Equity, and my *only* surgery

My surgery went better than I had hoped on Friday, the 20th. I had completed my pre-screening at the hospital the day before: two blood tests, a urine sample, and a chest x-ray.

My report time for the procedure wasn't until 11:00 am, so I had plenty of time to not eat or drink anything in preparation. Normally this would have bothered me, but my nerves must have helped me ignore my thirst and hunger. When I checked in at surgical services, I was sent back over to the imaging lab. Wasn't I just here? Deja vu! Third time's the charm I guess. This time I was lead to a room with a a curtain and bed in the back of the room. The nurse and tech explained that the radiologist would be inserting the radioactive dye used to perform the sentinel node biopsy. Oh boy. I had hear that sometimes this procedure is done through the areola, and that it can be very painful. I took advantage of the opportunity to ask the nurse. She told me it just depends where the cancer is at, and that the pain felt varies from patient to patient. Super reassuring. The radiologist comes in, and gives me a small shot from the outside of my breast. He explains this procedure has gone through a lot of changes in the last couple of years, that yes, some patients find it painful or experience a burning sensation, but that most find its pain similar to that of a lidocaine shot. Sure enough, it is no big deal for me.

I'm so relieved, that my nervous joking goes beyond my normal comfort level - the nurse tells me I can turn the hospital gown around, with the opening in the back so that it is less revealing. I say "what if I want to show them off while they're still real?" She says "everybody has their own way of coping with this situation, I even know some women have "revealing" parties after their surgeries." I blush at the thought that I was joking and she thought I was serious! I try to assure her I was joking, and then curiosity gets the best of me and I ask about the revealing parties. Yeah. Sorry guys, that is just not the way I'm going to handle having falsies! Later on as we are preparing for surgery the nurse flips through my chart with a confused look on her face. "Do you have any allergies?" She asks me. I smile and say "Nope. I'm perfectly healthy other than the cancer."

She keeps rapidly flipping through pages and says "I can't seem to find the record of your prior surgeries..." to which I reply "That's because this is my only surgery." "You've never had another surgery?" "Nope. I've never been placed under general anesthesia before. I don't plan on doing it again, either." The plastic surgeon comes in with a marker to draw lovely curves on my skin so that they will make sure to put my fake breasts in the right places. I'm glad it's so technical. ;) He is very optimistic, and tells me his cancer patients often look better than before they started. Then he laughs self-deprecatingly, and says "Maybe I shouldn't over-promise!" His nurse reminds me that this procedure today is not about looks. She stumbles around it a bit, and I catch on that she's concerned I might think I will come out of the operation with normal looking breasts. I try to reassure her and be funny - "You mean, I'm going to have a double mastectomy, and I'm going to look like I've had a double mastectomy, with the beginnings of reconstruction. Okay. Yup, got it!" I smile at her so she'll know I'm not being crazy positive because I have unrealistic expectations!

My memory is pretty spotty after they wheel me toward the operating room. Retrograde amnesia, my hubby reminds me, is one of the side-effects of general anesthesia. But, I do remember most of the recovery room. It was pretty funny. Apparently I inherited the "talk it up and share lots of jokes in the recovery room" gene from both of my parents. Their stories are far more humorous than mine. I woke up to the plastic surgeon telling me the procedure was over, and it went great. I must have recognized his voice, because I certainly don't remember seeing him. Several silly minutes later I was in my hospital room. It was strange to be back with my family members and have them know more about the surgery than I did, but I am grateful the docs and nurses kept them informed. All of the five lymph nodes they removed looked clean. Dr. T. reminds me they have a 90 % correct track record on this in the OR. Amazing! I wake up pretty sore, and soon discover that oxycodone is my new best friend. One night I try just taking one pill, instead of the two I am allowed, and I wake up in pain. The nurse offers me some morphine until the second pill arrives and then has time to take effect. "Huh," I tell her "I didn't realize I had a headache. But nothing else changed." Turns out the morphine was nearly unnoticeable! Oh, yeah, and the blue dye they gave me during the operation to help identify my sentinel lymph node turned my urine the same color as lime green jell-o!

Lime Jell-O will make me giggle for a long time!

