Soreness and stem cell research

Very sore! I am a virtual drug store having taken a little Tylenol, motrin and oxy along with my daily required aspirin. I am still extremely sore! Although I am thrilled to be home with my family I think this surgery as an out-patient may have been a bit of a stretch. Ice packs will be next for me I think. Whining aside, I am home and moving around so all in all not too bad.

I read over my written release instructions. Funny even though I signed them yesterday I had no real clue what they said. I get to take the surgical bra off tomorrow. There are bandages under it that must stay on and not wet until Wednesday. Getting this bra off will be good. It is very tight and annoying. It could be worse!

So an interesting thing happened before the surgery during my pre-meeting with the surgeon. He explained that due to the controversies over the use of embryonic stem cells, doctors have been looking for others that would be useful. He is part of a team researching stem cells derived from fat cells. He asked for consent to use the fat that would have been discarded from the liposuction as part of the research study. He said that the results so far showed that though not as robust as those in the embryonic cells, the fat-derived stem cells were showing promising results. Very cool..sure use my fat and if you need more take what you like!

It would be nice to think that some day it will be possible to treat tissue or bone defects or other diseases and that my fat will have been part of it!

An apology for my girls, an education for me

I remember when my girls were born, such little angels. So helpless. As I have written before, I still thought they were helpless before the Mastectomy. Over the last 52 days since, they have shown me how wrong I was, how much they have grown. I debate with myself if this “growth” was good or forced because of my surgery and will therefor have a negative impact.

From time to time I feel I owe them an apology. The other day was one of those days. Maybe with the surgery tomorrow, my mind has been swirling a little more that I thought. The apology went a little like this:

I know this summer has not been what you had both hoped for and for that I am sorry. I know that you would rather have been doing a hundred other things instead of taking care of me. I am sorry for that and I love you both very much! Megan quickly jumped it with: ” No problem mom. If I understand what you told us you did this so you would not get sick. So if you do not get sick then you will be around when I have children and I need you to be around because I don’t even know how to hold a baby”. To which Madison jumped in with “me either Megan, do you have to keep a hand under the babies head?”

That was the end of the apology and the beginning of a 15 minute conversation about babies, holding them, diapers, baby gas and were they gassy babies. I guess growth comes from all experiences good, bad, positive, negative, forced and intended. All are necessary and I guess the important thing is ensuring we are always there for them to talk to no matter what is happening.

After a conversation like that I realize…they are just fine. Perfect as a matter of fact! No matter what they will always be my babies, and I will worry about everything but they are growing into wonderful little girls!

Tomorrow is the day! NEWPPLES!

And yes, they were both gassy babies!

“Brave” revisited

Since the beginning of this entire process, at least the beginning of telling other people what decision I had made regarding my health, the decision to voluntary have my breast removed in order to not become a cancer statistic, I have lost count of the amount of time I have been told how brave I am. It comes in different forms, brave, strong, how much people respect me, etc.

I find these comments to be as strange now as I have since the beginning. I posted a page called “Brave” in June and I am left with the same question today as I had then, is it brave to do the only thing really available to possibly prevent cancer and extend your time? I remember the day I got the call with the pathology report, “My holy shit day“, I was numb. That call was the reality staring me in the face of what would have been had I not had the surgery. The basic guarantee that within the next few years, a cancer patient.

In some ways I feel pressure, I have always been the strong one. Even when I worked, I was sent into situations that needed to be fixed. I was the one who dealt with the “problem” employees, implementing unpopular changes or the tough decisions. Honestly, I like to be in those positions. I like a challenge but this is different. There have been many days when I have felt like pure shit yet someone texts or sees you near the mail box and the last thing they expect to hear from me is the truth. I don’t mean that to sound bad, I mean it makes me feel good that people look at me this way, just sometimes I guess things are not always as they appear.

So, Brave? Running like hell away from something I saw running toward me? To me the only decision I had to make. But if my story can help someone, inspire someone well good! Take control!

Two more days until Newpples….

Took the girls to the salon today for back to school cuts. I think they enjoy it just a bit too much.