Last Minute Hugs Before My Mastectomy

My surgery was this morning. Koen sat in the surgical waiting room while Arie walked back with me into the OR prep rooms. I looked on the board of the day's procedures and saw that most people were having minor surgeries, though it did stand out to me that there was one other person listed to have a bilateral mastectomy as well. I didn't think much more about it at the time.

The nurse took us back to my very own screened-off prep room where I was visited by numerous doctors, nurses, and hospital corpsmen. The air was thick with the sounds of medical jargon and the rapid movements of people on a mission. We were only the first group of the day to go under the knife and one could tell they intended to be on schedule.

A lovely man (who as it turns out spoke Japanese because his wife is from Kawasaki) stepped into my room with a soft expression on his face. This soft expression was repeated by each person I came into contact with during this whole prep phase. He was kind and informative, proceeding to explain the risks of anesthesia, as he was my anesthesiologist. He checked my airway for size and took some medical history. Accompanying him was a nurse. After placing my IV, which was quite pain-free might I add, they both stepped out. It turned out there would be a load of personnel attached to my case.

A moment later, three nurses stepped in. One was the assistant to my plastic surgeon, Dr. Honig. She was there to make marks on my breasts where the breast surgeons would need to make the incisions. I recall her name was Debbie and she wasn't happy that my "room" wasn't more private. The other two nurses held up a bed sheet behind me while she opened my gown and marked all over both breasts with a purple permanent marker. She finished quite quickly and was gone as swiftly as she'd arrived. I was alone again with Arie, not that we had much time to talk because there were many interruptions.

Next I was visited by Dr. Honig and two other doctors. His expressions were softer than when we'd first met. One of the other doctors appeared very stoic, the second kind and warm. His name was Zach and his looks reminded me slightly of my brother. His hand was soft and comforting and as he took my hand to shake it I felt sense that all was well with the world. He and the stoic doctor again held the bed sheet while Dr. Honig drew even more marks on my breasts in a different color of permanent marker. They too left as quickly as they'd arrived, leaving me feeling slightly like a road map.

Dr. Wilson finally arrived to answer any last questions we might have for her. She informed us that she and Dr. Early would be working in tandem to remove both breasts simultaneously so as to reduce the amount of time I would have to be under anesthesia. I would later be very glad for this consideration, as I had quite a difficult time coming out of anesthesia. I asked her with a chuckle if she had called dibs on any particular breast. She said that if one breast were cancer positive she would have taken that one, but since neither had cancer they would probably just flip a coin. After our brief conversation and a hug, she said she was stepping out to gather the team for a last minute briefing before my case.

It occurred to me how close I was to going through one of the hardest things I've ever done. Then suddenly, I recalled that Koen and I had agreed to give each other a bear hug before my surgery, since it might be the last one we would have for awhile. I asked Arie go get him and sneak him into my room so that I could hug him. He disappeared and quickly returned with Koen in tow. I saw their feet under my curtain before they appeared. It was funny how just seeing Koen's shoes gave me comfort. He stepped in with a smile and immediately came to me for a hug. I said, "We almost forgot." I hugged him like I've never hugged him before and suddenly wanted to cry - and I did. I knew there wasn't much time left. I hugged Arie too, quietly crying before my stoicism began to set in.

Koen stepped out with Arie when I asked him to find me a piece of paper and my pen so I could jot down a few thoughts before they took me back. He arrived with the paper and my pen and I was just beginning to formulate some thoughts when the anesthesiologist came back to give me a shot of "something to relax me" through my IV. Arie gave me one last hug and left to collect Koen so they could go swimming. At my insistence, they were not going to sit in the surgical waiting room wasting four hours of a beautiful day, so I sent them off for breakfast and a trip to the pool. I recall thinking that I'd better hurry and make notes while I still had a moment alone. No sooner did I pick up paper and pen than the curtain was drawn back and they said they were ready. The last thing I recall was putting my paper and pen on my lap, thinking even then that was a bad decision since they'd likely be gone when I awoke. Of all the things I could lament at a moment like this, it was the loss of my pen and paper - and as the voices faded away, I never felt the bed move. There was no turning back. I was on my way.