I’ve always recovered from surgery quickly, possibly to do with the fact that I am a Virgo and like good order so give me a set of rules to follow, some do’s and dont’s, and I’m in my element especially when I get to see the positive results of my rule following.

This time was no different, I followed my post op advice to the letter taking things easy, doing my daily exercises as directed by the poster now hanging on the front of the fridge, monitoring the wounds to make sure they were healing ok and avoiding getting them wet which meant a week of baths rather than showers. I was pretty amazed at the neatness of the scar on my breast. Whilst it was a decent size at about 2 inches long, it looked as though someone had drawn it on using a fine felt tip and a ruler. Even at this early stage of healing it was barely noticeable and certainly isn’t going to be causing me any problems when I am back to wearing all those plunging necklines the breast surgeon seemed to be worried about!

My arm pit was a slightly less appealing sight. The scarring was pretty significant running the entire length of my arm pit and was very swollen to either side. In addition to that I had absolutely no sensation in the armpit, shoulder and the back of my arm. I was warned that would be the case but also told that the sensation should return in time. Having discussed this with a girlfriend who had similar surgery 7 years ago and still has no sensation back, I am not holding my breath. Looking at the positives, if you are going to loose sensation anywhere, your arm pit isn’t a bad candidate really. I don’t use it for much. Dan also reassured me that, the scarring in my arm pit was at least hidden and not visible until I raised my arm. The scarring should also improve with time. I remembered my c-section scar looking pretty gruesome to begin with but is now barely noticeable, or is it just barely noticeable to me because I have lived with it on my body for so many years?

The first couple of weeks post op went smoothly the pain lessened, my range of movement improved with the exercising and my stitches were removed. I started to experience something odd called ‘cording’ a strange sensation in your arm that feels as though someone has attached a tight cord from your wrist to your shoulder that restricts your arm movements. This was relieved slightly by the exercises creeping my arm slowly up a wall as far as I could reach. At my post op appointment with the breast consultant I was advised that the surgery had gone well, that they had achieved removal of the margin of tissue that they needed around the lump and that of the 28 lymph nodes they had removed only 2 were cancerous. I couldn’t get quite as excited about this as the consultant seemed to be. Great that only 2 of the 28 were defective but the fact that 26 nodes were fit and fell was little comfort given they were now in the bin rather than doing their quite important lymph node work in my armpit. This was of course great news, no need for any further surgery in relation to the lump, no more nodes to be removed and there was more visibility on the question of the spread to the nodes. The consultant was very pleased with the outcome and would see me again in 6 months to follow up.

Around the time of removing the stitches I started to notice a strange sensation in my arm pit which was odd considering I had no sensation in my arm pit. I felt as though I wasn’t able to hold my arm flat to the side of my body because something was in the way. On examination I realised that was because a pretty sizeable swelling had developed. I was advised over the phone by the breast care nurses that it was likely to be a seroma which I had been warned about. A seroma is basically a pocket of fluid that collects after surgery. Your body’s way of trying to fix a problem I guess and fill the hole that the surgery has left. I was advised to keep an eye on it and that my body should eventually realise that the fluid isn’t needed and start reabsorbing it into the surrounding tissue.

My body clearly wasn’t ready to stop trying to solve the problem of the missing lymph nodes and continued to send fluid to the site …… quite a lot of fluid. After another few days the lump in my arm pit was really quite huge, causing quite a lot of discomfort and bluntly just getting in the way. It felt as though I was carrying an apple around in my pit and was extremely uncomfortable at night when I was trying to get to sleep. I rang the nurses again with an update and they told me to come in.

I arrived at the hospital with my ever growing arm pit friend and the nurses took a look at me. As soon as they saw the size of the swelling I was given lots of sympathy and told immediately that they would drain it for me to relieve the discomfort. Oh god, I felt a bit queasy but I was so desperate for some relief from the discomfort that I hopped on the bed as directed without question whilst the nurse went to get the equipment she needed. She came back in with what looked like a trolly of torture implements including the biggest syringe I have ever seen. I asked her the one question that was concerning me “is this going to hurt?” She reminded me that my arm pit was completely numb so I wouldn’t feel a thing. Result!!

After removing my rather attractive post surgery bra and getting myself into an arm raised position on the side of the bed (my dignity has learned that it needs to take a back seat once in a while) the nurse inserted the 5 inch needle of the syringe into the middle of the swelling. I held my breath but miraculously no pain at all. She then began drawing off the fluid which was an amazing dark yellow colour, I was fascinated as the fluid just kept coming, 140 mls in the end. I was so fascinated by what I had witnessed that I asked the nurse if I could take a photo of the full syringe, she laughed and let me take a snap. One for the family album!

The relief was amazing and I could hold my arm flat to my body again. The nurse warned me that the swelling might continue for a little while but I could come back in if it got uncomfortable. She also gave me a small heart shaped pillow that she told me would make sleeping more comfortable. The pillow was heart shaped so it could slot under your arm with the dip at the top of the heart nestled into your arm pit. I couldn’t quite see how it would help but accepted it gratefully. Like the floral drain bag I had been given pre surgery it had clearly been made by a kind volunteer. The nurse told me that they are extremely popular and go like hot cakes when they come in. I tried it that night and it worked a treat, I’m not really sure how but it seemed to support my arm and keep it away from the wound somehow. Comfortable sleeping restored, hurrah!

Unfortunately my seroma friend wasn’t keen to call it a day after one draining session. It was almost as though the draining made him a bit mad and even more determined to fill the post surgery hole. The nurses had told me that there is much debate in the medical world as to the benefits of draining seromas or whether actually the removal of fluid encourages more to be produced but where the seroma is causing discomfort there is a balance to be reached. A few days after the hospital visit the ‘apple in my arm pit’ sensation retuned but very soon gave way to more of a grapefruit sensation. I put up with it as long as I could but eventually had to go back to hospital for another draining session. This cycle continued for a few weeks with the sensation progressing slowly but surely a small watermelon.

By the week before October half term the nurses had up scaled the syringe they were using and were drawing off multiple syringes full of fluid and having to deposit it in a measuring jug. The volume they were collecting increased with each visit hitting a massive 450mls at the peak! The nurse advised me that was the volume of a can of coke and that they rarely saw seromas this large in an armpit. Not exactly reassuring but I took it as an accolade of sorts. I did get some strange satisfaction from the fact that I seemed to be doing the whole seroma thing properly, no faffing about with small insignificant seromas, going large or going home! As pleased as I was to be crowned ‘queen of seromas’ by the breast care nurses, I was due to be going away to Norfolk (COVID rules permitting) for a much needed weeks break over half term so was keeping everything crossed that the seroma would finally give up its hole filling fight and accept defeat. I didn’t fancy the idea of driving backwards and forwards from Norfolk to get it drained.

Concern about the increasing size of my seroma was soon replaced with a new fear. I received my appointment to see the oncologist. I knew it was coming of course but receiving the call to confirm that appointment introduced a new focus for me. Chemotherapy, the next phase of my treatment and the part that I was most fearful of. I had read the leaflets that the breast care nurses gave me but that was it in terms of research. Unusual for me who would normally be all over the detail, I really didn’t want to know too much. My breast surgeon had given me the headline points, I would likely need 6 cycles, one every 3 weeks and I would loose my hair. Whilst I had the surgery to focus on I had been able to parcel up the limited chemo information I had in a locked box in my mind. Now the surgery was done and dusted I had to retrieve the box and open it up and that meant dealing with the fear that I had of chemotherapy, what it would do to me and how I would cope with it.