Dear Friends and Family,

8 weeks post op today! Damn, this is a loooong recovery, and it’s still not over. 

A few milestones to illustrate the slowness/just how far I’ve come since day 1 (when I couldn’t stand on my own two feet for 2 minutes)…

The first time I: 

• Was motivated enough to floss my teeth was on day 25
• Slept in my bed (vs a power lift recliner), day 26
• Had the confidence I could “manage and enjoy going out to eat” (Ie comfortably sit in restaurant chair, walk from the parking lot to the table, etc), day 32 
• Showered standing up, all by myself, day 48
• Walked a mile in under 25 minutes, Day 51
• Drove, day 53
• Washed my hair, all by myself, while standing up, today, day 56

The lack of physical and mental stamina and the slow gains, after 8 weeks, are still shocking to me. Some days I still need to take a nap/lounge break after folding a load of laundry or prepping a dish. But gains there are, so yeah! The other shocking aspect of recovery is how tight my abdomen feels. I’m still working on an accurate metaphor. Permanent pants two sizes two small, a belt without give, being squeezed by your always there new best friend, a gorilla…none of these are perfect, but you get the gist. 

Today I am cleared to lift more than 5 pounds! That means a full gallon of milk, or a full compost pail, or a child’s limb. 

While I’m not fully recovered by any means, I am at the point where “as long as I listen to my body” I can do more “everyday life” without risk of injuring myself or my incisions. I have a new appreciation for people with chronic pain or unable to be independent in taking care of their bodies. I will never take a day I can wash my own hair for granted again. Rebuilding my stamina, strength, and regaining my arms full range of motion is my new focus. I guess when you have 52 inches of incisions that need to heal, and 8.5 hours of anesthesia to clear from your system, it is a slow process. 

No recovery is without its hiccups. And like everything else on this BRCA journey – my hiccup was not what I spent hours of my life preparing for (err…worrying about). When will I get it through my thick skull that I am not in control? 

I was mentally prepared for wound issues, or drains for weeks. I was not mentally prepared for our family getting COVID. Yup. And it was a slow cascade that got all four of us. Mike and Ethan. Four days later Owen. And another 2 days later me. To avoid exposing my parents, I had to parent and solo parent before I was ready or wanted to, when I felt like COVID shit, and could barely spread the peanut butter on the bread. But that black hole of suck is behind us. As are the vast majority of COVID symptoms. I’m awarding myself a gold medal for living through it. This could have been a lot worse. Even two weeks earlier, this would have been a different situation. 

All in all healing was/is going well. I’ve already blocked out the shitty parts and continue to be grateful for ya’ll who helped out. Meals. Play dates. Gestures of love and encouragement. Your involvement in this healing journey will forever be appreciated. There are not enough thank yous in the world for my parents and brother. They, and especially my mom, did the bulk of the heavy lifting for our family. 

Even though I’m so over going under, I will likely choose to do a revision surgery for cosmetic purposes. I’m going to wait until the fall to let my new tissue “settle” and really understand what I’ll look like. I’m feeling strangely vulnerable to commit the details to writing. The irony of this is not lost on me, as they may end up in my book. In storytelling, I believe the advice is “you share your scars, not your wounds” and this experience is too raw to share these intimate details. Literally raw… “dissolvable” stitches are surfacing like fish bones sticking out of my abdominal incision. In principle, I believe if one decides their best chance of survival is to amputate body parts, and the medical world is capable of reconstructing said body parts, if it makes you happy when you’re naked, go for that revision. Bring your birthday suit back to sparkly life. 

If I actually move forward with a “touch up surgery” as my surgeon calls it, I’ll let you know. It would be a “walk in the park” compared to the 3 surgeries I’ve had this past year, “only” a two week lifting restriction. Side note, let’s refer to this as a “phase 3” or a “revision” surgery.  Because I’m not a car. Or as my lymph massage therapist explained, “What awful phrasing! You go in for a ‘touch up’ on your roots, not with anesthesia and a knife”. 

If you have had liposuction, I’d love to chat and learn about your experience with the pain and recovery. That’s how they would “harvest” more tissue to then inject and smooth things out. Actually, it’s really fascinating when it’s not your body. 

If I have a revision surgery, I’ll let you know. You are excellent at putting the good vibes into the universe.

Happy solstice. May tomorrow bring more light and love for you and yours. 

Hope to see you out in the world in the new year. 

XOXO,

Jessie 

#BRCA #BRCA2 #EmailToFriendsNFamily