{a talk with the big guy}

I've been avoiding writing this blog because I feared that so many people will think I am a total freak about my performance in the gym. Rightfully so, perhaps. But, then I ran into a friend of mine that I met at our gym, but she moved away last Fall. She told me she thought I should blog about this because it may give encouragement to someone else who might be in the same shoes. For somebody to see that I am taking this head one and despite my struggles, frustrations and what I have been through I am going to work hard and fight my way back to where I was before. She told me she has always had great admiration for me. On a tough day, that was nice to hear so with her encouraging words ringing in my ear I decided to tackle this post. I started this blog to tell exactly how I am feeling and working through my process of becoming cancer free and recovery. I'm now cancer free, so that leaves me on the recovery side. My personal struggles aren't over so to help empty my head of them and to help me collect my thoughts, I blog.

If you read my blog you know that our gym is a serious happy place for me. There have been many times I have been having a bad day and all I want to do is get to the gym to be around my fellow CrossFit peeps, bust out a workout because during that one hour your body doesn't have the ability to think about anything except self-preservation. Survival. Victory. Victory over a workout that feels like it is going to crush you and very well might if you don't keep pushing through. Every workout ends with a slight feeling of euphoria and a silent little fist pump once you have peeled your weary body off the floor.

This used to be a CrossFit workout for me. Anxiety of what lies ahead or excitement of what lies ahead. It all depends on what the workout of the day is. Anxiety="Fran", thrusters, wall balls, burpees, rowing. Excitement=Overhead squats, cleans, snatch work, double unders, "Annie", pullups, running. After the workout it was satisfaction and excitement of how strong my body has become. I take my physical fitness seriously. Many people think I probably take it too seriously. Maybe I do, but I have one body but to take me through this lifetime and I plan to keep it as healthy as possible. Honestly, disease scares me and rightfully so as I have recently discovered. Like I said, this used to be a CrossFit workout for me. Not anymore. It hasn't been for awhile. Once I was diagnosed my drive in the gym quickly deteriorated. Between diagnosis and surgery I couldn't function. Mental stress does awful things to your body. It wore on me. It made my limbs feel like they were filled with lead. I couldn't push. I couldn't make myself go hard. I was sluggish at best. Frankly, I didn't care. Part of me knew I had to push hard to gain as much strength as possible before being restricted and was held back while I recovered. But, there was a stupid part of my brain that was like, "What's the point? You're going to be laid up and not be able to do much for a while anyways. You'll lose that strength anyways." That's the stupid "glass is half empty part of my brain" that I am trying so hard to lobotomize. Two weeks post bilateral mastectomy and reconstructive surgery I walked back into the gym . I was thrilled! I was happy to do whatever my body and motified-movements allowed. That excitement quickly slipped away from me as I stood amongst my friends and fellow athletes and watched them warm up doing the most basic of movements in our gym and I couldn't even do that. There were times that the only thing on the warm up board that I could do was the hip mobility exercises. No shoulder work, no push ups, no pull ups, no box jumps, no GHDs, no jumping rope, etc. I got to a point where I had to make myself go the the gym because I knew I needed to keep my body as strong as possible with my limited movements, aka squats, squats, squats of all kinds. There were many times I sat in the parking lot for ten minutes trying to decide if I was going to go in. Texts to my hubby, "I don't want to go in. :(". One time I drove into the parking lot, turned off my car, started my car back up and left. I hated my limitations. I hated doing them in the gym with everybody around me doing the actual workout. I hated that this bothered me so much, but I couldn't make it go away. There came a beautiful day before my six weeks of restrictions were up that I could front squats. We did a 5x5 Front squat workout. I couldn't pick the bar up with my hands because I couldn't lift more than five pounds, but we were squatting out of squat racks. The bars were in racks so all I had to do was get under it, rack position, elbows high and set on my shoulders and stand up with it. First I did it with a 15 pound PVC pipe filled with sand. Then I asked Coach if he thought I could try the 30 lb. bar. He said "yes" and grabbed the bar for me and put it in the rack. Next he grabbed the 45 lb. bar. My last set was 65#. I finished, put my arms on the bar, laid my head on my arms and cried. Much like I am doing right now as I write this.

