It's Prophylactic Mastectomy Day

Today's the day. I'm actually feeling really calm. I'm not due in until 11am as the nurse called yesterday to let me know I could come an hour later as I was on the afternoon surgery list.

We head to the hospital, with my bag packed with everything on my mastectomy bag checklist and this time I head to a general surgery waiting room. I check in but I'm told my husband cant stay with me - the waiting room is for patients only. Why? I start to feel anxious even though I've been ok all morning.

Chris sits down with me while I sort my things out.

"Leanne Nash"

The nurse calls me through just to measure my calves ready for my sexy DVT tights. I'm handed the tights and sent back to the waiting area.

We take a few minutes and then say our goodbyes. It's so scary being left on your own. I hate it.

"Leanne"

Another nurse calls and we head off down a different corridor. First she goes through my details; name and date of birth first and then on with the ID bracelets -both wrists! Next, I'm asked what operation I'm having, I reply right prophylactic mastectomy but explain I still need to talk to my consultant about my nipple options. She used to work with my consultant and puts me at ease about all of the different routes I can take, she even shares anecdotes of her time with Mr M, my doctor. We laugh - a lot. Back to the tick boxes though...Allergies? Metal work? All my own teeth? The nurse is so lovely and we end up chatting and giggling for so long that another nurse knocks on the door to see whats taking so long. The phlebotomist and the anaesthetist have both been calling my name. She wraps it up and takes me to get my bloods done. I do wonder why they are needed again when I have already had blood taken during my pre-op a couple of weeks ago.

This time it's the anaesthetist .  She checks my ID bands and goes through the same questions as the nurse as well as asking if Ive ever had any reaction to anaesthetic before. I haven't but I get a flash back to the poor lady that I heard during my last operation. The anaesthetist tells me Im first on the list so should be going down to theatre at 1pm. Not too long to wait, thank goodness. As she wraps up I can here my consultant Mr M outside. As she leaves he comes in.

He greets me and tells me I'm his only surgical patient today so as soon as theatre opens again after lunch I'll be called. First, I have a few questions about my nipple. I lost my left nipple during my wide local incision. For the prophylactic surgery I was given a number of options for my nipple:

1. Lose the nipple
2. Keep the nipple on the right but no nipple on the left
3. Share the nipple - keep it during the mastectomy but at a later date split it in two and share it with the left side.

Mr M had said that I could just let him know on the day which option I would take.

In all honesty, I had been certain that I'd just lose the right nipple too however this week I had a big heart to heart about how I feel about bad boob and how I want to feel and look as 'normal' as I can. It's just the risk of keeping even a small bit of breast tissue that is playing on my mind. If they find anything untoward at all in the right breast then I'd rather lose the nipple but if its clear then I'd like to share it. I'm also worried that the nipple might die after the op due to lack of blood supply but Mr M explains that he's never had an unsuccessful share.

It's time to make the final decision. "I'd like to keep the nipple and then share it."

Mr M explains that this means he can likely go straight to implant and i'll avoid the bulky heavy expander that I have on the left. I take my top half of clothing off and he marks me up ready with a big black marker. The line goes around my nipple and off to the side across my breast. A different scar to last time.

He leaves  and I go back to the waiting room. I really wish I'd have had someone with me to ask more questions. I immediately panic that I've made the wrong decision and head out to the corridor. I'm in floods of tears. I feel like I'm now tempting fate for the sake of vanity. I hate this.I head back to the waiting room to wait. After 20 minutes....

"Leanne"

The friendly nurse calls me through. It's time for me to don my gown and my sexy DVT socks. She insists we take a photo to document my sexiness. We giggle a lot as I pose for the camera!

Before I know it I'm walking down to theatre. This time there is no pre theatre anaesthetic area so I head straight in to the theatre and lie on the operating table. The cannular goes in easily this time around and I'm given oxygen to breathe. I don't even make the countdown. I'm out.

Two hours later I come around in the recovery room. I'm sore and I groan as I regain consciousness. I ask for something to ease the pain and I'm injected in to the cannular. I fall back asleep.

When I wake up again, they call the porter. I'm ready to be taken to the ward. Last time there were no beds soI had been gifted an ensuite room in the private part of the hospital - no such luck this time.

There are two other ladies already on the general surgery ward and they stare as Im wheeled in. The pain has resumed and I hate the fact that I have company. The nurse comes in to check my obs and I ask her to pass me my phone so I can call home and message my Mum.

My husband says he's going to come straight in. I give a a list of things I want - Lucozade Orange, chocolate and grapes. He delivers!

At 7.30pm we say goodbye for the night. I know it's going to be a long one as I'm on 2 hour observation. I get woken through the night and have to keep asking for more painkillers. I'm given oramorph again so soon im vomiting despite the anti sickness tablets.

Despite hardly any sleep the light comes on to wake us just after at 6.30am - what the actual hell - it's Saturday for Gods sake! I close my eyes and go back to sleep.

A general surgeon visits at about 9.30am and asks how I am. He says i'll be able to go home around lunch time. My consultant isn't here because its the weekend. I ask if the op went welland for confirmation as to whether I now have an implant oran expander. The doc seems confused and has to thoroughly read through all of the notes to confirm I have an implant. I'll be sent home with codeine, paracetamol and a course of antibiotics. As soon as the pharmacy send them up I'll be able to go.

It feels strange this time around. I don't know if it's because it's now the weekend or because I've chosen to have this operation rather than it being a necessity but I feel Im just not being looked after the same. There's no physio to see how I'm doing, tell me what exercises to do. There's no support session like before. When the breast nurse arrives she tells be I wont be given a specialist bra like last time because they are just for cancer patients. It makes me feel a bit down and I just want to go home to the children.

Finally my husband arrives at the same time as my meds. I grab my pillow, he grabs the bags and we head home. I feel a sense of relief that I got what I wanted. It's over. I can start to move on.

Prophylactic Mastectomy - Should I keep My Nipple?

So last week I went back to see my surgeon. We're really happy with the scarring and the overall shape I have with the expander in and Mr M says I'm ready to have the exchange surgery to switch from the hard bulky expander to an implant. At this point I raise the fact that I still want to go ahead with the prophylactic surgery on the 'healthy breast'. 

I can tell my my consultants face that he's against this and re-iterates the fact that it's not necessary. I explain that from Day 1, back in December when I got my diagnosis, I have always asked for them to take both breasts. It just isn't worth the risk for me. I have 2 children, I live for them, I'm not risking it. No way. Mr M says I will need to see the psychologist agan to get final approval. I explain I have already spent sometime with him and I know he will approve it.

Because I'm opting for the second mastectomy, the exchange surgery will need to wait. I now have a number of options to consider for the mastectomy surgery:

1. Lose the nipple
- this would mean I have to go through exactly the same process as before. When you have your nipple removed you have to have an expander to enable the skin to stretch. If I go ahead with this then I'll have mastectomy with expander,weekly fills up to 450cc as on the left side and then once complete and rested the exchange to implants will happen together to allow a better match.

If I go ahead with this option then there are more options of what I can do to look like I have nipples again. 3D areola tattoos, prosthetic 'stick on' nipples and I can even have flesh taken from elsewhere to make a nipple shape in place of those that I have lost that can be tattooed over too to give a realistic colour.

An example of customised nipple prosthesis.
Image: www.feelingwholeagain.com

2. Keep the nipple on the right breast
- this would leave me with 'odd' boobs and looking pretty much like I do now. One breast with a nipple and one without. I already know that this isn't the option for me, I want uniformity. I want to match both sides regardless of whether I have nipples or not.