That was freaking awesome! I spent a lot of time sleeping and visiting with amazing nurses, techs, housekeeping staff, dietary staff, and family and friends. All in all it was like a vacation where you're woken up several times a night to check your vital signs and where you need help getting to the restroom. Oh. That doesn't sound much like a vacation, does it? Good thing they sent me home a couple of days later! I spent as much time as I could sharing my testimony with people. It seemed really, really important that they hear about these really cool faith-building experiences I kept having. I'm not sure many of them 'got' what I was trying to communicate. Maybe I'll do a better job sharing here.
Thursday night I had another profound spiritual experience. As most of you are aware, I belong to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I'm a Mormon. Like most Christian religions, we believe in "the laying on of hands" as mentioned in Hebrews 6:2, or perhaps a better example is when Christ's disciples "anointed with oil many that were sick, and healed them" in Mark 6:13. Anointing and healing through the power of God is mentioned in many places throughout both Old and New Testaments. I've had practitioners of other faiths lay their hands upon me and bless me in Jesus' name. I've also been anointed and blessed through the Preisthood power by members of my church. I have faith that miraculous healings occur through the power of God (and through our faith) even in modern times.

While I knew this kind of healing was not part of God's will for me during this trial, I also have faith that He might have other, more important blessings to bestow, so I asked for such a blessing the night before I went into surgery. As my father placed the oil on my head, I felt a little surreal moment, and said "I feel like we just barely did this. Would you guys mind if we switched it up tonight, and Shane anoints me and my dad gives the blessing?" To be honest, it had only been a week and a half since my last blessing, so we really had just barely done it. "Whatever you want!" They both say, and promptly trade jobs. So. My dad gives me this incredible blessing. My mom and husband are listening. My dad does his best with interpreting what the spirit gives him to say, which apparently includes blessing me with equity. And telling me about the equity I am being blessed with. And what I will do with the equity I am being blessed with. As the blessing closes in Jesus' name, I say "Wow. I'm not sure I know how to react to that." My mom shakes her head and lets it drop into her hand as she says my dad's name with her "what were you thinking?" tone. He starts to apologize to me - "I'm sorry babe, I know that blessing didn't make a lot of sense..." and I stop them both and tell them "NO. That's just it. It made perfect sense TO ME. I know you it didn't make any sense to you. That's why I don't know how to react. That blessing was to me, the words were meant for me, and I understood what Heavenly Father needed me to hear." Then I got to share some pretty amazing things with them, and clearly, I am not sharing all of these things on my public blog, but let me tell you about this one. Equity. When that word came out of my father's mouth during my blessing it was like someone else was talking to me. When he expounded on the equity I was being blessed with, and what I am destined to do with that equity - I'm telling you. It was divine. What my spouse and parents didn't know was that I have been studying the health economics of breast cancer for my English class. During my brief examination of the articles I'm considering using for my research project I became a little bothered by some of the moral implications of the studies. Since I want to become a health economist, it's kind of a big deal that I not have moral reservations regarding what I want to do with my life, you know? So, during my study I decide I'm going to tackle a rather hairy aspect of the research. The two objectives of health economics are efficiency and equity. I'm going to examine the equity side of the issue, and try to hold health economics accountable to these objectives. The two objectives are almost mutually exclusive. This is why it is so critical that both objectives be acknowledged and promoted. One without the other will not lead us to optimal health care knowledge. It's massive. It's just this huge thing to me, and it's all wrapped up in this giant process of me deciding what I want to be when I grow up and how I will make a significant contribution to the world. And there it is. In my blessing before my double mastectomy. I am blessed with equity. And I KNOW.

This is inspired. It is not a coincidence. Our language is beautiful and complex, but a word like equity doesn't randomly show up in a blessing for health. I just can't seem to communicate how cool this is to people. It's profound. God spoke to me, and He made it obvious that it was coming from Him. I mean - I know He's there. I know He loves each and every one of His children. Sometimes it just feels like "but there are so many of us..." or "but He's so busy..." or a million other ways in which we discount the enormous magnitude of His belief in us! That word - equity - it was not my father's word. He didn't know what he was talking about. My mother was almost disappointed in the blessing because I wasn't blessed with the things that you would expect to hear in a pre-operation blessing. But I was blessed with what I needed. And I was told what I needed to hear. And whether you know what "equity" or "efficiency" or "economics" mean, I think you can recognize that this was not an average experience. There is a grand design. God loves us. He loves me. He loves you.