I guess breasts are limbs...

Cari is recovering in the Limb preservation unit of the hospital. She is doing well, considering. Today is supposed to be the worst day for pain and she may need to get a little blood. She is in good spirits and has had a steady stream of famliy vistors helping her through the day. I am able to get wireless in the hospital and she is reading your comments to help stay positive.

The surgery went well and the results are pretty incredible, new breasts and a flat stomach. The reconstruction surgeon must have even more ability to focus than Cari considering an 11 hour surgery using a microscope for most of it. Cari was able to get up twice yesterday and may be able to take a few steps today.

We hope she will be able to leave the hospital either Tuesday or Wednesday. But first she needs to be able to sit up and stand on her own, the pulse in her breasts needs to stay there (they check it every hour), needs to be able to take pills, eat foods, and get unplugged from the mess of cords (oxygen, pain drip, IV, leg messagers, etc).

We appreciate all you all have done for us and our family during this difficult year.
Jim

Surgery Update as of 4:30 MST

Cari's surgery began promptly at 7:30 this morning. The first surgeon came out around 10:30 and reported that all went well. Jim heard from a nurse around 1:30 that all was continuing to go well. Based on what we've been told, it sounds like she should be done with surgery sometime around 6:00ish.

So....we don't know much....but, so far, so good. More updates to come as we know more. Please continue to keep Cari in your thoughts :-)

Lisa

MY BARN HAVING BURNED TO THE GROUND I CAN NOW SEE THE MOON

My surgery is at 7:30 tomorrow morning. I have to be there at 6. When we went to the mastectomy pre-op appointment, Jim gave Dr. Miller a Starbucks card and said she could only use it on the day of my surgery. The other night (I was an idiot and didn't take a sleeping pill) I was up at 2am pondering what the plastic surgeon will do for lunch during the 8 hour surgery. Maybe I should bring him a Power Bar.
In other food news, Liam is officially a chunk. He had his 15 month appointment today (yeah, a well visit for a change!) and measured a whopping 26 pounds-- 8 more than when I got my first surgery... up from 10th percentile to 80th. This puts him above the 20 pound lifting threshold, but I, for one, am willing to deal. Because the fact that he's on viagra and is nicknamed "wham" is not enough to torment him with when he's a teenager, we've been coming up with new names for him. T calls him "Ham hocks" because of his sumo legs. My mom, in another classic malapropism, calls him "Hammer Hogs." He, of course, is unphased by distractions that keep him away from his next meal.
Jim asked me the other day if I thought it was strange to have so many people know so much about me. Strange, maybe. The best thing about this whole ridiculous experience, absolutely. You like to hope that when it comes down to it, you would be brave and strong-- but you can never really be sure if you've lived a charmed life and never really been tested. But it's funny, it's not really about being brave or strong at all. It's about being honest... because being honest has helped to create the village. I am consistently awed and humbled by the response and support I've received throughout. You have gifted me with the confidence to believe that all will be well. Carol gave me a card yesterday that says it better than I can:

my barn having burned to the ground

i can now see the moon...

(fullandbright)

Happy thought alert: pretty much any time you feel the urge all day tomorrow.

HAPPIEST BABY ON THE BLOCK

I am thrilled to say that the hospital visit yesterday went as well as we could've hoped. They did all of the tests on Liam and determined that his lungs look great and that his heart pressure is lower than they thought, so his pulmonary hypertension can be classified as "mild". He is starting medicine and can begin to wean off O2 when he's awake. He will likely be on O2 at least at night through next winter and will be on the 3x day meds for a few years, but similar to asthma, they are optimistic that he will fully outgrow this in a year or two. Yeah!
The dreaded hospital visit had it moments-- particularly the part where we had to keep him lying flat/still for 4 hours after his procedures (he's is freakishly strong and wiggly) but all the doctors were great and we were home in the afternoon instead of spending the night, as we had anticipated. Surprisingly, the medicine he will be on is Viagra. I honestly thought they were kidding, but no. It's called something else (you'd hate to give a 1-year old a bad reputation) but that's what he'll be taking-- it's a "dilator" they tell me. Who knew. I'm just glad we're done with this step and have a plan forward.

