8 Weeks Post-Op + Survivorship

I’m officially 8 weeks post-op from my reconstruction surgery! It's hard to know where to begin with this update but maybe it will be helpful to walk through the day of surgery and how recovery has been. 

Surgery Day (April 7)

My check-in time for surgery was 6:00 AM in downtown Seattle. The care team at Virginia Mason prepped me, and I met with my surgeon to go over the plan for my DIEP flap reconstruction. We agreed on a backup plan: if anything went awry with the tissue or blood vessel transfer, we’d move forward with implants. Then he had me stand while he made his surgical markings on my tummy. I was rolled into surgery around 7:30 AM.

The play-by-play

Here is a summarized version of everything that took place during the 9.5 hours I was in surgery: 

• Removed both tissue expanders from my chest (these were placed after my mastectomy)

• Removed my chemo port from the right side of my chest

• Carefully dissected and lifted tissue from my lower abdomen (this is the “flap”) including important blood vessels and nerves

• Shaped that abdominal tissue into two new breasts

• Connected tiny blood vessels from my abdomen to my chest under a microscope to restore blood flow (microsurgery)

• Reconnected sensory nerves to try to restore some feeling to my breasts

• Removed part of a rib cartilage to access vessels for connection

• Transferred and reshaped my belly button to a new spot on my tummy

• Contoured the flaps to match my body and look more natural

• Placed surgical drains in both breasts and my abdomen

• Closed all incisions in my chest and belly

It was a long, complex surgery but everything went smoothly and according to plan. Afterward, I stayed in the hospital for monitoring. The first night was spent on the progressive floor, where nurses checked on me every hour to make sure everything was progressing without issue—especially the blood vessels that had been transferred. If those vessels failed, the new breast tissue wouldn’t survive, and I’d be facing major complications.

To monitor the blood flow, the surgeons had placed two small wires inside my body near the new vessels, with metal tips sticking out of the bottom of my new breasts. Nurses would come in, hook the wires up to a Doppler machine, and listen for a telltale “whoosh, whoosh—whoosh, whoosh” sound. That sound meant my blood was flowing properly and my body was doing exactly what it needed to do. By the afternoon of the next day, they had me sitting up and helped me out of bed to eat and use the restroom. It was slow and a little surreal, but getting up was a huge milestone. Once I was stable, I was transferred from the progressive floor to a regular unit, where the monitoring shifted to every four hours instead of every hour. My doctor came to visit me the evening of day two and told me everything had gone really well. He said I had a six-pack of abs under my stomach tissue (hell yeah), and that I was basically a perfect candidate for this surgery. He even said this might end up being one of his best outcomes yet (double hell yeah). Not bad for a body that’s been through hell and back.

Typically, DIEP flap patients stay in the hospital for three days—but I was healing so well they released me after just two. Once Jeremy got me home, we set up a fortress of pillows on the bed and couch, and that’s when the real road to recovery began.

Recovery 

One thing they didn’t tell me beforehand: I had to be injected with a blood thinner every day for 30 days. Bless Jeremy, who took on that responsibility, along with basically everything else. Food, showers, and endless reassurance every time I pointed at a bruise or incision and asked, “DOES THIS LOOK OK?!”

The first couple of weeks at home were mostly spent in bed or on the couch. I could get up to use the restroom, and after a few days, I started slowly increasing my walking—first around the house, then out to the yard, and eventually down the street to the corner and back. All of that required major assistance from J. Walking made my back spasm, my energy tanked quickly, and the vulnerability was really real.

I remember hitting day 10 and thinking, "Wow. This is a lot to go through… all for some boobs."

My post-op appointment was about two weeks after surgery, and my doctor said everything looked like it was healing perfectly. At that visit, they removed all the surgical dressings and pulled out the wires that had been used to monitor blood flow. One of them actually broke off on the way out – which, apparently, is fairly common. So now I’ve got a little wire permanently chilling inside my chest. A tiny metal memento for my troubles. We also scheduled my (hopefully final) corrective surgery for November 10. That one will be much simpler—about two hours instead of 9.5. It’ll involve refining the shape of my breasts, creating nipples, and possibly doing some fat transfer to even things out. Just the finishing touches.

Now, with every passing week, I’m getting more mobile. I’m going on long walks daily and—let’s be honest—probably doing more than I should in the garden when it comes to bending and lifting. I won’t be cleared for any “meaningful workouts” until I hit 12 weeks post-op, which means July will (finally) be my return to yoga and teaching barre. Now that my energy is coming back and I feel more capable, it’s definitely tough to hold back—but I know pacing myself is part of healing, too. 

Survivorship

I remember how badly I wanted to get to this point once I knew a double mastectomy was in my future. I just so badly wanted to hurry up and get to “the end.” But what I’m realizing now is that the end of physical treatment and reconstruction is really just the beginning — of the mental and emotional processing, of piecing together everything I’ve been through over the last 17ish months, and of navigating what they call survivorship. 

As I approach my final form, I find myself grappling with what I’ve lost and beginning to truly acknowledge and navigate this changed body I now live in. Up until this point, every physical change felt temporary. I kept my eyes forward, pushing through what had to be done. But now, the reality starts to settle in. My OG breasts and nipples are gone. My periods are back, but irregular, and there’s no guarantee they’ll stick around. My tummy and hips feel and look different. My new breasts are unfinished and still taking shape. I’m trying to rediscover who I am in this changed body, while also trying to return to the life and relationships I couldn’t fully show up for while in survival mode.

I know I’m different now. I can feel it. But I don’t yet fully understand how, or what that means, or when this rollercoaster of emotions will finally level out.  

That said, this reconstruction surgery does feel like an end of sorts. Up to now, there was always another big mountain to climb after every milestone I summited. One more surgery, one more recovery, one more thing to endure. I finally feel like I have something to celebrate - to enjoy, exhale, and embrace this life I am still able to live. 

My birthday is on June 7th and last year during this time I was in the final throws of Chemotherapy. This birthday feels like a victory, so we’ll party.

If you're still with me, reading all these words —thank you will never do justice in expressing how grateful and thankful I am to have your attention, your well wishes, all the love and vibes you continue to share with me. It all matters so much. The tears on my cheeks as I write this are just the smallest evidence of what your care has meant to me. I will spend this lifetime and the next sharing my thanks and paying it forward in one way or another.

This ride isn’t over, so I’m sure there’s more to come - more healing, more feels, more figuring it out as I go.

So, until next time - 

V

2 weeks Post-Op

My Care Team

Nurse Boo & Pillows

Very simple example of DIEP Flap Procedure