As many of you know, breast surgery often results in a lost of sensation. I had a right side mastectomy. I would make sense that in removing all of that tissue that nerves would also be removed. Now my grasp of physiology is better than the average person, but by no means expert. What I can tell you, though is for nearly two years, I have had no sensation at all in the area where my right breast used to be.
This means feeling no pressure, no heat or cold, and although it is delicate to say, no sexual response. Actually, if I want to be really clear, there is no response at all. No affectionate response. No, ”ow, you just accidentally elbowed me in the boob” response. My husband could hold a hot coal to this breast and I would not feel it. No one warned me of this side effect but I had read about it myself. So prior to my second lumpectomy when my husband asked about whether a bilateral mastectomy was indicated, I responded by spelling out the implications for our love life. I had already completed a literature review on my risk of contra-lateral breast cancer, learned about the Gail Index and so forth. I knew that my estimated risk of cancer in my left breast was at a level low enough that I found personally acceptable.
In the last few months, I’ve noticed something. The numbness in my tissues has subsided to some point. I am starting to regain sensation, at least around the edges of my mastectomy site. But what I am feeling is the occasional itch. Sometimes it is deep down and unreachable. Most times it is on the surface of my skin. I am allergic to wheat and when I do eat it I get a flare of eczema within two days and it takes about two months to clear. If I cook all of my own food, this does not happen. But over vacation last August, I ate out, had a salad, and there must have been some wheat in the dressing because I am still waiting for my skin to clear. At one point, I could see that I had an eczema flare over my breasts. We also had family photos taken at the time. It looked like I had acne. Oh well. In any event, I could feel the itch of the eczema. However, when I scratched it, I felt no relief. As my internist told me when I described it to her, “That’s just not fair!” My rash, however, got worse.
In addition to itch, I have also had the return in a sensation that can only be called, “uncomfortable”. It is the mildest of pain, though still noticeable. And it is, again, felt around the edges of my mastectomy, which was performed in August of 2012. It would not be until March of 2013 that the major part of my breast reconstruction would be completed. I am no surgeon but in my own logic, it seems likely that more digging around and transplanting that occurs, the longer tissues take to heal or as my plastic surgeon describes it, “settle”.
I have numb parts. They are starting to awaken. To what extent they will awaken is unknown. But what I do know is that the awakening is uncomfortable and at times, a bit painful. This has called to mind the numbness that can happen to each of us emotionally and cognitively. I consider myself to be above average in self-awareness. However, I have neglected parts of myself, the parts that are numb. And numb parts get that way through damage, through loss of trust, emotional baggage, past trauma. Our mind protects us from many scary and lonely thoughts and feelings. The problem is, however, that it can do too good of a job.
Sometimes the parts of us that are most important, most in need of attention, are the parts that we just don’t think about or feel. The parts that are tired, afraid, and numb.
As you know, I have been digging deep and trying to feel what I need to feel and process it all through. It is a painful but productive process. In keeping with my mindfulness practices, I have tried to keep with my thoughts and feelings throughout. This has guided my decisions. At times, I move forward, full steam ahead. At other times, I take breaks. At these times, I catch my breath, assimilate new learning, and observe a new way of looking at my life.
There are parts of me that are coming alive. At this point, there is discomfort but I believe that in time there will be continued healing and awakening.
My Eyes Are Up Here 