I wish I could put into words why this is so emotional to me. I'm a stay-at-home mom. I take care of my house (well, kinda. :) My hubby may hesitate a bit before agreeing. lol), raise my kids and I get the leftovers of everybody else's schedules. There isn't much "me" time left in a day for a mom. I don't have much of anything to call my own. I have never had a career. I have always said that working out is my part-time job. I have always put a lot of effort, time and devotion into it. Many times I work my schedule around my workouts. My diet supports my fitness. If I am out with friends I won't have a drink if I know I have a hard workout in the morning. Most people don't get this and I get grief from friends for not having a drink on many occasions. I know how that drink will make my workout feel the next day and I only have one hour in the gym each day to do my body good. That leaves 23 hours to totally screw up that one hour. Fitness is MY thing. Fitness is something I feel I am good at. I know women who scrapbook all day because they love it. My husband would golf all day if he could. I have friends who would garden, read books or ride horses all day if possible. If you took those loves, those hobbies, away from these people they would be heart broken. That's what CrossFit is for me. I love it. It's my "hobby". It makes me feel good. It is something I can succeed at. Yes, maybe I am obsessed, but seriously couldn't there be worse things to be obsessed with? So, in my process of recovering from my surgeries I have lost a lot of my hobby. I've lost the ability to do my hobby. I've lost a lot of what I love and it breaks my heart. Honestly, it reduces me to tears often. Right now I can't workout for six weeks, well, four and a half weeks now. (Wow! I'm happy to say the last week and a half flew by! Thank goodness.) I haven't been wanting to go back to the gym. I was thinking about just starting to run again. I told Tony I want to get some equipment for our garage so I can workout at home instead. Okay, fine. I'm running away. I'm running away from daily frustration of not being able to do everything. I'm avoiding the pain of walking into the gym and physically not being able to do what I used to, what I WANT to do. I watch everybody else doing movements that I know my body can do, but right now as my body pulls itself back together it won't let me. Again, my biggest obstacle is patience. I don't want to feel like I am starting over. I don't want to wait and wait and wait until the scar tissue in my chest doesn't feel like it is going to rip apart when I do assisted ring dips or push ups. I don't want to do one clean and feel my legs on fire because my muscle endurance has gone South. I don't want to do a couple pull ups and drop off the bar because I've lost so much upper body strength that I can't hold on anymore and my chest starts to feel like it is pulling away from my rib cage. I don't want to do ring dips and feel my pec muscles contract and compress my implants. I don't want to be aware of everything that has been done to my body when I am in the gym. I want the gym to be my escape. So now...now in my frustration and lack of desire to return to the gym I have to find a way to harness all that I don't want to do and all that I dislike and turn that energy around and use it to my benefit. What do I always say when I am cheering on a fellow athlete? "Dig deep!" Or my favorite phrase of Coach B's, "You got this!" Or my personal motivator that I say to myself at the gym, "The strength to rise." "The strength to rise, the strength to rise, the strength to rise" over and over in my head.

I stopped by the gym yesterday during the mid-morning class and then stuck around to chat with Coach B. One and a half hours I stood there and talked to one of my biggest cheerleaders and one of my most favorite people on this earth. It was wonderful. It was what I needed. What we both needed. We both talked and talked. We talked about the gym, he told me some great stories about his childhood, we talked about coaching stuff, etc. Then I told him that I'm not wanting to come back to the gym and I started to cry. He said, "That's all right." I told him how great it is to see all of our athletes making this upward climb as everybody is getting so strong, but at the same time is so hard to watch everybody go up while right now I am going the opposite direction. On a line graph in my head where everybody else is and where I am seems a great distance apart and a long way to go. He told me it will be a good thing. It will be a good thing to work hard through this and come back strong and the great thing is we know how to get me there. I will set goals for myself and I will make small progress and small progress and small progress and then I will make huge progress. Then small progress and small progress and small progress and then I will make huge progress. A steady pattern of this. He said the great thing is so many people will be watching me. When I accomplish something these people will see it and cheer me on. It will be motivation. I said it is pressure. He came right back with, "Don't look at it that way." Basically, I have so many people pulling for me. The only person putting pressure on me is myself. Coach told me I can use this for good. It's all about helping people. I can use my struggles to encourage people who may be struggling with similar things in the gym. I hope this never happens, but maybe one unfortunate day somebody else in our gym may find out their body has been struck by disease. When their body won't let them work out because they are burdened with worry and fear. When they are frustrated with their limitations when they know their body can do more. When they don't want to step back into the gym because the road back to "before" feels too long and daunting. I can stand beside them, give them a hug and just say, "I know", because I do.

