Seventy Three

Winter has flown past and as we move into February, the first signs of spring are fighting through the sleet. The snowdrops in my garden are poking their noses up and the daffs are trying to sprout. This always happens a bit earlier in London I guess the ground is warmer.

In November I had a meeting with my surgeon and two plastic surgeons. It was to discuss the rebuild of my left nipple. The process is relatively simple. A small shape is cut into the skin and then its restitched to create a small protrusion. Not unlike origami. When this heals, the colour will be tattooed on.

Whilst there, the plastic surgeons suggested I should also have some fat redistribution. My implants have a small amount of ridging where the fat would normally fill but as I am a classic British pear shape, I don't have any upper body fat. They wanted to liposuction fat from my upper thighs and pump it back into my breasts. Once I'd got over the shock of being offered such aspirational surgery on the nhs I started to give it some proper thought.

The results are unpredictable. The fat may not take and so the procedure would probably have to be repeated. So far so good! But the whole operation is very painful. I would have to wear spankx for a minimum of six weeks to reshape my thighs whilst they healed and would be left with scarring and possible skin dimpling. After a lot of thought I've decided against it. I just don't need to put myself through it. Plus I quite like my thighs how they are.

So the date was set for the nipple construction for the end of January.

The only thing holding me back was the non-movement of my white blood cells. Still languishing somewhere only slightly above neutropenia. Quite apart form the risk of infection and the reduction of my immune system I started to really worry about WHY they weren't getting better. I asked my GP who referred me to a haematologist in September (the appointment still hasn't come though in January!). I asked my Breast Care Nurse who didn't have any concrete answers for me and neither did my surgery team. So I started taking a guilty peek on line.

I spent months worrying about the possibility of Cancer in my blood or bones causing the lazy cells and no-one was confident enough to set me straight. Finally in the beginning of January I had a blood test with a more positive result. They are on the up. The operation could go ahead and I could stop that avenue of concern.

So after a few months of absence, January brought a flurry of hospital visits. I had my arm measured (OK) Blood taken (good) swabs and preassessment, pre op consultation and then finally on Wednesday I had my left nipple rebuilt. We had a frustrating morning of waiting at the hospital whilst appointments were shuffled around leading to my Husband having to cancel a very important work trip. I was supposed to be in at 7am and out by lunch time but I was pushed, last minute to the end of the list.

Eventually it was my turn. I was drawn all over with a navy blue sharpy and it was agreed where the nipple should go. Then I was taken into theatre. Having such an involved piece of surgery under local anaesthetic is daunting to say the least. The amount of pushing and pulling is enough to turn the strongest stomach. I tried to distract myself as best I could and took in the room. Not somewhere I normally get to see.

Before applying the dressing they offered me the option to have a look and of course I did. I have to say that although it was early days and there was quite a lot of blood and stitches, it actually looked like a nipple! I have to wait another ten days for my next viewing. That night, tucked up safely in my own bed and feeling groggy as hell, It hit me that after two years and four months, I have two nipples again. Another step to feeling more complete.

I have an Oncology review next Wednesday (4th feb). This is my annual check up with the Cancer Doctors. They will prod and poke me and ask lots of questions. I will tell them that the side effects of my Tamoxifen are horrible. That some days I have so little energy that I can hardly drag myself around the house. That, on the days after I have forgotten to take it, I feel like superwoman. They will listen and nod. I know I have no choice.

Hopefully I will leave with no further investigations booked until the next review. Then on the 9th Feb I have an appointment with the surgery team to remove my dressings and check my new nipple.

That's the medical update. From a diary point of view, Christmas was lovely. We did our usual tour of the families. Each celebration was perfect. Then we went to Cornwall and spent a very special few days with my Brother and Sister and all our families. It's possibly the first time we have ever spent New Years eve all together. We talked about Dad and missed him horribly. I realise now that missing him horribly is a constant. It never goes away.

We celebrated my Granny's 90th on New Year's day in Devon and after another idyllic 24hours in Cornwall we headed back to London to prepare for School and work.

I have been doing some work. A very gentle reintroduction. My God-Mother's son has a jewellery company and I have loved helping him out with various bits and bobs. Mainly I have loved spending time with him and his beautiful lady and their little girl. I have known him his whole life and they feel like family. I couldn't have hoped for a more perfect job.

Just before Christmas I was out at a friend's birthday celebration and I met a photographer who I had met in Bali about five years ago. I told him how I'd nearly got in touch with him in the middle of my treatment to see if he'd like to photograph someone with no hair, one breast, a multitude of scars, a port and various radiotherapy burns. At points I looked like a cross between an alien and a warrior. I never had the confidence or energy to go through with it in the end. He told me he would have loved to and that I should have got in touch. Then he suggested that it wasn't too late to start.

So last week, before my operation I went to his studio and he and his lovely assistant helped me to show off some of my scars. He has taken some very striking photographs. I have only seen them on the screen of the camera. Even that was quite emotional for me. I tend to avoid looking at myself naked these days, especially in a light or at an angle that would highlight my scars. He did the opposite. Every photo was lit and posed in a way to feature the parts of me that I try to ignore.

I'm looking forward to seeing the photographs and we are going to continue to document these important steps in the reconstruction process. I'm hoping that this will help me to see my patchwork quilt of a body in a more positive way.

It's strange that I've not written for so long. Now that I've started, I have so much to say. But it's Saturday, the children are bored of me ignoring them and I need to get out and walk the dog. I won't leave it so long next time.