Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Crossing My Rubicon

The kids and I were reading about Julius Caesar today and discussing where the phrase "crossing the Rubicon" comes from. I was trying to explain to Myles what exactly it meant.
I told him it was making a big decision........a major turning point in one's life where once you take that step there is no turning back.
I likened it to what I just went through..........what I am going through.
My journey starts waaaaaaay back in March of 2012............




I don't have many up close pictures, but if you'll notice I have a bit of a scab on my nose.
This kept recurring. It would take about two weeks to heal, and if I was lucky I'd have two weeks before it would return. If I was really lucky it would be four weeks, but if I was really unlucky it would be not even a week.
Chris and my best friend kept telling me to get it checked out. Well, I kept putting it off. Other things were more important, or I'd get busy and forget to call and make an appointment.
Finally in September I went in to see my doctor. She took one look at it and said "no way" she was going to touch it because of where it was, and I was given a referral to a dermatologist.
So October rolled around, the day before we left to go to Idaho, and I found myself in my wonderful dermatologists office. He took one look at it and said without even needing to biopsy it..........it was cancer.
The "C" word. That word. It had been buried in the back of my mind. I thought there might be some extremely remote possibility that that's what it could be, but I thought that possibility was like me winning the lottery. Oh wait, I did once actually win $5 from the California Lottery. Maybe that should have been my sign. I won't lie.............I bit my tongue so as not to cry. Swallowed the big lump in my throat and told myself this was no big deal because he said if cancer is what your going to get this is the kind to get. He proceeded to numb my nose and take the biopsy, and placed a bandage over it after taking a picture. It really wasn't that bad. I mean, it didn't look that great, but hey nothing a little band-aid can't cover up. There wasn't much pain except for scrubbing away the scab (which I was not to allow to form), and after several weeks I could take the band aid off. There was a small dent in my nose, and it was a bit discolored, but I kind of forgot about it.
Then came the results of the biopsy and an appointment with a Mohs Surgeon.
I went unprepared to the appointment, while Chris had done his research ala Google.
I will say that I totally broke down in the doctor's office. I pretty much thought it was going to be like another biopsy. Uhhhh, wrong. Chris tried to point out the silver linings............."the doctor paid you a compliment when she said your skin was so young and tight." Ah, yes, which makes it harder to hide anything because I don't have sagging and wrinkling skin. Poor guy really tried to help me  "Stay on the Sunny Side of the Street" but I felt like things were crumbling around me.
Well, I knew there was nothing to do but to make sure all of the cancer was removed. I mean, I could have chosen not to, but that seemed like a rather silly decision.
So, I waited for New Year's Eve. This was my "Crossing the Rubicon."
I'm so blessed...............I had lots of people praying for me, my name had been put on the Prayer Roll at the Temple, and even at other churches, and I had a blessing. My first and second counselors in my presidency were great about picking up the slack, and Chris made it clear I would be out of commission for two weeks at least.
I put my Pollyanna glasses on, crossed my Rubicon, and didn't look back.
I arrived at 8:15 am, and I was taken back, given an ever so nice warm blanket and then the fun began. I won't go into great detail............
My nose and cheek were numbed in several places. A slice was taken from my nose. I can't say how big it was, and not because I was out like a light. No, I got to be awake for the whole thing. But if I had to take a guess from what I could see, it was at least the size of a dime or nickel. Once that was done it was cauterized and a bandage put on. Then I was shuffled back to the waiting area where I sat in a leather recliner and watched Masterpiece Theater's Emma.
Good news, I didn't have to have anymore slices taken off. I had been warned it could be an all day event and several slices removed. This truly was a blessing and a miracle.
I was ushered back to a different room where I was numbed some more and the cutting began. Because such a portion had been removed, they now needed to move part of my cheek tissue over to my nose, as well as the skin of my cheek.And I have to say there isn't anything like being awake and listening to your cheek tissue getting sawed into, and stuff getting moved over, and skin getting clipped and cut, and getting stitched up. The numbing started to wear off at the end and they had to keep giving me boosts of the Lidocaine. Finally it was over. I sat up while they went to get Chris and now the pain began. I made it out to the waiting room with Chris's help and got some juice to take the pain medicine.
We stopped to get a chocolate milk shake on the way home, as I thought I surely deserved one for being such a trooper (the surgery teams' words).
I made it to bed and decided one pain pill was simply not enough, but apparently two was too much. And I'll leave it at that. Two days of trying two pills at a time, I decided getting sick wasn't a freak accident. I tried half, which really didn't do anything. By Friday I just decided to give up on the meds entirely because I had such a headache.
After a week of not lifting much of any of my fingers, as my sweetie did everything for me, I got my stitches out on Monday. Chris is generally a tough guy. He can eat spaghetti while watching brain surgery, but he was even cringing while they were taking the stitches out. I'm thinking it's just because I was having such a hard time with it, and being that I'm his sweetheart that was hard for him to watch. I had not looked at myself at all since the surgery except for nanosecond glances here and there when I was up to use the restroom. Chris did all my bandage changes and cleaning. Monday night I decided to look at all the pictures I had asked Aeva and Chris to take because I had known that I eventually would be ready and want to see what I had looked like and what my wound looked like. I'll say that I am glad I waited.
This is kind of my therapy. I won't put myself in the category of having a horrible diagnosis of cancer. I know that I am considerably lucky and blessed, that it could have been so much worse. But this is my therapy. I didn't think much about it, or tried not to in the months leading up to the surgery. I didn't want to dwell on it and I knew that compared to others, this was a piece of cake. However, I did realize that I had to give myself permission to grieve and to cry. I never asked why me or think it wasn't fair, but I won't pretend that I am not vain.........because I am even if it is just a little. I am not a drop dead gorgeous beauty, but I admit I did not want to lose my blemish free face. I mean I didn't want a big scar on my face. And yes, I can run and walk and see and hear and I am here living and am surrounded by my sweet precious family. In the end, I could not ask for more and I know they love me no matter what.
And in my low moments this past week, My Heavenly Father sent me tender mercies, ones that if I could only receive this way, then I would do it all again.
At the beginning I told Chris I'd rather have given birth to twins than go through this. In the middle of the week I contemplated whether I'd have done it if I really knew what it was going to be like. Now I can say I would do it all again because I did it. It was hard and not a lot of fun, but what I received by going through it I wouldn't change. It reminds me very much of the Hilary Week's song "Beautiful Heartbreak"................
Every fear, every doubt,
All the pain I went through;
Was the price that I paid to see this view;
And now that I'm here I would never trade...

The grace that I feel,
And the faith that I find;
Through the bitter-sweet tears,
And the sleepless nights;

I used to pray he'd take it all away,
But instead it became a beautiful heartbreak.

I don't really know what my face will end up looking like, but right now I'm okay. The cancer is gone, my incision is healing and I know that I have so many people who love me because of who I am on the inside and not how I look on the outside. I know who I am. I am a daughter of God. And that's good enough for me :)
 I've posted pictures, so if you aren't up to seeing them that's okay, you can come back next time :)

 This was taken a couple of days before surgery.
 This was several hours after surgery.
 Taken Tuesday, day two, and I couldn't open my right eye at all.
 Day three. I finally was up to taking a shower. Woohoo!
Time for a bandage change and cleaning of the incision.
 Day Four.
 Friday.
The swelling was going down and I wasn't so purple.

Monday.
The stitches came out.
Now I'm super glued and steri-stripped together.

Thank you to all who kept me in your thoughts and prayers. They were felt and appreciated so very much.