I, Wonder Woman

Finally, after 4 months I am able to sit down and write about what  was (I am claiming it) my last surgery. Honestly this one was so much more traumatic that all of my previous surgeries, so much so that I have avoided writing about it. There was no comical spin to put on it, and I still struggle finding  a positive spin ( other than the fact that I’m still alive).  Initially I was supposed to check in Friday, and be home by Monday, Tuesday the latest. I planned accordingly, making sure I did laundry, cleaned the house, arranged for childcare and pick up of my then 5 year old. In my  mind, I was thinking, nothing is as extreme as my previous surgery. That was 15 hours of surgery, this would be like 6, no more than 8. This was only my stomach, not my stomach and breasts. It would be a breeze, I was ready for it…or so I thought. My surgeon after all, told me she was the "Hernia Guru" and I love a confident women. I especially love that she showed up in a Wonder Woman surgical hat, and matching socks. Wonder woman is my ring tone, Wonder Woman is kick ass. We were gonna kick that hernia’s ass. And she reminded us of how Lucky a day it was 7/7/17 !!!! Then she started explaining things. As I heard the words epidural, catheter, my blood pressure shot up like 30 points on the monitor and I had to breathe it out. As afraid as I was there, was no turning back. 

My aunt took this picture as I tried to stay calm listening to the surgeon

The surgeon would make a vertical incision from the middle of my ribs to my pubic bone. In a procedure called component separation, she would cut muscles from my obliques on both sides, stretch them to build a new abdominal wall. Then, to secure the newly stitched wall,  attach a mesh all the way from my ribs to my hip bones before sealing me up. Below is a diagram.

Initially when I woke up, the pain was much more intense than what I thought it would be. So they drugged me up with Morphine, a few other narcotics that put me to sleep, but that was all they did. I was still in pain. They wanted me to ambulate, but I was in so much pain. When they allowed me to eat, I couldn’t because I was in too much pain. On top of that I had a fever for about 2 days.   On the 3^rd morning after my surgery, I attempted to give myself a sponge bath because I was tired of having people wipe my ass, and bathe me. I needed a new surgical binder that wasn’t stained with crusty blood. The pain was so excruciating that when my aunt (who thank God was also my nurse for the day) knocked on the bathroom door to ask how I was doing, I broke down into weak cry., a whimper. Boy, was it humbling to have my aunt, who used to change my diapers, have to bathe me…everywhere. 

She handled business and then an X-ray was ordered, and an enema… perhaps I was constipated (which is worsened by narcotics). While she set up my bed, I eased into the hospital chair. Suddenly I became overwhelmed with nausea and began violently vomiting bile. My aunt had to hold the bag, so I could support my stomach as it was jerking involuntarily.  Horrific pain. Apparently, I had an ileus, or what they call bowel obstruction. A serious one. It appears my digestive system had never fully awakened after surgery, which explained the reason oral medications were ineffective; they were not being digested. Everything was stuck in my stomach and esophagus. It made sense, I was swollen everywhere and my skin was clammy and discolored.

   Within the next 10 minutes my aunt was holding me down as another nurse stuffed a tube up my nose and into my throat while I gagged and cried. For the next 24 hours, the NG tube would pump my digestive track of everything and my stay at the hospital would be extended while my digestive functioning was observed. Which meant 24 hours of nothing, followed by 24 hours of liquids, and 24 hours on solids for a total of 3 more days.

Recovery at home was equally tough the first few days. Last time I had major surgery I had a live in partner who could help me. This time on I was my own with bathing (2 weeks before I took a real shower), letting things fall to the floor because I couldn’t pick them up, and the constant pinching of drains.  It was sleepless nights, and spells of helplessness The worst part was eating, because the peristalsis was excruciating, I felt like I could feel every bite of food work its way through my body for at least 2 days. 

check out the hernia through my dress.

                                   side angle of the hernia before surgery

              I found it so much more difficult to focus on the positive this time around. Yes the hernia was gone, but at that time it meant a shift in the type of pain I experienced. Because I feared any further intestinal problems, I rejected narcotics for pain management and stuck with ibuprofen and Tylenol. Ouch!

           

Over the last four months my body has been amazing all over again in regaining its strength and stamina. I’ve swallowed tears of frustration when I returned to my workout and couldn’t do anything, or I was so exhausted from jumping back into work, I’d get nauseous.  For a year and half I tried to cover this massive hernia, but now I’m trying to disguise my belly which now only looks about 4 months pregnant. It still feels tight and sore on extra busy days at work, and my ab power is severely diminished but I’m forcing myself to remain patient and remember that in due time, the swelling will decrease, the strength will increase, and while I’ll never be the same, I’ll feel confident in my physical appearance and power again. And if I’m lucky, one of these days I’ll see the lesson in all of this. I thought I mastered body gratitude, life gratitude, patience? Well, it's not mastered, but I've had many lessons. What do you think is the possible lesson? I Wonder.

