Wednesday 30th October

Yesterday was Op number two to get clear margins on the ‘cyst that turned out to be a tumour’ that was taken out during the first operation in September.

It felt much easier than the first time as there was no wire needed, no radioactive dye required we just literally rocked up at the Day Surgery Unit at 12.30pm and were quickly shown to a little cubicle. We knew the drill this time so knew exactly what to expect.

First visitor to the cubicle was my lovely surgeon Ms Athwal in her full scrubs. She got out her tape measure and sharpie pen and set to work mapping out the surgery on my chest. To get clear margins she was going to have to remove my left nipple (right one has already gone so at least I match now). She used her tape measure to work out where the scar would need to start and end to match the other side. I appreciated her consideration to the aesthetics; I was filled with confidence that she would make it look the best she could. She is also great at tying up the hospital gowns to protect your modesty!

I asked her whether she’d have recommended a mastectomy on my left side had she initially known that there were two tumours in the same breast, but she said she wouldn’t have. The reason being both tumours were small and in the same quadrant (see I can even talk like a surgeon now) so a lumpectomy would always have been her recommendation.

Next to visit the cubicle were two anaesthetists. One was a lovely young smiley man called Simon who I can only presume was relatively newly qualified as he had a consultant with him. Dave had another of his classic one liners when Simon asked me ‘are we planning for you to go home tonight?’ Before I could answer Dave piped up with, ‘I hope so, she has to make the kids tea’. He always makes his jokes so seriously I think some people don’t know how to take him; it makes me giggle though.

The most interesting part of their consultation was that they realised they couldn’t use my arms to put a cannula in for the fluid (whatever it is that makes you go to sleep) and this is because I have no lymph nodes under my arms now. Apparently, if they used my arms it could cause swelling so they were going to try my leg instead, that would be different!

The nurse popped in next to do blood pressure and pulse and check all my personal details again, they do like to check they have the right person and that you are fit for surgery. I can’t knock their thoroughness.

Next to visit were two very smiley young girls who introduced themselves as 3rd year medical students who would be attending my surgery (jeez, it was going to be busy in the theatre) as part of their surgical rotation. They asked me lots of questions about my diagnosis, how I spotted the cancer, treatment plans etc. They were lovely but Dave and I did smile when they’d gone as we both agreed they just about looked old enough to be going to the pub, never mind stitching up my boob! One of them was hoping to do the suturing. Apparently, the stitches are inside and dissolvable, so I guess I’ll never know what kind of job she did.

One of my friends who works at Warwick as a theatre nurse also popped by to say hello which was lovely. It always makes a difference seeing a familiar and friendly face at times like this.

Finally, a lovely nurse came to escort me to theatre. We ended up walking through most of the hospital to get to the main theatres which must have made for an interesting sight in my gown and pumps! She assured me I’d be brought back down on a bed.

When I entered the theatre and got on the bed there were already six people present, the two students, two nurses and two anaesthetists. The nurse checks your wristband again, checks your blood pressure and then puts on the sticky pads for monitoring you whilst you’re under. She checked my blood pressure on my right leg but as it was inflating she said ‘you feel a bit of pressure on your arm’ (I guess it’s second nature to them) to which I retorted ‘I hoped you guys up here knew one limb from another’ she laughed at her mistake. Meanwhile the cannula was being inserted into my ankle which was different, didn’t really hurt but I think it took them a couple of attempts to fine a good vein for it to go into.

As the cannula started pumping the fluid in and the face mask was held near to my face I quickly drifted off.

When I woke up, I was taken back to the ward to recover. I didn’t have any tears this time, just felt a little woozy and tired but that soon passed and I was quickly drinking tea and eating biscuits. Dave arrived not too long afterwards and then Ms Athwal (my surgeon) visited me to say everything had gone well. My theatre nurse friend popped by again which was lovely and we had a chat and a laugh.

Dave and I were slightly amused at a different surgeon who visited a lady (maybe in her 60’s or 70’s) in a cubicle who had clearly had some surgery to her ‘lady bits’. We heard him say quite loudly ‘So no sex for a couple of weeks’ she must have rebuffed him and he said, ‘We’re not ageist here’. I doubt it would be her age stopping her, maybe just soreness and lack of desire!! I’ve always said those cubicles don’t provide much privacy.

After a successful wee (a prerequisite for discharge) we got to go home about 5.30pm.

Thankfully a very kind friend had made my boys tea, so I didn’t need to.

Psychologically I feel ok about the surgery. I’ve already come to terms with losing one nipple so I don’t need to mourn the second one (I can’t see it anyway yet because of dressings). Also, after the last surgery this is a walk in the park. My plan now is to recover and get my strength back up for when the chemo starts.

I also see it as obstacle 2 of 11 done.

That’s 18% of the way through this journey as I know it, it sounds more as a percentage!