3. Share the nipple
- this is something that I had actually read upon myself and decided to ask about. So, if I went ahead, I would keep my right nipple. It would remain in place after the mastectomy but at a later date (probably after the exchange surgery and during another day case under anaesthetic) my nipple would be split it in two and made in to two nipples. Half will remain on my right breast and the other transplanted and 'shared' on to the left side.

Keeping the nipple does leave me with a slight risk as there will still be a small amount of breast tissue that remains but given that my right breast is healthy, I am torn. There is a lot to think about. I just need to consider all of the options and do what is right for me.

Mr M explains that once Ive been approved my the psychologist he will go ahead an complete the operation for me. With regards to my nipple, I can just let him know my decision on the morning of the operation. I'm likely to be on the waiting list for 6 months to a year. Thank god I'm getting what I want finally!

Sister Stories: Heather H Brown

July 28, 2016 my life as I knew it, turned upside down. I had gone in January 2016 for my annual mammogram. I had a baseline at the age of 35 and have gone annually since I was 40. My mother had some issues with her breast but hers always turned out to be benign. I had a great Aunt who died as a result of breast cancer but as far as I was aware, those were the only two issues in my family. So, the results came back in January and I was advised that I had calcification that showed up and had not been there the year before. The doctor did not seem too concerned but stated they would like to see me back in 6 months. I was not concerned either but did come home and do some research about calcification. In the end, I felt comfortable with the doctor’s suggestion.

Fast forward six months… we decided to sell our house, my oldest was graduating from High School in May, we had a graduation party on the books for June, and a cruise planned to celebrate my son’s graduation. Sometime in May 2016, I felt a lump doing a self-check. I had my husband feel the spot and he agreed he felt something. Not overly concerned because I knew I had another mammogram scheduled for July plus all that we had on our plate, I pushed it out of my mind. The house sold, we moved, lived in a hotel (Davidson Village Inn), moved into the new house, son graduated, had the party, and went on the cruise. Now it’s July 2016 and time for my mammogram. I had a normal mammogram, paid to do the 3D mammogram, but then they did not tell me to change back into my clothes, no, I set in a room and then was called to the ultrasound room. It was not until then did I ask the doctor, “So, what brings me to this point?” She said, “The calcification from January has turned into a mass and you have formed a new set of calcifications.” As I watched the screen, I knew the mass did not look good, it’s shape was off and the lump was grayish in color. The doctor asked for me to come back for a biopsy. I went for the biopsy on a Tuesday, my husband was out of town and my father was here with me. During the biopsy (not the most pleasant experience), I asked the doctor if someone should come with me for the results, she advised, “It probably would be good to have another set of ears with you.” I asked if she was concerned and she advised, “Yes, I don’t like how the mass looks.” I still was not concerned; my husband was not due back until the evening on Thursday but he insisted on coming back and going with me. Thursday comes around and the three of us (my husband, my father, and myself) head to the appointment. Out walks the doctor and another lady in a white lab coat, it was not until that moment that my heart began to beat really fast and my mind thought for the first time, “I am not going to hear good news.” Sure enough, my husband and I head back to the room and the doctor tells me I have invasive ductal carcinoma as well as ductal carcinoma in situ. What does that mean? Well, I have cancer and need to meet with a surgeon, oncologist, and plastic surgeon. Life started spinning out of control, everything was moving at a records pace. The surgeon advised I would need chemotherapy and a mastectomy. The oncologist wanted to start chemo 2 days after I meet with him. My husband knew I did not want to lose my hair, we had watched his mother go through breast cancer six years ago, so we kind of knew what was in store for us. He had a friend whose wife had been diagnosed with breast cancer and she keep her hair by using something called the penguin cap. My husband began to do research and found out that Wake Forest Baptist Hospital had just finished a study using the DigniCap. So, we set up an appointment at Wake Forest to meet with an oncologist there. I loved everything about the doctor at Wake Forest, she reminded me of my mother, whom passed away approximately 10 years ago. We were told we could use the DigniCap but that it was self-pay and not covered by insurance. My husband and I discussed the cost and both felt it would be worth it to give it a try, if I could keep my hair. I wanted things to remain as normal as possible and keeping my hair would be a big step in allowing that to occur.

So, Wake Forest Baptist Hospital was our choice for my chemotherapy treatments. My first chemo treatment began August 30, 2016, my husband and I arrived at the hospital bright and early. We checked in and I paid for the DigniCap (we did this at every treatment, as I could choose to not continue with using the DigniCap if I did not like the results). I signed disclosures and then was taken back to a private room to be fitted for the cap. It’s an experience, you have to wet your hair, in the small sink in the room, then sit on the bed with your hair dripping wet until they figure out the right size cap. There were many tries, the cap coming off and on several times, one particular nurse was about to cry because she felt the cap was “not perfectly fitting on my head as it should,” I told her “absolutely no crying.” That process took about an hour or longer, then we had to wait for the machine to cool to it’s proper temperature, negative 3 degree Celsius. Once the machine reached the desired temperature, they could begin the pre-meds and then the chemo. I had four chemo drugs that I was receiving, which took about four hours, then I had to cool down for two hours, still wearing the cap. Needless to say, the day was very long.

In between chemo treatments, I would go to the Oncology unit here in Huntersville NC, to receive fluids and have blood work. My chemo schedule was every three week and every week getting blood drawn. There were times my blood work was very low and potentially I needed a blood transfusion, I did not want one, so i asked all my friends and family to pray as well as myself that this would not be needed. Every time, God came through with my prayer request. I also have to have my heart checked every three months due to one of the medications I receive could damage my heart. I have had two of those and so far, my heart is just as strong now as when we started. My six rounds of chemo stopped on December 13, 2016. Overall, the process was manageable, it definitely got worse as the treatment accumulated but I could manage it with medication. I am happy to say that the DigniCap allowed me to keep 90% of my hair. I cannot tell you how much this affected my mind set, attitude, and overall well-being. I looked the same, acted the same, maybe a few pounds lighter but overall, I was me.

During my treatment, my half-sister, whom I knew of but did not seek out as my mother felt since she had to give her up for adoption, it would not be right to up root her family if she did not know she was adopted, found me on September 16, 2016. Talk about God’s timing, it could not have happened at a better time. Our biological mother had died 10 years ago, so she did not get to enjoy getting to know her first born.

Following treatment, the next step was surgery- scheduled January 13, 2017. Bilateral mastectomy plus the start of the reconstructive process and removal of ovaries and fallopian tubes (all other parts had been removed six years earlier). I needed three doctors to complete my surgery. The surgery would take approximately six hours. I stayed one night in the hospital and came home the next day. I will be going through the expansion process for a couple of weeks and then I will have to wait eight weeks before I can do the exchange surgery. During all this, I still go and receive my Herceptin infusions every three weeks until the end of August.

After my surgery, the pathology came back that there is “no evidence of disease, NED.” Praise the Lord! Throughout this journey, I looked to my faith for comfort of the unknown, I knew he had chosen me for this diagnosis and I knew the outcome was in his hands.

Closing, this journey would not have been possible without the loving support of my husband, Charlie Brown, my boy’s Conlan and Keegan, my father, Bill Howard, my newly found sister Seanette Meserole, and my Flock (Jo Ann Darby, Cindi VanWingerden, Stephanie Edwards, Nila Grier, Shelley Hartsell, Rena Taylor, and Jen Hellar), as well as Stephanie Bradley and Jenny Bodenheimer, plus a whole slew of family members and friends. As they say, “it takes a village” and it sure does.

