Susie, I would want to be just like your friend in her 70s-- no matter what cancer may keep coming back, I would continue to fight it and go on with life, in the best possible way I could.
Yes, the muscle that popped out over the expander is supposed to be put where its supposed to be when I get my expanders exchanged for the implants. However, I rightly do not trust anything to go as planned! lol...I'm trying to be "flexible" in my expectations. But for now, I went to the "cancer lady store" and bought a bathing suit that comes up so high on my chest it covers the weirdo-looking muscle, even though my surgery will probably be in a little over 2 months. It's Florida in the 90s and I don't want to have to never wear a bathing suit for even 2 months. When I was shopping for the suit, I found out from the sales lady that my insurance covers 4 bras a year!!! I didn't know that or I'd have been buying bras in 2016 and 2017. I didn't get one yesterday while swimsuit shopping, as my husband was with me and he had already been waiting patiently for 2 hours while I tried on many, many suits.
Writing here on this forum has been great for ME. Occasionally I have worried that I have wondered off-topic too much, too often, which is why I had wanted to stop writing about
the disease I shall not name. But Susie, you made a good point. If someone is reading this to see what it's like to deal with breast cancer, everything else doesn't stop in life just because you get cancer. Other problems can and will occur. So along with cancer, I am also dealing with this other disease, which may be happening to other women as well. Then I didn't want to write anymore about
my PTSD that I got while being treated (atrociously) for that other disease, because that seemed to be definitely off-topic. Then I realized that I am able to get counseling for my PTSD simply because I have cancer. I guess the cancer center has had enough people get PTSD from dealing with their cancer, so they offer free counselling for it. My PTSD is, of course, related to how hideously the hospital treated me for the other disease, but PTSD is PTSD and there could be women out there reading who did get PTSD from their cancer, so I have my "excuse" to babble on about
So after I read your post responding to my telling of the 12 days of horror I went through, you made it abundantly clear that mine was not a rare case, that patients are frequently neglected, insulted, misdiagnosed, etc. I had NEVER expected that. To me hospitals were places you go to get healed from injuries (or disease) and then back to your normal life. So even though I had PTSD and went through many dark minutes and sometimes hours when something would trigger it, your post about
how common hospital mistreatment is, DEVASTATED me. I instantly fell into my black whole and stayed there for 3 days. I remember closing up the laptop, and everything was black... as I walked straight into my son's room which was just a few feet away. I remember giving it a second of thought as to go into that room because it has blackout drapes and all I saw was black anyway and my surroundings had to match....I had to go into a place I was already in... blackness. I curled up on the bed (early afternoon) and stayed there for 3 days. I didn't leave at all the first day (I have a strong bladder), and on days 2 and 3 I just left to go to the bathroom which is just a couple feet away from the bedroom. My husband kept checking on me, offering water and food and encouraging me to leave the room, but I basically don't remember any of his words and I basically just mumbled No to whatever he said. From those 3 days I only remember the feelings I experienced-- fear, dread, depression, disgust, and that of being alone in blackness, abandoned and left to suffer. In other words, the same way I felt during my 12 days of horror.
I sound pathetic. That I couldn't help myself. That I couldn't accept my husband's offers of help. But I couldn't, I was paralyzed on that bed.
That 3 day anxiety attack was the longest, but the shorter ones continue still. A few days after I left the room I had a fun day planned with my best friend of 40 years. We drove to a downtown walkable area that features lots of arts shops, and jewelry and clothing stores, great restaurants, and scenery you can't beat. It's a place you go to planning on spending several hours. I got a great parking spot right in front of a park area that was set up with local artists displaying their work in the park. The artist directly in across from the sidewalk in front of my car had great work that stopped us in our tracks to admire. We also were having great and lively conversation with the artist, had a passerby take a picture of us with the artist (we talked to her so long we felt like friends).. so there was lots of laughing and great fun right from the start. I was holding onto my friends arm for support, as the ground was not level and I still lose my balance easily. Then my friend dropped to the ground. People gathered to help, but she was unconscious for several minutes. A couple men helped put her on a bench. Folks brought water in case she was dehydrated and food in case it was low blood sugar, but she could neither eat or drink. It took over an hour before she slowly became herself again... recognizing me, able to speak (slowly and slurry) and able to move her arms and legs. After a few attempt at standing, we got her up and into my car (which thankfully was right there!) and I drove her to an ER that was just a block or so away. Okay, here's where my PTSD kicked in again. She is my best friend so obviously I was not going to leave her side. They were able to get her into a private ER room right away, and as we walked to it we passed a room with a man in it that sent chills down me, and my heart racing..... He definitely looked like a "2 max". He was very old, and his body was contorted into an unnatural position and his mouth was
open wide as if he were screaming, but no noise was coming out. His contorted body did not move at all. The lasting image of him came with me into my friend's room. The ER took about
six hours of getting different tests done. The nurses there were great, but I was frozen in fear. I forced myself not to show any of the reactions I was going through inside, for my friend's sake. The only way I could deal was to have total tunnel vision, where I blurred out everything but her face. I sat fairly close to her bed, but it was still painful eyestrain to MAKE everything but her face into a blur. I left the room once to go to the cafeteria to get her some lunch, and so I had to pay attention to the directions..... go down this hall, through those doors, turn right....... and everything I saw was like i was being pushed into a dreadful space (head space)... The hospital colored walls, the types of very wide double doors , the marble floors, the posters on the walls... it was like I was being attacked. My heart races and my throat and chest get extremely tight. But the majority of the six hours was spent with just the tunnel vision of my friend's face and everything else was a blur, which gave me pretty severe eyestrain and a pounding headache. They finally decided to admit her, where she stayed for 2 days, had a million tests and no explanation for why she had collapsed into unconsciousness. It was difficult to drive home. The next day I continued to have tunnel vision for several hours, and i just felt.... BAD.... off..... like my world was tilted.... I know I'm not making sense, but I don't know how else to describe it. I have had tinnitus (ringing in the ears) for many years, but the whole next day or longer it was amplified tenfold.
Pt one.... pt 2, which will be much shorter, coming up soon.
Post Edited (exqualls) : 5/4/2018 10:30:59 AM (GMT-6)