On Friday, I went into the hospital for my complete hysterectomy, which marks my umpteenth surgery. Honest to dog, I have lost count how many surgeries I have had. I know I am in the double digits, but I would have to put pen to paper to figure out just how many times I have had surgery. My friend Amy and I joke about how many times we’ve both had surgeries. I feel like I should have a punch card, and she thinks we should have a hospital wing named after us.

The gyn oncologist was able to complete the surgery laparoscopically, and now I have four new stab, er, surgery wounds. My abdomen honestly looks like an abstract work of art. Instead of brush strokes, it’s just scars, radiation burn, and stretch marks.

What message do you believe the artist is trying to convey?

Hmm, the message I’m receiving is surgery. Just a lot of surgery.

The gyn oncologist didn’t encounter any complications, and I got released after spending one sleepless night in the hospital. I can never ever ever sleep when I’m in the hospital. I ended up texting a friend on the West coast around 1:30 am in the morning, and then watching episodes of American Greed on CNBC.

I am now home recovering. I am not allowed to drive for two weeks, and I cannot lift anything more than 10 lbs for six weeks. My boyfriend has been taking great care of me, even though I know I am driving him crazy. I have a hard time relaxing and asking for help, so I putter around my 1st floor a lot instead of just laying down and relaxing.

I know sooner than later, I am going to start feeling the side effects of this surgery: mood changes, hot flashes, and fogginess. I am grateful I have ability to take time off work to recover from this surgery and adjust to this new normal for me. My managers at work have been absolute freaking fantastic toward me and what I am up against. Their support has taken a giant load off my shoulders, and they have made it crystal clear that my first priority should only be my health and recovery.

This week, I should be completing radiation simulation. What is radiation simulation, you may ask?

Positioning is extremely important in radiation therapy. Your body will be positioned carefully in order to get the best radiation treatment. You will be in the same position during every treatment, and you will have to remain still. To stabilize your position, you will probably be asked to lie in a special “immobilization device” on the treatment table.

There are different kinds of immobilization devices. Some look like a cradle; others look like a foam box that is shaped to your form. You will not be trapped or closed in. You may be asked to lie down in a custom-shaped mold that just touches your back and sides; or your treatment center may use a “breast board” that places your head, arm, and hand in a fixed position. Unfortunately, no padding can be used on the treatment table or positioning devices because that makes your treatment position less precise

https://www.breastcancer.org/treatment/radiation/types/ext/expect/simulation

Also this week, I have an appointment with my medical oncologist to discuss what AIs I will begin taking. Now that I have had my hysterectomy, this should make the discussion on what I can take a little easier. With AIs (aka Aromatase Inhibitors, or endocrine therapy), I am definitely going to experience side effects and this will require an adjustment for me.

None of this is going to be easy, and there will be tears and frustration. I cannot promise I am going to be the same Lara that I was before, but I will reach out for help when I am struggling. I may get angry and mourn the life that I used to have. It’s okay to not know what to say to me or how to act around me. I don’t know what to say or how to act either. This is new territory. I am not going to “beat” this, and I will be in treatment for cancer until the day I die. I am not a cancer survivor. Now, I just want to be a thriver.

I may not get up swinging, but I will do whatever I can just to get up.