My official diagnosis was:

Right breast
- High grade invasive mammary carcinoma
- Nuclear grade 3 of 3
- Mitotic rate: High
- Combined histologic grade High (9 of 9)
- Minor component of high-grade DCIS with lobular extension also present
- HER2+ amplified

Also had high grade DCIS with terminal duct lobular extension
Nuclear grade 3 of 3


Following my NED status I have since formed a nonprofit 501 3 (c) called Hope for Hair Foundation. Our mission is to provide support to cancer patients at risk for hair loss as a result of chemotherapy in two ways: Financial aid for DigniCap (or other cooling cap methods) and by educating and providing products that will help ensure successful hair retention.


For more information check out our website at www.hopeforhair.org.

Sister Stories: Melody Byl

My name is Melody Byl. I was 42 years old when I was diagnosed.  I am also mom of 4 kids; 23, 22, 15 and 15. I've been married for 18 years and I'm excited to have a grand baby on her way in June. 

It all started when I went to my yearly mammogram on September 21 2017 but first I want to rewind just a bit to tell you about my mother in law. She was diagnosed with DCIS May 2010. They found hers with her annual mammogram, she had a double mastectomy in July 2010 with expanders. 

October of 2014 it returned but this time we found out that it was in mets to her bones. She had a broken spine and ribs but the doctors could not find the source of her pain until one final fateful trip to the ER and an X ray showed the fracture. A pet scan revealed our worst fears - her cancer had returned, this time to her bones. Sadly she was stage 4 and it was terminal. She lived 2 years to almost the day of her diagnosis. She passed 10/4/2016.

I had gotten my mammograms since I was 38 years old . When I reached 42 , I realized I had forgotten the past 2 years to get one.  Something kept moving me to get one. The pamphlet from my dr's office told me I could get one after work and there is no waiting. In and out.  Perfect, I thought.

I went in on October 21, 2017 for a 3D mammogram. My insurance paid for it. Why not!! October 2 I get the call that something abnormal had shown up on my mammogram. I was asked to go in to get another scan of my right breast. I went in a few days later but as I was getting dressed the radiologist, the technician, and a nurse navigator appeared and told me that I needed a stereotactic mammogram guided biopsy. I was taken into another room. I was by myself with no other family with me. The nurse was talking to me and I was just in shock. I needed my husband and I needed him now!!! I called him, he was at work just down the street.  He rushed over to be by my side as the nurse explained the procedure to us. Unfortunately, they had no one available to do this type of biopsy for 3 weeks. 3 weeks?? That was insane!!! 

3 weeks came and I went in. My husband waited in the waiting room. During the procedure the radiologist cut into my breast & a large needled was inserted to get enough calcium cells to be able to biopsy. The problem was, I bleed a lot. I sprayed the entire room with blood. They were supposed to get 5 samples but because there was so much blood they could only do one. The radiologist told me that he really thought it was not cancer and that the previous radiologist had overreacted so not to worry. Go home, relax & your PCP will call you by Tuesday (October 31, 2017).

October 31, 2017 came.I had completely forgot that I was supposed to get my pathology report. My phone rang, it was the voice of my PCP.

"Is this Melody?"
"This is she, yes."
"This is Dr Varley, I have your pathology results back & it doesn't look good."

He then went on to say... bla bla bla bla pathology, bla bla bla bla, DCIS. Nothing felt real, I was in a sort of trance. What brought me back was when I heard my doctor say that a nurse navigator was going to call me to set up my appointments.

What appointments? My PCP said a surgeon and an Oncologist. It wasn't processing. 

"Wait," I said "Why do I need these appointments?"
"Because of your breast cancer."

I swear on my life I thought he was reading someone else test results not mine. 

My appointments were made. It was now October 31 and the local surgeon said he could see me in 2 days. He told me I needed a breast MRI because I had tons of calcifications in both breasts.  I was given an appointment right after Thanksgiving. I went and had the MRI and the next day saw the Oncologists in my small local town. He said my MRI looked bad and I needed to be referred to the breast center and their team at University of WI, Madison.

My 1st appointment was December 10. I saw the breast surgeon and the oncologist and I also had several more biopsies which confirmed I did not have breast cancer in my left breast, only in my right breast. They weren't sure how extensive the DCIS was. They were not very definitive, therefore I decided to have a double mastectomy with reconstruction which is also called DIEP Flap.

It is a 12 hour surgery and they scoop out the tissue in my breasts and use the fat and tissue in my tummy. I got a tummy tuck and new boobs. Win Win. 

I did not need chemo or radiation.

It was hard after the surgery. I was in theatre for such a long time so I was told the recovery would be very long too. I was in the hospital for 7 days. Typically patients don't leave their home for about 3 weeks. I am not typical and left the house with my mom about 3 days after surgery. Lol.  It took about 2 months for me to get to feeling like myself.  I am a Real Estate Agent and I started showing homes again about a month after my surgery which blew my doctors mind.

During surgery one lymph node was taken from my left and 2 lymph nodes from my right. On February 28 I was told I had no cancer in my lymph nodes. I had 8 cites of DCIS (Ductal Carcinoma In Situ).  This put me at a stage 1A. 

My breast cancer was Estrogen positive so I have to take a hormone blocker, Tamoxifen, for 5 years. I also plan on getting a hysterectomy July 9, 2018. 

I did not need chemo or radiation.

I want breast cancer patients to know and understand that there is a beautiful rainbow after the storm. It's important to remember to be positive and always surround yourself with a positive people but also remember it's ok to cry! I cried a lot on my husbands shoulder. 

This has been the hardest and scariest thing I have been through personally in my life. I felt like I was in an ocean with many life preservers thrown at me with names such as lumpectomy, mastectomy, radiation, reconstruction. I had to choose the right one to save my life and prevent recurrences.  I chose Diep Flap because I was able to get a tummy tuck and a boob job. Lol. My new breasts match my big butt which I am trying to loose with diet & exercise. 

I owe my life to my mother-in-law who's spirit guardian angel told me to get a mammogram & my Savior Jesus Christ. He got me through this storm. 

Drain Dollies -THE Mastectomy Must Have

Prior to my mastectomy operation I did a huge amount of research, in particular I was keen to understand exactly what happens after the op. I knew that I would definitely be having at least one drain inserted but I wasn't sure how I'd manage with something so strange attached to mt for over a week.

I'd seen so many women posting in forums about their drain struggles, having to pin them to their bras and their clothes and it seemed like so much hassle.

Luckily enough for me, I came across the Drain Dollies website.

Drain Dollies was set up by a lovely lady called Charley who went through a preventative double mastectomy back in July 2015 after she tested positive for the BRCA1 gene. It was when she was searching for something to assist with her drains that Drain Dollies was born and her first drain bags were made.

Fast forward a few years and Charley has now set up her own online store selling drain bags in lots of gorgeous quality fabrics and fantastic prints.

Just before my surgery I reached out to Charley and she sent me a gorgeous grey Drain Dollies bag to review post op. It was my saviour. I honestly couldn't have gotten through my post surgery journey without this amazing little polka dot Drain Dollies bag and that's why it was included as a must have on my Things To Pack In Your Mastectomy Hospital Bag post.

So how does it work, well I think the worst thing about having a drain in is that it could potentially restrict you. Just because I had drains,I didn't want to have to hide myself away from the world!

