Michelle Weirich

I went to a different hospital with my dad, to have some dye injected into my left breast so that the surgeon would be able to detect and remove my sentinel lymph node as part of the surgery.  It was a really quick procedure and I didn't find it too painful.

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On the way home I was suddenly very emotional and had a tearful moment with my dad.  Although I was pleased and relieved that the surgery was happening, I was worried about the anaesthetic and part of me felt like I should be saying my final words and goodbyes, just in case I didn't wake up.  It sounds dramatic but I was genuinely afraid this might happen and that I wouldn't be around for my children.  As well as worrying about the anaesthetic, lots of other irrational thoughts about the operation were going through my mind.

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The next morning I was nervous, especially as we approached the hospital.  It was weird to think that I wouldn't have breasts by the end of the day but good to know that the cancer would finally be gone.

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Once Matt and I had arrived at the hospital, we didn't have to wait very long before I was called through.  I was ushered into a room with two other ladies and Matt was told he had to leave at that point.  It was a bit daunting at first but I soon got talking to the other ladies who were lovely and made me feel at ease. 

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The nurse came round to do our observations and get us changed for theatre, then a little later I met the surgeon and the anaesthetist.  The surgeon went through everything that would be happening and drew the markings on my skin to show whereabouts the incisions would be made.  He explained there would be two surgeons (as it was a bilateral mastectomy) to ensure the procedure was as quick as possible.  He was really kind and reassuring, as was the anaesthetist and although I was still nervous, I felt so much better after speaking to them both.

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Before I knew it, I was walking to theatre where I met another amazing nurse who was so kind and, between him and the anaesthetist, they did an absolutely brilliant job at making me feel comfortable and distracting me from what was about to happen; we were having a great chat, reminiscing about old TV game shows!  The anaesthetist then inserted a cannula into my hand (she was so gentle, I didn't feel a thing) and gave me a drug to help me relax.  It felt as if I was drunk because the room was spinning slightly but it was a nice feeling, like I didn't have a care in the world!  Shortly after, she told me she was going to give me the anaesthetic and the next thing I remember is waking up in recovery.

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Upon waking, my first feeling was sheer relief and elation.  My horrible cancer-ridden boobs were gone!  I was so overjoyed to be here and to hear that everything went okay.  The nurse in recovery was brilliant; she held my hand and told me how strong I was.  The gratitude I felt towards her and everyone involved in the procedure was overwhelming.  I remember being incredibly emotional and thankful; they had saved my life!

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The recovery nurse accompanied me to the ward; I became really attached to her and didn't want her to leave!  The nurses on the ward were all brilliant though, I felt so lucky to be in such good hands. 

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Overall, I had such a positive experience in hospital and have so much respect and admiration for the doctors and nurses; they have an incredible amount of responsibility and do the most amazing job.

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Still elated (and on a lot of pain relief!) I felt on top of the world when Matt and my parents came to visit me in hospital.  It was a lovely ward and I met some great people to share stories with.  I was waiting for reality to set in and to start feeling low but it just didn't happen.  I thought I might cry when I looked at my scars in the mirror for the first time but I just smiled; it was a neat job and still a relief to see that the cancer was gone!

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I was discharged and home by the following evening.  I still had two drains in (one on each side) and the delightful surgical stockings to wear!  I was in a little pain once all of the anaesthetic and drugs started to wear off; I felt winded which was uncomfortable and I was tired, but that only lasted for a few days.  My scars and chest  were tender but not painful, I just had to be careful not to knock myself which was easier said than done with my youngest son, Harry who was two and a half at the time!  Having said that, even at two and a half, he did seem to understand that he had to be gentle with me.  Jack (our eldest) was a bit quiet at first and found it hard to look at me (especially with the drains in) but one morning he accidentally walked in as I was getting dressed and saw my scars.  He was shocked and walked straight back out of the room.  I was worried about what he was thinking but we had a chat and I told him that I understood my scars looked a bit frightening now as they still had the glue on them, but that they would look better in time.  Since then, he's seen my scars as they've healed and now doesn't look away.  I didn't make a point of getting him to look at them but I've not tried to cover up either so he's just seen them when I'm dressing or getting out of the shower.  When I asked him recently what he thought of my scars now, he said that they were "not scary anymore" and that they just "look like a bruise". 

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My drains came out about a week after the operation.  I felt as light as a feather and a great sense of freedom; I practically skipped out of the hospital!  The nurse asked me if I wanted prostheses but I said I wanted to embrace the "no boob" look.  I'd been shopping with my mum before the operation and invested in a new wardrobe which would suit my new flat chested figure (not that it was much different from before!).  I actually enjoyed the creative challenge and it really helped me stay positive before the operation.

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The rest of my recovery from the operation was relatively straight forward and I was generally quite happy and up-beat.  I design greeting cards in my spare time so did a lot of drawing which gave me a focus while I wasn't working and helped me relax. 

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There were, of course, weepy moments and days where I was a bit down as I adjusted to my post-op figure and reflected on what I'd been through.  The first night I was home from hospital, I was tired and upset; I told Matt that he had my blessing to go to a strip club if he ever wanted to see some boobs but he just laughed.  Needless to say he hasn't taken me up on that suggestion (not yet anyway!).

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On the 13th July, I had an appointment at the hospital to discuss the findings of the tissue and lymph node that were removed in surgery.  The results were quite shocking; the cancer turned out to be Grade 3 (the fastest growing) but they had also found a pre-invasive cancer in my right breast!  My response to this was "little f***ers"! (referring to the cancer cells).  We couldn't believe it.  All I could think was, thank goodness I had opted for the double mastectomy, otherwise I'd have been going through this all again in six months' or a year's time and things could have been a lot worse; the cancer on my right breast was very close (within 1mm) from my chest wall so I may not have caught it in time.  As far as I was concerned, I'd had a lucky escape. 

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The good news was that there was no cancer in my lymph node which was a massive relief however the recommendation was still to have chemotherapy and now definitely radiotherapy as well due to the proximity of the cancer on the right side to my muscle.  Also as a result of this, the consultant arranged for a CT scan to check that the cancer had not spread elsewhere.  Luckily the CT scan was clear; another huge relief. 

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Now I had to continue my recovery from the operation and wait to hear about chemotherapy; I was dreading it.

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