Thursday, April 8th - One of the Hardest Days

Thursday was one of the hardest days of my life, even harder than being diagnosed with cancer and all of the uncertainty around that.

On Thursday I went back to my plastic surgeon for my post op appointment and to get my stitches removed.  Up until this point, I had not seen my incision.  My good friend Melissa went with me to support me through this process.  I didn't realize how important it was for her to be with me until Dr. Adelman slowly took off the dressing.

I had been warned by my family that Dr. Adelman said that there was extra skin that had to be gathered up when closing the incision.  But nothing prepared me for what I saw.  I was horrified.  My upper arm was still bruised and swollen.  The incision was longer than I had expected.  My extra skin stuck off of my skin like little mountains at the ends of the incisions. 

"Oh my gosh!  I have mountains on my arms!" I gasped as I look away from my incision.  I grabbed Dr. Adelman's wrist and said, "There are mountains on my arm."  He calmly said that is was just extra skin that he would be able to remove in his office in two or three months, after the wound has healed more. 

I really couldn't believe what I saw.  After struggling to pull the thread out of my arm, Dr. Adelman finally got my stitches out.  I asked him to cover it back up with gauze and tape.  I wasn't ready for anyone else to see it, except Melissa.  I needed some time to come to terms with it first.

As Melissa and I walked to the elevator, tears filled my eyes.  "Melissa, I have nipples on my arms."  We semi-laughed together.  We both talked about how it could have been much worse.  Melissa let me share my insecurities and let me be sad.  I am so glad Melissa came to this appointment.  I needed a woman, who could understand how hard it is to see your body change in front of your eyes.

On the car ride home, I learned that Melissa had gone to the doctor with two of her best friends when they saw their incisions for the first time after having mastectomies.  Again, I counted my blessings that this involved only my arm.  I knew that she was the perfect person to share this experience with; she understood.

After working half day with my children, I came home and decided I needed to exercise to get some endophrines going in my body.  When I was changing clothes, I decided to take off my bandage.  I looked in the mirror for the first time.  Uncontrollable sobs filled the bathroom.  I felt like a freak.  How could all this be happening to me?  I was a healthy 27 year old.

Thursday I mourned my arm.  I know that it sounds crazy and maybe vain, but I needed to cry.  Eric held me and said I was beautiful.  He told me it was okay to cry.  He allowed me that time.  The night ended with all of the things I am thankful for . . . not having a stub for an arm, not having chemo, having a cancer that is treatable quite possibly with only surgery, living in Houston close to MD Anderson, and knowing God is taking care of me.

I know I am in His hands and I am thankful He took on a marred appearance to save me. 

Today is Saturday and I am completely fine with my "new look".  My arm and I spent the day bonding as I wore a tank top around the house.  Today I can laugh about my arm.  Time heals.