In hospital a few hours after my op

I started wearing mine as soon as I came around after the operation. Once I'd been assigned my bed the first thing I did was get changed out of the hospital gown and in to my PJs and popped on my Drain Dollies bag.

I just had a single mastectomy so I wore mine like a cross-body bag but if I'd had a double mastectomy I would have just worn a bag on each shoulder.

The great thing about Drain Dollies is that you can adjust the strap length. It's virtually impossible to lift your arms after your operation so these are perfect.

When I headed to the support group at the hospital the next morning all of the ladies were so jealous of my gorgeous bag.

Wearing the drain bag meant I didn't have to consciously think about my drain all the time. I could just get up and move around without getting caught on anything.

The best thing for me was that my drain was completely hidden away so I wasn't going to scare the children with it because I had it safely tucked away - no one wants a big bag of bloody fluid on display! It's great that you can just trow them in the washing machine too, I was really conscious of keeping everything clean so I knew I could pop this in the washing machine at any time.

I had my drain in for over a week and I honestly don't know how I would have coped with the Drain Dollies bag. Thank you Charley for making my post op experience a hell of a lot easier.

There are so many different fabrics to choose from, headover to the Drain Dollies shop now to pick your own.

If you're about to embark on a mastectomy then I wish you all the luck in the world.

Take care x


Disclosure: I received a free Darin Dollies bag to allow me to post this review.

Sister Stories: Kim Hamilton Mennillo

Greetings, fellow breast cancer warriors! My name is Kim, I live in North Carolina, married with two marvelous children and four fantastic grandkids! The biggest blessing of all that came from having cancer is that I completely changed careers and went into the healing profession of massage therapy. Cancer has been a gift is so many ways!

My life with cancer begins . . . well, it begins in 1959 when my grandma was sitting in the back seat with me on a car trip, patted my thigh and said to my mom, "Mother, there's something wrong with this child's leg." I was four. The tumor was benign, but its removal was not the end.

At age 17, a senior in high school, I discovered a lump in my right breast, as well as another one in my left thigh in the same spot. There were actually two lumps in my thigh all wrapped up in muscle. All benign again, but the doc advised me to eliminate caffeine from my diet as the diagnosis for the breast lump was fibrocystic disease. He was also way ahead of his time, sternly urging me to never wear underwire bras so lymph fluid around the breasts would flow the way it should to keep them healthier.

Time passed, I married in 1977, and had my first baby in 1979. On a trip home to Ohio to see family, I caught the flu bug from my grandfather. Sick as a dog when my son was only four months old, stressed from being a new mother and facing a major move, my immune system attacked again and when my son was six months old, I was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism and Graves disease. No amount of medication brought it back to normal, and after another major move in 1981, I was given the option of having my thyroid removed surgically or swallowing radioactive iodine. I opted for the later and became hypothyroidone month later. I was also told to wait a year before being allowed to conceive the second child we wanted.

Our daughter was born in 1983 shortly after we moved into our new home. One day, a year later, as I stepped down on my left foot while carrying a load of laundry upstairs, I felt a familiar "pop" in my thigh. "Oh, not again!" I sighed heavily. More surgery, larger tumor, this time not so good a diagnosis—malignant neural sarcoma. The tumor was sitting on a nerve and it was the size of a goose egg! Quite concerned about my tumor-prone history, the surgeon recommended removal of part of the vastus medialis (inner thigh) muscle so these tumors would not keep recurring. He noted how each time the tumors came back, they were in areas north of the previous surgeries. If that continued, he was afraid the cancer would eventually return farther up my thigh and into the lymph nodes of my groin, which then would be much more serious and difficult to fight.

Believe it or not, all of my past tumors had clean margins and the cancer in my thigh had not spread, either. Regardless, he felt preventive surgery was necessary, so two months after the removal of that very large lump, a divot-sized section of muscle and skin was removed from my thigh. A divot! Leave it to a doctor to describe one’s surgery in golf terminology!

I rehabbed quickly, needed no chemo or other adjuvant treatment and prayed my cancer journey was over. I did have one slight scare. A couple of years after the preventive surgery, an x-ray picked up a spot on my femur. The doctor was concerned and ordered another test after a period of time to see if it changed in any way. I came home, told the kids we were going to do some Shakespeare and they would be allowed to swear! I asked them to get very close to my leg and shout, "Out, out, damned spot!" They loved it. And yelled it. Over and over (after all, I never said how many times they could swear!) We all giggled, but I couldn't stop their fun. It empowered them to take part in Mama's healing process. Don't you know that spot was not there at all when the next x-ray was performed! My little miracle workers!

So, no more cancer, right? Bwah ha ha ha ha ha! But, hey, not in my leg, anyway. Five years passed and while doing my routine monthly exam, I thought I felt a lump in my right breast. Saw my OB-GYN who said, "No, but you do have one in your left breast." Ordered a mammogram which showed nothing, then sent me to his wife's surgeon. He didn't think it was anything, said I was too young for breast cancer (I was 32) and advised we "just watch it." (Ladies, NEVER let your doctor say that. Please insist on a biopsy.) I went home happy, thinking I was free and clear.

Six months later at the city pool, I turned over onto my stomach while tanning and jerked right back up again. THAT HURT! My hand went immediately to my chest, in pain from lying on hard concrete. At home, with my thumb and fingers around my areola, I could move the lump all around in any direction. That sucker was directly behind my nipple. I had my mom check to see if she could feel what I was feeling. She did, and she cried, hugged me hard and begged me to go back to the doctor. Her mom (my grandma who discovered the lump in my thigh) passed away in 1975 from metastatic inflammatory breast cancer because she, too, was told it was "nothing."

Naturally, I went back to the surgeon who, upon examination, said, "This needs to come out." I didn't say anything, but I was thinking, "No shit, Sherlock!” He ordered another mammogram which again showed no tumor, and scheduled the surgery. I had since turned 33 and my first devastating realization was, "I'm the age Jesus was when he died on the cross!" And yes, this time the tumor in my breast was malignant (ductal in situ). The surgeon was standing over me, crying, as I awakened in recovery. He apologized profusely and said, "I really didn’t think you had cancer, but you do." To which I looked up at him and groggily replied, "I know." Somehow I knew something wasn't right. For a long time I had just felt soooo extremely tired, which I came to find out later is one of the most common symptoms of cancer.

At that point, the doctor gave me two options: 1) go home and discuss your options/treatment/etc., or 2) have a mastectomy the next morning. When he told me the removal of the tumor pretty much destroyed what was left of my very small size A cup breast, I said, "Take it off. Nothing to think about." I knew my family would just want me to live. I was done with childbearing and nursing, and having a breast or not made no difference at all to my husband.

During the first appointment with my oncologist, I begged him not to give me chemo. I remembered the horrible experience my grandmother had with it and didn’t relish the same for myself. Fortunately, he agreed and said a five-year course of Tamoxifen should do the trick. (I was actually in the first study group of PREmenopausal women to take this drug. The results were so positive for postmenopausal patients, the medical community was eager to try it with younger women.) I was so excited about NOT taking chemo, I called my mom to give her the good news. She said, "Honey, Grandma didn't have chemo, she had Cobalt treatments." I replied, "Oh! Well, ignorance is bliss, huh? The doc said I don’t need chemo anyway."

My breast cancer tumor margins were clean, there was no lymph node involvement and I pretty much sailed through Tamoxifen. For four and a half years of the five, anyway. I started having every side effect, including the rare ones (the most bothersome being vaginal discharge every damned day—truly, it’s a wonder I didn’t have toxic shock syndrome!), and asked the doc on March 17, 1992, if I could please stop taking it. He replied, "Yes, you're doing very well. I believe I can safely say you're cancer free!” I smiled and said, "It's St. Patrick's Day...what a lucky day to stop taking a drug!"

