[2023-07-24] One down and recovery day 17
Today, home healthcare nurse Iheoma called me even though it was her day off, as a follow-up to yesterday's visit. I gave her an update: the drain in my left breast was ready to come out, as yesterday I had reached the threshold of less than 20 mL of drainage per day for two consecutive days. She said she would try to get me an appointment at the community clinic today. Soon after, she called back to say that the clinic did not have any appointments but that a nurse was available to come to my house to remove the left drain. How wonderful. I told Iheoma that she lived up to her name: she personified goodness.
This afternoon, home healthcare nurse Tuite came to remove my left drain. She was sweet and efficient, as so many good nurses are. Ironically, just before Tuite arrived, I wondered whether it was, indeed, time to get that drain out. There's a certain comfort that comes with knowing that something designed to promote healing is still in place. I have never broken a limb, but I imagine that some patients feel this way when they have a cast removed.
The procedure of removing the drain did not feel painful as much as uncomfortable and a little bit weird. After sanitizing the drain site, Tuite clipped the sutures that were holding the tube in place. She asked me to take a deep breath in then exhale completely and hold my breath, after which she would pull out the drain. The extraction process lasted less than 5 seconds. I wasn't able to see how far into my body the tube had extended, but I imagine it was about 3 inches (7½ centimetres). The discomfort subsided within seconds. She then dressed the drain site, noting that it could continue to leak for another 1-3 days. She instructed me to change the dressing if it became damp.
The removal of my right drain is tentatively scheduled for Thursday. That gives a cushion of an extra day to reach two consecutive days of discharge below 20 mL per day. But even if I don't reach that milestone, the drain must be removed by Friday, since Dr. Cordeiro's assistant, Kate, had told me that drains are removed three weeks post-surgery regardless of the volume of drainage. This was consistent with what I read online, which stated that the risk of infection increases if drains remain in for more than three weeks.
Today was another low-energy day. I did manage to get out this morning for some grocery shopping with Chris, but other than that, I engaged in sedentary activities.
I had awoken last night with a dull ache at the drain site on my right breast. This the side that's given me the most challenges. I worried that I might have an infection, as the drain site had become a little red. So, of course, at 12:30 AM, I started googling and then pulled out the booklet that I had been given at the hospital regarding the care of drains. I took note of the instruction to notify my surgeon if I had increased areas of redness or swelling around the insertion site. I did. But how does one notify a surgeon in the middle of the night? The Women's Breast Health Centre at The Ottawa Hospital was, of course, closed. I wondered whether I should go to emergency.
I thought of my niece, the nurse. I calculated what time it was in her time zone (only 9:45 PM), so I texted: "Are you up? I may be having an issue with one of my drains." She called immediately. She asked whether I had a fever or chills (which was the first item on the list of reasons to notify my surgeon). Thankfully, I did not. I also didn't feel generally unwell, just uncomfortable at the drain site. I took pictures and sent them to her. Her sense was that I may have irritated the flesh around the drain site, either during the milking process yesterday or through simply going about my day. Her conclusion was that I did not need to go to an emergency. And, of course, she was right. By the morning, I was experiencing fewer aches. And nurse Tuite corroborated my niece's diagnosis. Tuite surmised that my bra was coming into contact with the drain site, so she applied a dressing to give my drain site some cushioning from the band around my sports bra.
I have always felt that nurses are angels. My niece has been a constant supporter, even from a distance. The nurses I met on the day of my surgery were awesome. All the nurses from the home healthcare organization that's been supporting me since the surgery (CBI Health home and community health services) have been wonderful.
Today, I wondered why I hadn't taken the same approach to recovery from surgery as I had to recovery from chemotherapy: welcoming the pyjama days. Perhaps the difference is that this surgery came in July, a month when I would normally be out enjoying the fine summer weather, going to Bluesfest, walking with family members, taking day trips with my daughter. By contrast, my chemotherapy treatment occurred between October and January, months when snuggling up on the couch or in bed seemed like a brilliant idea. So today I thought, "Why not welcome this period of downtime?" So I did lots of Duolingo, took a nap and continued work on my latest jigsaw puzzle.
I take comfort in knowing that when this period of healing is over, I will not need to do more treatment, such as chemotherapy and radiation, which I would have if I had developed breast cancer. I'm hopeful that, for me, cancer stops here.
