Planning Cancer Surgery

When you hear that you need surgery, all sorts of thoughts and memories cascade from your mind. Maybe you’ve had surgeries before. Maybe you’ve been in a recovery room or a waiting room for yourself or someone else. In any case, suddenly here you are again, but this time it’s major, and you know that ignoring or procrastinating is not an option. Moreover, if there’s anything you’ve ever done well or succeeded at in your life, you definitely want to ace this particular event. Big time.

First, let’s be honest about treatment options. To me, they all sounded terrible. Not one of them sounded easier or better than the others. They all had side effects, positives, and negatives. But they certainly were not more daunting than untreated cancer. Take the time and energy to evaluate everything until you finally feel confident and peaceful with a process that you can live with, literally.
What do you believe about surgery? Do you view it as a necessary evil? I get it, if you do. But here’s the deal. That mindset isn’t going to help you much. I had a lumpectomy the first time, but the second time, because the cancer had invaded a couple of lymph nodes, I chose a bilateral mastectomy. I was hoping they would be able to save the rest of my lymph nodes, but one sneaky lymph node had evaded all diagnostic tests. My surgeon saw it with her trained eyes and brain, and everyone on the team, including her, agreed it didn’t look all that suspicious, but she told the pathologist, “Let’s check it out anyway.” When the result came back positive, she called my oncologist, and they agreed to take the rest of the lymph nodes out. I don’t know how many times I’ve thanked God for my surgeon. My surgery was not evil at all. It saved my life and my future.
Be kind to your body. Prepare it well. I know this sounds a bit weird, but as I journeyed through two bouts with cancer surgeries, I learned to appreciate this incredible gift that God created, this “jar of clay” as the Scriptures call it, the human body. I’ve often heard that the body has a memory. Give it the compassion and respect it deserves. Also, targeted and moderate exercise might benefit you. Ask your surgeon for guidelines on how to best prepare your body. Finally, as silly as this might sound, sometimes I would just pat my body and tell myself how well it’s doing and how much I appreciate the wholeness I’ve had in the past and anticipate to enjoy in the future. Gratitude is healthy, and that’s an understatement.
Be honest. Be real. Be angry. Be scared. Be open. Be positive. Emotional preparation is as important as the physical and strategical plans. If you’re angry about the cancer, you are so incredibly normal. We all have to face that elusive stress monger called anger. It peeks in and out behind all sorts of disguises. Likewise, fear frequently uses the same modus operandi. But here’s the problem with restrained negativity. My clinic wrote in their patients’ manual that emotional release MUST happen during the treatment process. People who bury or ignore their emotions are much more likely to experience long and strong periods of depression post treatment. Wouldn’t you rather hit the road running when you’re all done with surgery and whatever else lands in your process? To reach that wonderful target, it’s imperative to sit down, take deep breaths, process thoughts, pray, read something that inspires you, talk to someone you trust, play music, ask yourself probing questions and dig deeply for truths that arm you with strength and determination.
Focus on you. This one’s tough for so many of us, but give yourself permission to make YOU your number one priority for a change. Surgery requires a ton of focus. Your job right now is to survive a nasty disease that has declared war on you. Go after it. People who love you are cheering for you, and usually they don’t want you to worry about them. It’s not only okay to devote your entire energy to your treatment, it’s needful for you to do so. You are in crisis, and it’s that simple, because cancer is that complicated. And now, here’s an especially hard sentence to write, because I’m a mom. I would have given anything, ANYTHING, to have spared my daughters and granddaughters the angst of watching me go through cancer. But, of course, that was impossible. I remember one night hesitating to share my thoughts with my younger daughter Shannon. She is a busy attorney and I didn’t want to “burden” her, but with her usual gracious kindness, she detected that I was holding back for her sake, and she said, “Mom, don’t leave me out of this. Please! I want to be a part of your process. Please don’t hold back from me.” I was trying to be considerate of her, but her love for me was greater than that, and she deserved my confidence and trust. She, in return, encouraged me to go ahead and be who I needed to be right then and do what I needed to do.
Plan the actual surgical day. Be prepared. Medical procedures do have parameters and basic ground rules. Find out what those things are so that you’re not dealing with unnecessary surprises on top of everything else that’s going on in your mind. For example, does your clinic allow your whole family to wait with you to go into the surgery? Mine only allowed one person. Also, I planned on taking a short walk in the morning before leaving for the hospital. I’m so glad I did that, because I love to walk, and it made me feel good to do something normal that I enjoy.
What’s the end goal? In another blog, I write about dreams. Dreams are good for you. How do you want all this to turn out? Even if your prognosis seems daunting, you can still aim for something wonderful to happen, something that would encourage you that it’s all worth it. Because, when it’s all said and done, beating cancer is worth it.

I am so grateful to God that I got to type that last sentence!