Shortly after my first mastectomy in 1988, I started to attend breast cancer support groups. Alas, the only groups around were filled with women in their 60s, 70s and 80s. I had little in common with these women other than the fact of breast cancer. I was young, my children were still home, I was still in the workforce. Fortunately, I found three other younger women who felt the same way, and the four of us co-founded a support group for pre-menopausal breast cancer survivors. It was such a wonderful thing to have this kind of sisterhood, camaraderie among women the same age, with similar concerns and questions. We laughed and cried together, grieved when someone in the group died and worked with the medical community to reach out to as many young breast cancer patients as possible. The only problem after our first meeting is that we didn't know what to name the group. And this is where humor during recovery comes in. I told my husband we had an amazing group of women but we didn't know what to call ourselves. He looked at me and deadpanned, "How about 'The Young and the Breastless?'" I was mortified and declared, "We can't name ourselves that! How is that going to look on a brochure?" Well, much to my surprise, the group loved it! And I learned a valuable lesson. NEVER take yourself or your illness or your treatment too seriously. Lighten up. Have a good sense of humor and share that with others. Laughter and humor will get you through cancer better than almost anything else. By the way, our literature read The Y & B Group and we told everyone in the medical community that stood for The Young & the Beautiful, but those of us in the group knew what it really meant!

A year after my mastectomy, I had my right breast removed prophylactically. Every month when I did my self exams I drove myself crazy with worry. Am I feeling something there? Or is that just scar tissue? WHAT is this? I decided enough was enough, underwent a second mastectomy and had saline implants (Becker tissue expanders) put in on both sides. Five years, ten, fifteen, twenty...with each passing year breast cancer was less and less on my mind. Except for in my career as a massage therapist where it took on a whole new meaning.

During my 1988/89 recoveries, I was re-evaluating my life, trying to decide what I really wanted to do or be. In the fall of 1990, I enrolled in massage school after the relief I got during a very painful period of my reconstruction. The release of the tension between my shoulder blades felt so good, I knew early in my education I wanted to take this career in the direction of helping others who had breast surgery. I have been blessed to offer my specialty in breast surgery massage to many clients, as well as teach this modality to other therapists. This year is my 26th anniversary of being a licensed massage therapist and it has been very rewarding and humbling. I truly feel it has been my way of giving back to the cancer community.

Aaaaand then just when you think everything is going so well, a new wrinkle messes up your freshly pressed life. It was the morning of Pi Day, March 14, 2015. My hubby and I were all set to get up, get dressed, go out and get a pie to share. Not so fast there, Skippy! Stretching to get the kinks out before I got out of bed, my hands ran down over my shoulders to get the circulation going, when, UH OH! "Honey!” I called out to my hubby. “I've got a flat tire!" The right saline implant had completely deflated after a well-behaved, 26-year run. How dare it give up on me! My "girls" were nicely rounded, high and perky on my chest and I hadn't worn a bra in 26 years! Now I'm going to have to wear one to hide this defect until I can get it repaired? NOT FUN!

Quickly, I called a friend who used to do bra fittings for mastectomy patients to ask if she had any fiberfill inserts I could borrow. Also had to find bra in that long forgotten section of my lingerie drawer. I was surprised it hadn't deteriorated after so many years of non use! Asked her, too, for plastic surgeon recommendations here in Charlotte. I knew no one as all my surgeries had been done in Ohio. After doing a bit of research, I realized the deflated implant would have to be removed, preferably within two weeks to avoid any possible infection. God love my friend, she helped me with all my requests and kept checking with me to see if I needed anything else!

The Becker tissue expander is no longer being used, and my new plastic surgeon recommended the "gummy bear" implants. He had a difficult time on the right side with scar tissue and the surgery took longer than expected. For whatever reason, these new implants never felt right. The year after they were installed, I needed a capsulorraphy to keep them from falling to the sides when I lay down. The one on the right still sat lower, so I asked for an inframammary fold lift. The doc agreed, but said he might have to use mesh to hold it in place. Then the bombshell! The implant on the left had developed capsular contracture, so it would have to be removed and a new implant put in. I was NOT expecting that! My body was rejecting them. However, not knowing what else to do, I was all set to have that surgery in early January of 2017 until I was giving a massage to a client who had the DIEP flap procedure. I was so impressed by the way she looks, and after speaking with a couple more DIEP flap patients, I scheduled that surgery for early March. Since implants have to be replaced every 10-15 years, and I would be 70-75 years old had I decided to go that route, I am so glad I had an operation using my own body's tissue. One and done! And no more foreign objects. Hallelujah!

Phase 2 of the DIEP flap surgery was done in November of 2018. The only existing challenge at this point is a bit of lymphedema above the abdominal incision. I am currently seeing an occupational therapist for relief from this swelling. She is using manual lymphatic drainage techniques and kinesiotape to redirect the lymph flow, and cold infrared therapy to break up underlying scar tissue. At home I’m applying scar reducing tape along the abdominal incision and breast scars.

My story will continue, I'm sure. The BRCA 1&2 tests I finally had done show no hereditary connection, so my daughter and granddaughters can breathe a little easier. I realize I am extremely lucky that I have not had to endure the horrible side effects of chemo and radiation of most of my fellow cancer warriors. My experiences, nevertheless, have been challenging in their own ways. Truly, I fret more over my thyroid condition and its continuing impact on me than I ever have with breast cancer concerns. Eternally grateful for the path God has, in his infinite wisdom, deigned me to take, I fully expect to enjoy a long and healthy life, serving others through support, massage and any way I can be of service on their journey to health and wellness.

NOTE: I purposely did not cite any or all possible risk factors I might have had for getting breast cancer. Suffice it to say, there were many, including hereditary, environmental, and occupational ones. I was born and raised in a very polluted area of southeast Ohio, but I do not and cannot place blame there. Yes, there was cancer in my family, but genetic testing was not done when those relatives were alive. It is pointless to lay blame anywhere. All I can do and continue to do, is take charge of my health and do everything I can to stay healthy. I hold only myself accountable and my faith in God is firm and unshakeable. I’ll be 63 this July and count every birthday as a precious gift. Never will I be one of those women who doesn’t reveal her true age. I’m eternally grateful for every one that rolls around! And if you count my age in years as a breast cancer survivor, I’m really only 30 years old!

To everyone, I wish you good health, a sparkle in your eyes, a smile on your lips and joy in your hearts as we walk this journey together. And be sure to keep your sense of humor! May God bless us all!

Kim Hamilton Mennillo
Cornelius, NC

What happens during a breast expander fill?

So today was my final breast expander fill following my mastectomy. A few people have asked exactly what happens during the short appointment so I thought I'd share the procedure with you.

Breast Expander Implant

Firstly, left is image of what my expander implant looks like, this should help you understand how the procedure works.
The outer part of the expandable implant is made of of silicone gel and inside is an inflatable, inner chamber. The inner chamber is where the saline collects as you have your fills. The darker part of the expander that you can see on the image is the valve or port. The saline is injected through this valve and in to the inner chamber, stretching the muscle that is holding the expander in place. Once full, the full expander stays in for around 3 to 6 months before its replaced with a full silicone implant.