Jim and I had a kid-free stay up in the mountains last weekend, thanks to Mop, T, and Annie. We also got to go on a hot air balloon ride, thanks to the Diana Price-Fish Foundation-- kind of a "make a wish" foundation for adults, with the goal of "helping adult cancer patients enjoy life." Well, it worked. We got to go 2000 feet up and see the Fraser valley from an entirely new perspective (talk about getting above it all) and down low enough to pick a pinecone from the top of a tree. I was tickled when the pilot blew bubbles over the side. Very cool.
A week from tomorrow is BBG (boobs-be-gone) day. I had both my pre-ops (masectomy & reconstruction) this past week, and for a change, didn't have any unpleasant surprises. They did take pictures though... although this time it was the dr. with a little digital instead of a blue photo room with lights and X-marks-the-spot (proving that I chose the right dr.). "I'm sorry we have to do this," the doctor said, "but later on you will like to see how far you've come."
Indeed.

BUT OFFICER...

I know you all have been waiting with baited breath for an Update on the Exploits of Mom, so I thought I'd fill you in:

• The other day when my mom was driving down Colorado near Hampden (a busy road) her windshield got hit by a golf ball, which she saw coming at her, but, due to the traffic, was unable to maneuver away from. It hit right in front of her and shattered the glass, making it nearly impossible to see-- that didn't stop her from pulling a U-ie (I have never tried to spell that word) and zooming into the golf course parking lot, where she found a confused looking guy and confronted him: "Are you looking for your ball?! It hit my car!" (Note, this is the same car that was stolen from her house (by someone else) and from the body shop (by her). Luckily, the guy was contrite and paid for the damage, but geeze, if I'm trading in my boobs, she should get a new car already.
• Mom watched Liam Sun morning so we could help prepare for Carol & Larry's wedding (yeah them!!) On the way up to the ceremony, she got pulled over by a cop. (Note, my mom does not have a good history with this sort of situation) She told him she was speeding because she had to get a sick baby to an appointment (not a lie, really). The officer gave her a skeptical look-- until he looked in the backseat, and sweet liam, oxygen and all, started wailing (she didn't even have to pinch him). The cop let her go with a warning. Just think, if fuzz-head me was there, he would've given us a police escort.
• At the wedding, alexander was a dancing machine. His energy and enthusiasm were amazing and heartwarming. "Don't you love seeing him so happy?" I asked my mom. "I love seeing you so happy," she replied. I guess we never tire of seeing joy in our children.

INDEPENDENCE DAZE

I was bemused by all of the comments after my last post. I didn't realize I sounded so comparatively chipper. I'm reminded of before, when someone would say "Do you feel sick?" to which I'd respond, surprised, "Do I look sick?" (obviously...)
We had a wonderful time up in the mountains for the holiday. I LOVE fireworks... something about all the people around you not being able to contain their "oohs" and "ahs"-- but I have potentially traumatized xander forever (they're really LOUD in the mountains). Ah well.

Things to be happy about:

• This weekend liam was sick.... cough, drippy, all around miserable. I took him to the doctor and we were both psyched that it's just an ear infection and cold, a "normal kid illness"-- his breathing was fine throughout and some antibiotics cleared him right up.
• Sunday I wrestled with the kids all morning AND went on a hike and wasn't exhausted. I went to my last oncology appointment for 3 months last week. My CBC showed I was still quite anemic and needed another shot. Can you imagine how much energy I'll have when I'm not anemic?!
• In a nice karma circle, one of the wonderful women I've met through the blog's brother-in-law is a pulminologist where liam is getting tested, is on-duty that day can give us extra help if we need it. Yeah.

Physically, obviously, I'm doing great... other than the fact that let's just say I'm not at my most attractive stage. I look like a squishy, fuzz-headed, no eyebrow/eyelashes alien. (Did you know a lot of women, including me, actually gain weight on chemo? Isn't that insult to injury? Of course the fact that I took to heart the nurse's instructions to "eat whatever I want" didn't help...) As the doctors keep telling me (how is this for lame?) good thing I'm already married and have kids. Mentally, I'm torn between not wasting my "good month" and trying to prepare for this next surgery phase, which is quite frankly beginning to scare the crap out of me. There's some balance between denial and dwelling on it that I'm having trouble finding.

Way back in the beginning of this, I read a book that said women having mastectomies should take a bath and drink a glass of wine and say goodbye to their boobs-- that it is a real loss that requires reflection and acceptance. At the time (when I was just facing a lumpectomy) I thought it was a little ridiculous, and mostly just sad. Now I don't know what I think. On Monday, when we were back in the city, when we were going to sleep I heard booms and rushed outside to see if I could see... turns out we have a great view of above Coors Field from a few blocks away. As I watched the finale trying not to blink so I wouldn't miss anything, a random thought snuck into my brain: "this is my boobs' last fireworks."

But it's not my last fireworks-- and that, in the end, is all that matters.