{stage two reconstruction}

Stage Two Reconstruction. That's what they called it at my plastic surgeon's office. This Monday at 8:00 a.m. I underwent Stage 2 of my reconstruction. Bilateral Breast Revision and Nipple Reconstruction to be exact. Quoting my girlfriend in a text last week, "Yay! Nipples!" Yay, indeed! Last Tuesday I had a busy morning of pre-op appointments to get ready for my surgery. I started at Northwest Hospital in Whitefish. What a beautiful hospital and like the sweet, elderly lady volunteering at the help desk said, "It's a beautiful hospital that doesn't have that 'clinic" feel to it." I also had a great little conversation with said sweet, elderly lady that I can't do any justice to via typing about the food at the hospital. As she was walking me to where I needed to be she said, "Oh! And the ca-fe (with the "a" pronounced like the "u" in under)!" (While she said this she lifted her hands a little toward the sky and looked up as if looking to the sweet vision of heaven) "Not, a cafeteria, a ca-fe. Oh, and Mondays! Mondays they make (she paused here and turned to me with a little look like "waaaaait for iiiiiitttt")...quiche! I wish everyday was Monday!" It was awesome! It took everything I had not to giggle at her enthusiasm. :) It definitely made me want to drive up to the hospital on a Monday to have quiche for breakfast! The registration process was pretty straight forward, but I found myself thinking how much nicer it was than my pre-op at the hospital in Kalispell. There was nothing "bad" about the one in Kalispell, but it was very "clinic" and impersonal. At the hospital in Whitefish the lady that registered me and the nurse that spoke with me were so friendly, kind and warm. At the end of my appointment the nurse gave me a huge hug and wished me well with my surgery.

With four minutes to spare I dashed out the door and headed to my appointment with my plastic surgeon, Dr. Nargi. Luckily her office is only three minutes away. :) The purpose of this visit was to make a plan for what "tweaks" she is going to make to my breasts to appear "normal" and symmetrical. The goal is for them to look pretty close to the same. So she said she would lower the left breast a little because it sat a little higher and she would loosen up the outer, lower corner of the right breast so it would "hang" more naturally. She said it was "bunchy". I have not idea what that means, but I took her word for it. :) She asked me if there was anything that I saw that I wanted to look different. She had mentioned that I could change implant shape to change the shape of my breasts a little bit. Keep the size, but change the shape. I didn't like how they were very round and the line of the implant around the top was very visible. I know I'm not fooling anybody, it is obvious I now have fake boobs, but, I was hoping they could be softened up somehow. So I asked if changing the implant shape would soften them and she said, "Unfortunately, no, BUT I can take fat from another part of your body...whah...whah...whah...whah..." All I heard was "I can take fat from another part of your body..." YES!!! Do that! :-) What she said was she could take fat from another part of my body and redistribute it around my breasts to soften them up and to create more of a natural looking "sag". So she lifted up my shirt and said lets see where we can take it from. So she looked at my small three pregnancy mom "pooch" that was about a 5-6 inch "circle". . . Before you start dissing me... I don't care WHO you are, if your belly has been stretched to it's max three times with pregnancies there is something about your stomach you don't like and this is what I have never liked...back to my doctor... So she looked at my little tummy stuff that I don't like and she said, "I can take some from here. You know what? I can just get rid of that! You know what? I'm going to do you a favor because you deserve it. You have those two small hernias that you want fixed, I am going to fix those and suture your abdominal muscles back together (they separated with one of my pregnancies) and make your belly button an "inny" again. I am also going to get rid of this." "This" being a couple of small pockets of fat above my pelvic bones on my sides. She said, "it is mostly muscle there, but there is some fat there and I am going to get rid of it!" Ummmm, OK! Do it! Do it all! She told me I already had one surgery I didn't want I should have one I want. YES! Yes, please and thank you SO much! The benefits of having a great relationship and having made a connection with your plastic surgeon. :)