The fill procedure may be done by your surgeon or the breast nursing team. Usually the first fill is done in theatre when you have the implant inserted the you return every week for a top up. My expander takes a maximum of 400cc of saline. 250cc was added during my surgery and this will be my third 50cc injection at the clinic.

So here we go, here's what happens during a breast expander fill appointment...

Once in the consultation room I head behind the curtain and remove my clothing - just everything on my top half - no full nudity required! Your nurse will give you a gown to cover up and once you have it on you can lie down on the bed.

Get comfy and relaxed, you don't want to have to move midway through the process.

Once your comfortable the nurse will use a special device called a 'Magna-Finder' to locate the valve in your expander.

Locating the breast expander port

The nurse will move the Magna-Finder across the breast and as she does the vertical magnet will be pulled towards the magnet in your expander. When it is completely vertically straight, its in the correct place. The nurse or surgeon will then mark up the injection site - usually using a biro!

A larger needle is used to draw the saline

Next the nurses will prepare the syringe. Everything is sterile and is laid out on a trolley. To fill the syringe with the saline, the nurses use a large needle. Do not worry about the thickness of this needle! This is just the needle that is placed in to the saline solution and then as the nurse pulls up the syringe plunger the saline is drawn in to the syringe.

The needle they use to fill the syringe is much wider than the needle that goes in to your body during the procedure. In fact the nurse told me the needle they use is just the same width as a needle they use to give immunisation jabs.

Once the syringe is filled with the correct measure (this final fill was 50cc for me) the nurse will switch the to the finer needle and you're ready to go.

Lining the needle up to the pre-marked area, the nurse injects the saline directly in to the implant. The fill takes less than two minutes and for those or you that aren't queasy, you can watch the clip I recorded of my final fill below.

What To Pack In Your Mastectomy Hospital Bag

Now that my surgery is over thought it might help for me to share the things that I needed during my stay in hospital.

Try to remember that after your operation your arm movement will be really restricted and you'll have drains in place. Here are my top takes:

For the Hospital

Slippers - make sure these are non slip. The last thing you need is a fall when you've just come round from anaesthetic.

Dressing Gown - in the UK you are usually asked to wear your dressing gown to walk to theatre before your operation.

Underwear - an obvious one I guess but if you are having DIEP flap surgery then big Bridget Jones knickers that go over your tummy scar are best.

Front Fastening Post Surgery Bra - It is virtually impossible to wear a backwards fastening bra after surgery because of your restricted arm movement. In the UK your breast cancer nurse will provide you with one front fastening bra the day after your surgery. I've found this the most comfortable post surgery bra I have and I sleep in it every night at the moment as it supports the weight of my expander.

Button Up Pyjamas - as soon as I woke up in my hospital gown I wanted to get changed. There was blood on my surgical gown and I needed it off. I waited for help, but again, ensure its front fastening and button up so you can get in and out of them yourself. I bought a pair a size up as I knew that I would be swollen and carrying my drain around. Elasticated waist is a must too so that you can pull your pants up and down easier.

Drain Pouch Bag - Literally THE best thing I had in my bag. I've heard so many stories of women having to pin their drain bags to their tops, their bras etc but I researched and got myself a Drain Dollies bag. I just had a single mastectomy so I only needed one but if your having a bilateral mastectomy then get two - one for each side.

Mastectomy Pillow - When I came round after my op I was quite uncomfortable under my arm - possible due to having the sentinel node biopsy. Luckily I had ordered a FREE mastectomy pillow from Jen's Friends. Again I only needed one but if your having a double mastectomy then get two.

Snacks - If you've read my Mastectomy Day Diary then you'll know that I had to wait for ages to be fed after my operation. Pack some healthy snacks in your bag so if you're feeling peckish outside of hospital meal times you don't have to wait on someone else. Make sure they're individually wrapped if you can - for hygiene.

Straws - lifting a cup to your mouth is hard so straws are a must. The hospital will probably have some but I packed some in case.

Medication - always take any regular medications with you and hand them to your medical team so they can ensure you are taking everything you need to whilst you are in their care.

Toiletries - again seems like an obvious one but the things you are most likely to forget! Toothbrush, toothpaste and wash things. I took face wipes so I could freshen up through the day.

Make Up - Some of you might thing this is daft but I wanted to feel more like myself for visitors and for the journey home.

Mobile Phone & Charger - I took my own portable charger in case there were no sockets available. I hate being out of contact with my family so my phone was a must.

For Heading Home

Front Fastening shirt - again this is for ease - to assist with your drains and with your arm movement. It's impossible to pop anything over your head because you cant lift your arms. Again I bought oversized because of swelling,

Elastic-Waisted Pants or Leggings - do not make the mistake of taking button up jeans. It's impossible to do up the buttons and pull up the zip! Elastic pants are easy to get into and out of and wont have you splitting your stitches.

Slip-on Shoes - avoid laces and anything that needs effort to pull on. Bending is hard and sore so the easier to put on the shoe, the better.

Pillow - I took a normal bed pillow to put over my front and fastened the seat belt over that to protect myself. I could feel every single bump in the road as we drove back.

When You're Home

Pillows, pillows, pillows - I had to sleep upright for two weeks post surgery and for some people its longer. It can be really difficult to get comfy. Thankfully my painkillers knocked me out most nights. What pillows are best is really down to you. Some people prefer v-shaped pillows to prop them up. I personally used two really firm memory foam pillows vertically behind my regular two duck feather bed pillows.

Prepared Meals in the Freezer - you must remember to eat to stay strong. Having some meals already stocked up is a winner as you won't be able to lift and cook as usual.

Medication - I kept all my meds close to me in a toiletry bag next to my bed. It's worth remembering that you are unlikely to be able to open anything with a child proof cap so try and transfer anything in to an easy access container.

Mastectomy Results Day

I wake up apprehensive and still tired. Our appointment isn't until 3.10pm which just prolongs the agony. We arrange for Grandma and Grandpa to pick the children up from school and head off. It's a strange journey. My husband and I hardly speak, we just listen to The Greatest Showman CD for most of the journey. When 'This Is Me' come on the lyrics hit me.

I've learned to be ashamed of all my scars
Run away, they say
No one'll love you as you are...

These past few months have been so tough. I've piled on weight which hasn't helped but more importantly I've lost myself. I feel different, less confident and despite my positive and bubble personality, I hate what I see when I look in the mirror.

Soon enough we arrive in the car park, we hold hands as we walk in to the hospital. I give my name in at the desk and head to the usual waiting room. My heart begins it's usual pounding. I hate the waiting, its agonising. For me not knowing is worse than knowing. I hate the unknown.

Despite our usual hour in the waiting room, today we are called out of the packed waiting area after about 10 minutes - this never happens.

"Leanne Nash"

I real of my date of birth and head in to see Mr M. Today as well as my consultant and two nurses there is another man in there, he's introduced as the Lead Registrar. I'm asked firstly to head behind the curtain and take my top clothes off.

Mr M says everything is looking good. They had added 250cc into the expander during surgery. Today he would add 50cc more. The needle is huge, so much so that Mr M makes a joke about it being like the needle from Pulp Fiction.

Looking at that image though, Id say my syringe was definitely bigger. Don't panic though ladies - the needle itself is no bigger than the needles they use to take blood.

It's a strange sensation as the saline goes in. The expander moves around inside as it's filled, it's uncomfortable but it's nothing compared to what I've been through so far. My heart is still pounding, wondering the outcome of the results so the syringe moves up and down as my chest moves.

Once complete I get dressed and head back out beyond the curtain. It's time.

