On Surgery: Marlene's Breast Cancer Story, Part 4

My diagnosis is ductal carcinoma in situ. I am having a lumpectomy with the affected lymph nodes removed. Dr. Victor Pavamani has been given his orders — do a good job, get it all the first time, and I want a blow dart for pain and anxiety fired into me as I top the hill to the hospital.

As I wait for Nurse Tammy, Jane Alexander, who volunteers at the hospital, drops in for a visit. We are laughing about her new great-grandson, Boo. He was due on Halloween, and his sister had started calling Mama’s “lump” Baby Boo. You know he will never be anything else.

Snell is visiting in the hallway with all the people he taught or whose parents he knew. That is a nice thing for him. He has lived here all of his life and grew up with so many of the families and taught their children. The nice thing for me is that Nurse Tammy is coming at me with a really big syringe full of the good stuff.

Nurse Tammy has shot me up with Kick-A-Pooh-Joy Juice, and I was rolling, rolling, rolling down the hall. Tina Turner was singing. The team of anesthesia doctors and staff are really The Tams. They are doing syncopated hand gestures with their stethoscopes as they dance. Dr. Pavamani was a set of brown eyes talking to me. And, I couldn’t say one word. I think I am singing Proud Mary with Tina Turner, Jane Alexander and Nurse Tammy as my back up singers.  Jane is wearing a purple hat that matches her shoes and IV bag.

I vaguely remember people trying to strap me into clothing, rolling me down the hallway to the car. When I awoke to the sensibilities that I was at home, in my recliner, I had a big blue booby. Blue dye was injected into the breast to locate lymph nodes. For two days, I peed peacock blue, my skin was greenishly tinted, like Lily Munster. Even the whites of my eyes were blue.

I remember being told that I would be a little tender and have some bruising.  People lie to you. I was swollen. I was an aurora borealis of colors, and I couldn’t lift my left arm. Nor did I want to lift my left arm. I was capable of snarling if someone got too close to me. That was about it. Ramona and I spent hours together in my chair.  She would eat a crunchy, and I would eat a Lortab.

But, it has been a week. I am still tender, especially where the lymph nodes were extracted. The colors are fading, and I can pretty well do whatever I want now. Dr. Pavamani got the report back and all the margins were clear.

I went to sleep with cancer, I woke up cancer free. 

And now I start radiation. Dr. John Gargus is the doctor at . This is the at .  It is a lovely building with very delightful people. Neither the radiotherapy staff nor I have any idea of what we will experience together over the next eight weeks.