” (Yes, I really yelled that! I
guess I need reassurance that it was removed. When they initially told me about
the cancer and its location, I kept thinking I could feel it and that it was
going to move somewhere. The cancer was messing with my head so much I couldn’t
wait to get it out!)
A nurse came over to comfort me and said, “Yes, your surgery
went well. You are in recovery until you completely wake up from the
anesthesia.” I think I dozed back off because the next thing I remember was
being wheeled into a room filled with flowers and cards. Everything seemed so
surreal. I don’t really like hospitals or sitting still, so I knew this was not
going to be easy. The best thing I remember was not being in any pain. I was on
pain medication that was connected to my IV, and all I had to do was push a
button to administer it anytime I felt uncomfortable. The staff really took care
of me at Northside Hospital. The nurses were the best. These were some strong
meds that kept me extremely comfortable!! I emphasize this because everyone
that came to visit would look at me like I was suffering, and actually I was
really comfortable. The surgery was the easy part (if there was an easy part).
It was the next step, the recovery, that was definitely the hard part…
(to be continued)