"Ok, we've got the histology results back. There was more DCIS in your breast - another 10cm - so in fact it was basically right through your entire breast...

...BUT... (I cling on to this 'but' for what feels like an age, awaiting my fate)

...we have managed to get it all. We've discussed your case in the MDT meeting this morning and because no invasive cancer was found and the lymphnodes we took were clear, you will not need and radiotherapy or chemotherapy."

THANK GOD. SCREAM IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS. DING DONG THE CANCERS GONE.

He continues to tell me I definitely made the right decision having the mastectomy. There was always a chance that there would be no further disease at all and that my breast could have been saved but in my case my whole left boob had been riddled.

The only remaining treatment -  should I decide to take it is a tablet called Tamoxifen. Mr M tells be approximately 13 times that one of the main side effects is vaginal dryness. No word of a lie - they are pretty much the only words I remember from that discussion. And, whilst vaginal dryness is certainly no laughing matter, I did struggle to contain my giggles.

Rather than deciding what to do straight away, I'm given a leaflet to take away and decide over the week what to do.

For now though, with my aching filled up boob, we head home with the best news we've had in 6 months.

Mastectomy Day Diary

Midnight
I stayed up late to have a bowl of my favorite Weetabix Minis Chocolate Crunch. Now matter how hard I try and so nervous about the operation that I can not sleep. I listen to my Calm app but it doesn't work. Chris lies next to me tossing and turning too. I just remember that I don't need to worry - I'll be put to sleep tomorrow anyway so tiredness isn't an issue!

2.00am
Still cant get to sleep. Tomorrow is so huge. What if it all goes wrong? What if I don't wake up?

6.00am
I wake up to my alarm. I feel like I've only just got to sleep. My eyes are heavy. I get dressed and re-check my hospital bag. I think I have everything. I can sense Chris is nervous too.

7.00am 
After de-icing the car we set off. We're even nervous talking to each other on the journey. We make small talk. It's so odd.

7.30am
We arrive at the hospital at and suddenly I feel strangely calm considering what I'm about to go through. There are 3 other ladies in the waiting area also having breast surgery and lymph node biopsies today. Chris and I sit in the waiting area, the Winter Olympics is on the TV.

8.45am
"Leanne Nash" I'm called in to the anesthetist first. She puts name bands on both of my wrists and  runs through the usual questions. I confirm the operation I'm having, we discuss past surgeries and my DVT history. All good, I return to the waiting room.

9.15am
"Leanne Nash" Mr M, my surgeon calls me through. He apologises that he may smell of garlic because he was celebrating Chinese New Year yesterday. I take my top off and he marks me up with his marker pen. The comical arrow pointed to the riddled boob. He asks if I have any questions and we talk about lymphnodes. He says he will try and take the sentinel nodes from the main incision so hopefully I'll just have the one scar.

9.30am
"Leanne Nash"
The nurse calls me in to go through everything again. Check the op im having etc. She measures my legs for the DVT stockings. I'm second in to theatre so it will be later on this morning that I'm called. She passes me my tights and down but says I don't need to change just yet so i keep hold of them.

10.30am
"Right ladies. Those you that are having the dye injections for sentinel node biopsy, would you like to follow me?"
I panic because I'm not changed in to my gown. The nurse tells me not to worry but to take everything with me in case I need to go straight to theatre from the radiology department. There are 4 ladies, each with their husbands in tow. We are told to follow two young boys aged about 16 or 17 down to the clinic. They speed off. It takes at least 5 minutes to walk, and we struggle to keep up with them which they clearly find hilarious. I hear them laugh and say they nearly lost all of us. As we walk past the Cafe I can smell bacon and my mouth waters, I'm so hungry!

We are taken to a small waiting room. One by one we are called in. I am the last. Since Chris cant come in I send him off to the cafe. No reason why he should starve himself too.

I go in and the nurse asks my name and date of birth but my brain doesn't work and I forget what shes asked. We have a good laugh.They explain that the needle needs to go in to the cancer tumour location. I explain that I have DCIS but I've already had two surgeries to remove it. We decide that injecting in to the area closest to my scar will work best.

What is a Sentinel Node Biopsy?

To explain, when you have cancer, the sentinel lymph node is the node that the cancer would get to first if it was trying to spread. Examining cells in these first nodes can give your doctor a lot of information about the state of your cancer. During the sentinel lymph node biopsy, they inject dye in to the cancer site. The dye then moves from to the injection site in to the lymphatic system. Blue nodes, or "hot" nodes (nodes with high radioactive counts), are where the dye hits first, these are called the sentinel nodes and all hot nodes are removed and sent to histology for testing.

The injection doesn't take long and then I'm sent back to the waiting area. One of the ladies already in her gown is told she will be going straight to theatre. We are wait for someone to come and take us backup to the ward when I hear the phone ring in the office. I hear my name repeated back and the word theatre. Oh god, I must be going straight to theatre too. I panic! I haven't even got my gown on, it takes about 20 minutes for me to get the DVT sock on usually and Chris is in the cafe!!

I sit there for a few minutes expecting someone to come and let me know but no one does so I knock on the office door. "Excuse me, did I just hear that I'm going to theatre. Do I need to get my gown on?" "Oh yes, sorry love."

The lady that did my injection overhears, she shows me to the changing room and volunteers to go and collect Chris from the Cafe.

I rush as I get ready but feel calm again when I hear Chris' voice outside. I stuff my clothes and boots in to my bag and don my dressing gown and slippers.

A man from theatre arrives with a wheel chair and we head off. The hospital is huge. We go through what feels like hundreds of corridors and up in a lift. Chris and I kiss and say goodbye and I'm wheeled in to the theatre recovery room. Apparently there is a lot of work going on in the hospital so the waiting and recovery rooms are combined fora few weeks.

11.30
I'm checked in at the desk. 2 theatre staff check my name, date of birth and NHS number against my wrist band. There are a number of people in the room, some of which are recovering from surgery and some (like me) waiting to go down. Each person has a member of the medical team assigned to them. Mine is the guy that wheeled me here. I recognise another as the anaesthetist from my last surgery.

12.00
I'm still waiting, making small talk with my new friend when a  new lady is brought back from theatre. The curtain next to me is drawn and i can here the team trying to bring her round. All of a sudden there is a huge commotion. The lady is attempting to get out of bed. They call for assistance, people are running to physically pin this lady down. She is becoming really aggressive shouting at the nurses to get off her and at one point almost pulls her drain out - she's had breast surgery too and I quickly realise that it was one of the other ladies I'd seen up on the ward earlier. After about 20 minutes of constant struggle it becomes apparent that this lady has become aggressive after previous anesthetic before - its on her notes.  I'm on my own, just listening to the poor lady who sounds so scared and the staff trying desperately to calm her down.

12.20
Mr M, my surgeon pops his head around the curtain and lets me know he won't be too long. He takes my notes from the back of the wheelchair that I am still in so he can refresh himself on my journey and diagnosis before he begins.

12.30
The poor lady next door is still fighting so one of the nursing team pops over to reassure me that the lady is ok. Its nothing they have done and it wont be too long now 'til I go down.

12.40
Finally I'm on my way to theatre. Only it appears that I have put my gown on back to front so I have to quickly get half naked in the theatre anesthetic room while everyone looks away. I'm mortified!

Next job is to get the cannula in, I pump my fist to try and assist. Usually I have great veins but since I haven't had a drink for over 12 hours it seems they have shriveled. They get one in but when they try to flush it, it becomes clear that it's not in the right place. They quickly take it out and ask me to pump my first again. As she tries a new place I can feel a lot blood dripping out of the the place shes just tried. The lady realises and asks someone too pass some gauze - there must be blood all over the floor! Soon it's in but it's in a really awkward place at the side of my wrist.

