Daily I am thankful that I do not have cancer. Daily. And I think I'm doing a decent job of not focusing on the possible return. I'm determined that is not how I will live my life.

But cancer, especially breast cancer, doesn't really seem to ever "end." I had my surgery in November. things went well. My extremely skilled plastic surgeon did some amazing work, filling out my reconstructed breast, reducing my natural breast, and created an amazing new "nipple" from my own skin. He must've been great at origami.

Recovery was going well for the most part. I had a few stubborn spots that simply wouldn't heal. In late December, I was encouraged by the team. I was told things were looking good, but most likely we were looking at another minor surgery. Fine. Seems like that's just part of my life these days, and each one gets me closer to the last one. My next appointment was about a month and a half later to discuss and schedule next steps.

During that time, I could literally feel, and hear, the injected fat being absorbed into my body. "Bloop bloop" every now and then. And, the range of motion in my arm had suddenly decreased and the pec muscle constantly hurt. I now had a lumpy, bumpy painful thing instead of a breast. My physical therapist worked hard to try to release scar tissue and loosen my pec muscle. While technically a massage twice a week, it was not peaceful. And, unfortunately it wasn't reducing the pain or increasing arm movement.

In my head, the surgery would be an easy fix. Simply put more fat in there, poke around and break up the hard spots and everything would be fine. That was my plan when I went to my appointment in February. However, when your generally happy plastic surgeon comes into the room, loses his smile, tilts his head one way, then the other, furrows his brow, throws his hands in the air and says, "what happened!?!?," it's a little scary. All I could say was, "You'll fix it?" And he, being an amazing surgeon, said "Of course." I relaxed. He said "We'll create a new flap from your back and tunnel it through and you'll be good to go." SAY WHAT, DR. SONG??? My jaw dropped. He said keep working with the PT to break up as much scar tissue as possible and try to get the arm moving and he'd do the rest. I was stunned. Stressed, worried, scared - all of it. The surgery needed to wait a bit to allow for the spots that were still not healing to heal, and so it was scheduled for April.

More physical therapy, constant but manageable pain, and growing fear that my arm would forever be restricted. When you're right-handed and can't lift your arm more than 90 degrees, it is incredibly frustrating.

I had the surgery last week - Friday, April 29. The surgeon told me my case had been nagging at him every day. Rarely do they see this amount of damage from radiation. Perhaps proton radiation is the cause. It's a theory and may be studied. He told me the pain in my pec muscle is from the pressure of fat necrosis settling in on top. He said he was going to fix it. And I trusted him and went to sleep.

I woke up with shocking pain in my back. It was the most intense pain I've felt immediately after surgery, because no nerve blockers this time. The fantastic post-op nurse stayed on top of it. My second thought was relief - I no longer felt the pressure on my pec muscle. A little more pain meds, and I was able to drift off again. She was able to control the pain, and we were able to head home a couple hours later. The surgeon told my sister it all went well, and it was the biggest fat necrosis he'd seen. Glad I continue to be an over-achiever! He also told my sister he was sure I'd be happy with the results - I hope so!

For now, I'm taking it easy, sleeping quite a bit. I have some time off work to help recuperate, and physical therapy will start again in just a couple of weeks. I already have more movement in my arm, but not allowed to push it quite yet. So I'll take the time. Heck, I finally get to binge watch Yellowstone and see what that's all about! One more surgery this fall to repeat what happened last fall - round things out, do origami magic for a new nipple, and pray that that takes care of it all.

Every cancer case has something that doesn't go smoothly. Again, I'm incredibly thankful that the cancer is gone. My roadblock was my body over-adapting and objecting to what had happened, and created its own roadblock. I've learned a lot about myself through this process, and it has changed me in some meaningful ways. I have more patience. I also have learned the necessity of listening to your own body. And so much more. And, I also have quite a bit more insomnia... so possibly more updates soon!. Writing is cathartic too!