So, Monday morning with the kids sleeping at my dad's and given the okay to miss school to eliminate morning chaos for my dad, Tony and I head to Whitefish at 6:00 a.m. for my 8:00 surgery. I had an IV put in (which always grosses me out), I got a fifteen minute neck and shoulder massage by resident massage therapist Johnny Ray, and my surgeon drew all over me with a purple marker as a guide to what she was going to do in surgery. Anybody out there a Nip/Tuck fan? I had a vision of Dr. Christian Troy drawing all over a woman with a tube of lipstick showing all the parts of her body that needed "fixed". I had no problem being all marked up, but did have to hold in my giggles thinking about being marked up with a tube of lipstick. Hee-Hee. The marker was far more professional!

Shortly after being marked up for surgery the anesthesiologist came in and said they were ready and he was going to give me something to relax and it works pretty fast. I hurried and gave Tony a kiss and said, "Oh! There it is!" as my vision started to get fuzzy. That is the last I remember before struggling to wake up back in my "bay". I swear there is nothing worse than coming out of an anesthesia induced sleep. Yuck. Yuck. Yuck! My body is totally uncomfortable, I can't make sense of anything, I struggle to speak coherently, I was roasting, I am nauseous and just feel downright crappy. I did go into this surgery knowing they were going to do what they could to alleviate some nausea because they were informed of how horribly sick I was after my last surgery. So even though my surgery was longer and I did feel nauseous after I wasn't near as sick as I was last time and it was pretty much 100% gone by the time I got home and slept for a few hours. I took a few doses of the anti-nausea drugs they gave me and then stopped taking them because I was feeling fine. Last time I was nauseous for about a week after. I have a different pain killer this time that isn't making me sick at all. Mental note to self for the future!

Considering I just had a 6 1/2 hour surgery on Monday I am feeling pretty good. I have very little pain or discomfort in my chest. Pretty much all of my pain comes from the lipo (I can't believe I had lipo done. Truly weird.) that was done to harvest fat to redistribute around my breasts. I am sore and swollen from my pubic bone almost up to my bra chest band, around my sides and into my back. You don't realize that everything you do uses your ab muscles to some extent. Trying to lay down and get back up is probably the worst. When I am tired I have to psych myself up to laying down because I know it is going to hurt something fierce! Ouch! But, again, I am amazed at the healing powers of the human body. Just 48 hours after the start of surgery and I can already tell that my body is feeling a little better and is slightly less sore. I am able to move around and unfortunately am able to do tiny bits of helping around the house. lol ;-) I had hoped to milk that a lot longer, but I feel too guilty. I told Tony this morning that I couldn't wait for all of them to leave for school and work so I could not feel guilty and go back and sit down and rest. haha! Don't worry, I am getting plenty of rest, but it does feel good to still be able to get up and down enough to help a bit. My stomach actually feels a bit better when I am standing so I stand at our bed and fold clothes. It's a little something to give Tony a hand. He is such an amazing man and husband. He handles the household splendidly on his own (much better than I do!!) and does all he can to take care of me and make sure I am comfortable. He is definitely a keeper! :) My dad has also been a wonderful help like he always is. He gives Tony a hand getting the kids to school and with picking them up if needed. Him being home to help with the kids the day of my surgery was the biggest help of all. It is nice to not have to worry about the kids and know they are being well taken care of and are enjoying a day at Grandpa's. I expect there was a little spoiling going on at Grandpa's on Monday. :) As it should be!

So that is the rundown of my 2nd Stage Reconstruction surgery. The plan is that this is my last unless something really doesn't look right with my breasts, but I really don't want to have surgery again so I think I can live with any little things that aren't quite even. Now the fun begins. Shopping for new summer tops and swimsuits! Watch out summer! Here I come! :)

Thank you to those of you that have sent well wishes, prayers and beautiful flowers my way for this final stage (hopefully) of my road to being whole again. We have so much love for our friends and family. You have made this unexpected journey in my life much easier!