Chapter 3
Recovery, Reality & Results
Hover To See Photo Of
Post Surgery Dressings, Bruising And Blood Loss
The First Few Days
My throat was so sore, and I couldn’t stop coughing. I watch medical dramas all the time, but it hadn’t dawned on me that I would have had a tube down my throat during surgery. That’s why it hurt so much. Jelly and ice cream quickly became my best friends!
I came home on the 18th of January, brought back by my husband. I haven’t mentioned him much yet, but he’s been my absolute rock through all of this. I honestly couldn’t imagine doing it the other way around. I love him so much for being right by my side every step of the way. He just says, “In sickness and in health, remember?”
The one thing on my mind was that our son was turning 16 in just two days, and we were throwing a party at home. I’d already sorted the decorations and food before surgery, so everything was ready. Helping to prepare for the party was exhausting - but so worth it.
I was allowed to shower as long as my drain and battery packs didn’t get wet. That’s why the tubes are so long - you can hang them outside the cubicle. It was surreal to be showering while attached to something resting on a stool. Eventually, I found it easier to wash down with a face cloth, and every few days, my husband helped me wash my hair over the sink.
Two days after surgery, a district nurse came to our house to remove my drain. On the 25th, my PICO dressing came off. That glue was not messing about - it did not want to come off! We went to Oldham’s Breast Clinic, where the nurse was so gentle. That was the first time anyone had seen my surgical scars. They didn’t look like mine. The area was completely numb - not from medication, just... numb. I couldn’t get my head around it.
I had new dressings put on and was told to rest for a week until our next appointment with the consultant.
Hover To See Photo Of My Boobs With Post Surgery Dressings Off
& First Look At Scars
Hover To See Photo Of
Infection On Scarring Of My Boob
Two Weeks Post Op (Operation)
This day turned out to be more significant than I realised at the time - it was the appointment where I’d find out if they had “got it all”.
Back in the same waiting room where it all started. Same pink gown. Same nerves. That room is always so triggering. Sitting and waiting for the consultant to come through that side door never gets easier.
When she walked in, she told us they had successfully removed the lump with clear margins - 1cm of healthy tissue all around the lump, ensuring no cancer was left behind. My autistic brain takes time to process things, so I don’t think I truly understood what that meant until we left and my husband said: “You’re cancer-free.” Honestly, I don’t think it really sank in until a year later.
Part of the lump had been sent for further testing. It turned out to be 2.5cm by 5cm.
Woah.
How did I not feel something that size growing inside me?
Back in the room, the consultant removed my dressings and stepped back like an artist admiring her work. She leaned in, checked my scars, and was pleased with how they were healing. The most delicate area was just under my nipple where three skin flaps had been joined. We knew that was the weak spot - it had been explained before surgery. A small dressing was put on that point, and the rest was left uncovered to help the wounds heal with air.
The very next day, that wound on my left boob soaked through my post-surgery bra. We called the Breast Care Nursing Team, and they asked us to come in to have it checked.
Hover To See Photo Of
Hole In My Boob Due To Infection
(Don't Hover If Squeamish)
Infection
During February, we went to the hospital ten times for new dressings.
Yes - ten.
That weak point wasn’t healing and became infected. We were warned this might happen. They swabbed it and gave me a broad-spectrum antibiotic, but the test results later showed the infection was resistant. So we switched antibiotics.
It took the whole of February for that small area to start closing.
Everything had to be healed before I could move on to the next stage - meeting my oncologist (chapter 4).
Everything had to be healed before we could start chemo.
I say we, because it really did affect all of us.
Confirmation & Results
Then came the letter.
It included details from my post-op appointment, but what I had been waiting for most was the official diagnosis. I needed to know exactly what had been growing inside me.
I didn’t just read it - I broke it down line by line. That helped me process. Understanding the science helped me feel like I had some control.
Here is my diagnosis:
Stage 2, Grade 3, Invasive Ductal Carcinoma
Estrogen Positive (8/8)
Progesterone Positive (8/8)
HER2 (+1) Negative
KI67: 80%
LVI Positive
NPI: 4.45
pT2 pN0
It isn't until I understood what my diagnosis meant that I understood that there is a lot more to cancer than meets the eye.
Hover To See Photo Of
Boob Scars Healed
(Don't Hover If Squeamish)
Armpit Scar From Lymph-nodes Being Removed
And Here Is What It All Means:
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Stage 2 (S2): Tumour was between 2cm and 5cm.
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Grade 3 (G3): Fast-growing and aggressive.
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IDC (Invasive Ductal Carcinoma): Cancer had spread beyond the milk ducts.
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ER+ (8/8): Cancer cells were strongly responsive to estrogen. The 8/8 is the "Allred Score" - indicating the highest level of hormone sensitivity.
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PR+ (8/8): Same as above, but for progesterone.
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HER2 (+1) Negative: Low levels of HER2 protein. HER2-positive cancers need different treatment, but mine didn’t.
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KI67 (80%): This is a high score, meaning the tumour cells were dividing quickly. This influenced the choice for more aggressive treatment.
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LVI Positive: Tumour cells were found in lymph or blood vessels, increasing the risk of recurrence.
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NPI (Nottingham Prognostic Index): My score (4.45) puts me in the moderate prognosis group. It’s calculated using tumour size, grade, and lymph node involvement.
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pT2: Tumour was 2–5cm
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pN0: there was no evidence of cancer in the 4 lymph nodes removed.
Echocardiogram
Before chemotherapy, I needed a heart function test - a baseline echocardiogram.
Honestly, it took longer to find the department than to actually have the test. I changed into a gown, lay on a hospital bed, and had stickers placed on my chest, connecting to a machine. The nurse positioned my left arm above my head and pressed a button. The machine whirred, then again - whirr.
That was it. Stickers came off. I got changed. We went home.