Left top- hernia, Right top-1 week post op, bottom left- 2 weeks post op, bottom right- 2 months post op

4 Lessons from 2016

If I had to sum up this year for me in one word, it would be TRANSITION. 2016 was full of changes for me wrapped in lessons, successes and blessings. To start off with, I ended and 8 year relationship (not  BARACK OBAMA  though I am devastated) with someone who I was engaged to, lived with and had a child with.  This was difficult because my decision wasn’t based on something catastrophic, dramatic or scandalous. I didn’t catch him cheating, he didn’t hit me. I just realized that some of our beliefs were so inherently different it affected how we dealt with each other, parenting, goals and overall views on life.  At first I thought, what would everyone think…his family, my family, and the naysayers? But then I had to listen to my inner voice which loudly and repeatedly told me that  he was brought into my life for a reason and a season, but not meant to be my mate for a life time. Imagine trying to articulate that? This was at the beginning of the year, and still we are transitioning from cohabitating fiancés to co-parenting friends.

   The transition to living on my own after 6 years has actually been amazing. It’s given me the opportunity to really self-reflect and think , to take care of myself; to plan.  

 A few months ago, my oldest son told me I was going to be a grandmother in April 2017. This was like the official stamp on the end of an era. No ovaries, in menopause, I’m a grandmother before 40. This transition will be all about letting go and trusting that no matter what my baby will be more than okay, he’ll be great.  

 I also resigned from a leadership team at my day job and began a leadership program outside of my realm. Trying something new was easy; giving up something old was a difficult decision, but so worth it in the end. I was tired of fighting an unnecessary battle, one in which I was asked to go against the warrior and change agent I am.   

But instead of telling you ALLLLLL my business,  I’d like to summarize a few take aways from my last 361 days and hopefully they will speak to your spirit:

    1. Do not allow others to stifle who you are at the core. This includes friends, family, lovers, and employers. If you are asked to do something that is without a doubt contradictory to who you are a person, something that makes you feel guilty, strained, or at war with yourself- don’t do it. Life is too short to live with that type of inner turmoil. Be unabashedly, uniquely you.

    2.  F%CK WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK. PERIOD.  Don’t let other people’s fearful, judgmental ideologies dictate what you do.  Tell them to take their SHOULDS and shove ‘em.

    3.  Let go of the people and the things that don’t bring you joy. You can’t choose your family, but you can choose to love them from a distance. When you let go of the things that don’t make you happy, guess what happens…you get happy!

     4. STRETCH. Your thinking, your activities, your mind. Even if it’s a little bit at a time. Change is inevitable but  it is so much more enjoyable when you control it.

These steps are why, even though the devastation of losing Prince ( and OBAMA)  I was able to have an adventurous, happy and amazing transitional year.  What’s next for 2017? Stay tuned! 

Bittersweet Choices

   

     Even though I’m consumed with
 my dissertation, I am also

 preparing for the biggest, most complex surgery of my life; my mind and spirit are all over the place.  First off, I am beyond grateful that because of technology I am able to take steps to prevent the breast cancer that took my mother away at such a young age. But when I look at my toddler, I’m sad because my sister and I were so close to his age when she passed away. My baby is 3 ½ and he comes looking for me in the middle of the night. I couldn’t imagine not being there for him, and knowing that I was dying and wouldn’t get to see him grow up. My oldest son just graduated high school, and last week I took him to get his college ID. My mom missed that. My grandmother missed that. And so many other things in between. So lately I’m extra attached to both of them (even though the teen is totally not feeling mom). 

    Then I feel blessed again because it was my choice to wear 

my fabulous wigs, and to chop all my hair off, and it wasn’t the case for my grandmother. I remember coming home from school one day and she was sitting on the couch with a pile of hair in her lap. She explained to me that it was an effect of her chemo. Looking back, her wigs were in no way as beautiful as her once long dark hair.  And when it grew back, it looked a lot like mine does now, just gray. I have options, and it’s amazing, and it’s still scary and bittersweet.

      Then there's my mortality, something I struggled with so

much as a young person, so much that I refused to wear bandanna scarves because I remember my mother wearing them while she was in treatment. 

Now that older, and I’ve outlived my mother, it’s coming into a play again.  I’m going under the knife for 10 to 12 hours. YIKES!!! I’ll be in ICU;  in the hospital away from my baby for 5 days. I’ll have to look at my breasts without nipples or areolas for about 6 months. I will have a huge horizontal scar across my abdomen; I’ll try best to look at that with gratitude because I have a choice. That choice doesn’t involve radiation, chemo, or not being here to see my sons grow and evolve. I have a choice, but it doesn't mean I'm still not apprehensive.

Preparation

              I know I am 3 months over due, but happy New Year!

 Like I write in my new book, every day is new start! And my year has been off to a great start. Opportunity has not only been knocking on my door, but it’s been barging in and I am loving it. You know why? Because I’m constantly in a state of preparation and I rarely say no when someone presents an opportunity. One day a couple of weeks ago at  2:00 in the afternoon I got an email asking me to show up at a studio to record for 4. I showed up on time wearing one of my branding t-shirts and was ready to recite my poem for the camera. It’s moments like that fuel me when I’m feeling burned out or like things aren’t moving as quickly as I’d  wish.

            Not only is preparation key, but opportunity only comes where it’s welcomed. By this I mean, your attitude. So many people walk around full of misery and expecting the worst. Not me, I know I am meant for great things, and I appreciate the greatness that has already occurred. And if ever for a moment I forget to be an optimist and expecting, there’s always a reminder, and it’s never subtle (because the universe knows I don’t work like that.). Yesterday morning my sleep was interrupted by a televangelist, who I would never watch when awake. But his message was what I needed to hear, which is that you have to wake up EXPECTING and just how much power it releases when you do so. It woke me up and got me right back to work because this year, I’m definitely EXPECTING big things? What about you, what are you expecting?