The oxygen mask goes on and the anaesthetic goes in.

SLEEP

15.00 As I start to come around I glance at the clock. I'm told everything went well. Everything feels very numb and I have one drain in place. I'm given a cup of water and I ask for more. I'm so thirsty. I drift back off to sleep.

16.10 I wake up again and ask for more water and more pain killers. I'm really sore. I tell them I'm hungry but they cant give me anything until I'm moved to a ward and at the minute there are no beds.

17.30 I'm still here. Still hungry. They keep me watered but I really need food! People that have come out of theatre after me have already left for the ward. I ask the nurse of they have contacted Chris to let him know I'm ok. She said they usually do that on the ward. I explain he'll be really worried so she goes to get the phone. It won't connect! Typical.

18.00 Still here!! I ask them to try Chris again. This time they leave me with the phone and I get through. Chris sounds so relieved to here my voice. He'd been calling different parts of the hospital and had been really starting to worry. He'd left me over 6 and a half hours ago for an op that should have taken only 2 and he had been thinking the worst.

19.15 At last I hear that I'm moving. I'm the only one left on the recovery ward and I still haven't eaten. Apparently there are no beds on the main ward so I'm going to my own room in the private part of the hospital. Result! Lets hope they have some decent food there because I honestly feel like I'm being tortured. I ask to call Chris again so he can make his way in.

19.30 I arrive. Finally!! They leave me on the theatre bed and wheel me in. I have an en suite room and a TV (although no remote!) I ask them to pass me my mobile so I can call my mum. I tell her I'm ok then buzz for food. They bring me some soup and a sandwich which I devour in minutes. I decided to get up to go to the loo so I pop my drain in my special Drain Dollies drain bag and head in. I'm so glad I have my own room.

20.00 Chris arrives. I'm so relieved to see him. He brings me more food - yay for hospital grapes! The children are at his mum's so I know he cant stay long.

21.30 Chris heads off and I ask for more painkillers. I'm given oramorph but it doesn't agree with me and soon I'm feeling very sickly. I keep drinking water to take the nasty feeling away. My obs are checked and all is well. Although I've slept so much in the recovery are that I'm wide awake.

02:00 After a few toilet trips,more obs and pain killers and a lot of TV I finally turn my light off and head off to sleep.

MRI Results and Psychologist

Finally some good news. It looks like the MRI has come back clear on the right side. The full report still needs to go through MDT next Wednesday so my operation will now take place on Monday 19th February and even better news, Mr M will be looking after me from now on and will be doing the surgery himself. I leave the breast clinic and head upstairs to meet Mr B - the psychologist.

I'm strangely excited to be seeing a shrink but I have no idea what to expect. As I sit and wait I imagine laying on a chaise longue and pouring my heart out. In reality, I walk in and sit on a chair opposite Mr B. He's friendly and noting my obvious disappointment and the lack of a movie style set he apologises.

He explains how the session works and asks me what I hope to get from the session. I explain I want to try and separate my cancer journey from my Dads. I tell him I am still grieving. I tell him I want to ensure that all my decisions are made based on fact rather than fear. I mention my work worries too. We talk for over an hour and he tells me he's impressed with how I'm already analysing each step within my situation, taking my career skills and using them to help me along my journey.

The session is such a positive experience. It's so nice to talk to a stranger about my problems, my life - someone with no interest other than helping me, you can talk without feeling you're burdening.

I leave on a high. He knows Im making the right decision for me as far as the risk reducing surgery but he suggests I see him again following my mastectomy to talk again.

Work Mates Rule

So after seeing the doctor yesterday I was feeling a bit down. I had arranged to meet up with my team from work. They very kindly made the drive to where I live and we had a lovely dinner together. At the end of the evening I was presented with a huge amount of really thoughtful gifts; pyjamas for hospital, colouring books and pencils to help with boredom, toiletries, chocolate, biscuits and quite possibly the best pre mastectomy boob cake I ever did see. 

I'd told the guys that I thought we should have a bit of a party for the left boob ahead of my mastectomy and this just made me roar. A good sense of humour and good old laughs are often the best medicine through tough times. They even made boob straws for us all to drink from!

So lovely to see everyone. Thank you so much - what a fantastic team I have. x

Getting What I Want

Today we headed back to the hospital to meet the new consultant. We waited as usual but today I didn't have the nervous feeling in my tummy. I was back in fighting mode.

"Leanne"

My breast nurse calls, I confirm my details and head in. Mr M introduces himself, shakes my hands. "I know you don't know me," he says, "but I know everything about you and your journey. I am part of the MDT (multi disciplinary team) where we discuss your case each week. I know that you have had a pretty rough journey so far and things just keep getting worse for you." He explains that Tracy my breast nurse has advised that since the very start I had wanted a bilateral (two boobs) mastectomy then goes onto explain he is willing to listen but there are procedures that would need to be followed.

"Actually," I say. "I have done a bit of a 360 on that for now." I explain how I've researched A LOT and actually I am willing to go down the silicone route initially and see how it goes. I have already been referred to the psychologist about the risk reducing surgery but it is definitely the route I want to go down eventually.  He agrees that I should have the diseased beast done first because if I hate the cosmetic result and I've chosen to remove my 'healthy' breast then I may regret it forever.

I run through my questions and he is straight to the point answering every one with complete raw honesty. He looks me in the eye permanently, I try and do the same but that always makes me feel uneasy - like I'm in some kind of non blinking staring competition! He seems blunt and at first I don't know if I love him or hate him!

I explain how I am completely 100% convinced there is something going on in my right breast. He says he gets it, my instincts have been completely correct throughout and that combined with the false 'clear' ultrasound and mammogram on the left breast, he would feel the same. I ask about an MRI. He tells me he believes it's unnecessary. I ask again "Can it be done just to confirm? Otherwise I will always be in a constant state of panic about it."

"Yes, I'd be happy to refer you just for piece of mind."

Relief.

I then point out that I have metal work in my wrist so can I even have an MRI anyway?! Good question. Mr H doesn't know but he'll find out. I'm told that MRI scans can usually show a false positive result so having the scan would potentially mean the operation booked for 8th February may need to be postponed.

I look at Mr H but he's picked up his mobile and appears to be texting! What the hell!? No wait, he's calling someone - the radiology team. He explains my diagnosis, that I need an MRI but I have the plate in my wrist. He asks me dates from that op. Then I hear "Great news, thanks."

Wow, this guy gets shit done!! Any other doctor would have dictated a letter, had his secretary mail it over and Id have waited a week to find out if I could even have the scan. It was at that moment I decided I really liked the guy. He also agreed to recommend me for gene testing too. Brilliant.

He lets me take away a copy of my histology report and my nurse runs me through everything from the last surgery properly. She tells me that I am completely within my rights to decide which surgeon I want to perform my mastectomy. I ask who she would choose and she eyeballs the door that we have come from. I tell her I want him to do it - Mr M - definitely.

I leave the hospital for the first time feeling confident. Finally I'm getting somewhere.

By the time we get home the phone is ringing. It's my breast nurse - she needs to know the start date of my last period. Luckily I track my dates on the Clue app on my phone so I tell her exactly when it was - 18th January. She lets out a sigh and says she'll come back to me.

By 4pm the radiologist has called. They can fit me in on Saturday morning. That was fast!