Two weeks and counting

It's been little over two weeks since the mastectomy and reconstruction. Everyday I can do more and move the left arm more. I often hear that 'time heals everything' and I figure in this case it will be the same. In between I am enjoying all the flowers and messages received from all over the world - thank you all so much!There are still a lot of bruises and stitches. I will see the surgeon tomorrow and he will probably remove the stitches and give an update.

It also feels quite 'tight' in the area that they worked. The part that is most uncomfortable is under the arm where they removed 20 lymph nodes. But I was prepared for this as the textbook gives lots of good advise. With this cancer-journey I decided to pick two or three books and stick to those regarding information. One I found very useful in particular is 'Breast Cancer for Dummies'. It explains a bunch of stuff in ordinary English, although this is an American publication (the breast care nurse advised me to steer away from anything American regarding information, especially on the Internet!)

Another reason for my appointment tomorrow is to talk about the pathology report. I am nervous about the outcome. The bottom line is this: the more lymph nodes involved (cancerous) the more the likelihood of recurrence. There are lots of stats available and I know I need to look at these for what they are, just stats. And I am me, not just a piece of statistics. I also have an appointment with my oncologist and we will discuss the steps we need to take next.

But, we are not sitting bundled-up in a corner and worry about report-results! My parents-in-law went to The Royal Albert Hall last night to attend a Salvation Army Christmas Concert - they loved it! Andries was privileged enough to receive a ticket to the Chelsea VS Arsenal football match yesterday afternoon - also a great experience. Hopefully next time there will be two tickets... Hugo and I are making Christmas cards for his class mates and getting everything ready for next week's jam-packed 'Christmas-week' at school, which will be filled with parties, a kiddies entertainer, playing at the Tiller soft play area and gifts from Christmas father. Then it is holiday time (again!) and he will return to school on the 4th of January, the day after his fourth birthday.

And in between all of this? We are enjoying the Christmas feel all around us! And I am going for an eye brow shape session - it is amazing how fast hair can grow!

Home

There is indeed no place like home - no matter where in the world you called home. As soon as the doctor gave me the green light I packed my little bag and was ready when Andries arrived at 10:30 this morning to take me home. The traffic was a nightmare like most of the time in London, but we arrived on time to pick Hugo up from play school. He was dressed in a space suit and his face lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw me. He ripped off the outfit and told me in no uncertain terms that we are going home!

At home we where welcomed with big-smiled faces and the most delicious smells from the kitchen. Even Ivan, who is completely besotted about his father, was happy to see me. After a cup of tea and a toasted sandwich, I went to take a nap. It was wonderful to sleep in my own bed.

Thanks for all the prayers and messages. Now, I am going to lie down next to the boys and just enjoy a story or two. XXX

Hoping for home

Today I've been in hospital for one week. This time last week the mastectomy-procedure was well under way. I'm very thankful that I am on this side of the operation and on my way to recovery.

The hospital, The London Clinic, is all very smart, the service excellent (my hospital meals chosen from a menu and prepared and delivered by 'Clinic Hotel Services') and the staff extremely professional, but I want to go home now. I miss everyone terribly and can't wait to hand out heaps of hugs and kisses to my boys.

My hair also started to grow at a very good pace for the last week. I even had to shave under my not-dissected armpit this morning. I am very excited about the hair growing back on my head! Since Andries shaved everything off in July, it takes a split second to get used the image in the mirror, every single time I look at myself. Although it doesn't 'feel' different to have no hair on my head. The first lot of hair that is coming out feels very soft and the ends burnt - I think because of the strong chemo drugs. I have gotten the advise to let it grow out a bit and then shave it all off again. The next set of hair is then usually nice, smooth, strong and thick.

On a very serious hair-note. I've been washing my dome with baby shampoo. I reckoned that would be quite sensible and I will also 'have no tears'. Well, that is rubbish! The reason why babies scream until their faces turn blood-red during bath time, is because the shampoo burns your eyes like hell. Not to mention that it is a horrible sensation when the cold shampoo hits your bald head. Just keep that in mind next time you do babies hair...

Anyway, I am getting ready for my morning date - my three hunks are coming to visit, seeing that I will not be going home today. At least another drain pipe can be removed and then there is only one more left. So maybe, just maybe I can go home tomorrow. I hope you all have a great weekend and that the temperatures in Joburg will be rising very soon. XXX

Four days and counting

So it's been four days after surgery. I am bruised in a lot of places. Still three drain pipes hanging from my left side. Stiff from sleeping eight hours in one position. I am not particularly in a lot of pain, though I drink all the pills that they pile up in front of me - surely a lot of them pain killers. The nursing staff is wonderful - patient, understanding and extremely gentle.

But I miss home, my two beautiful boys, the familiar sounds and smells. My mom-in-law is by far the best cook I know. She can dish up the most amazing plates of food with minimal ingredients and splashes of spices here and there. I am so looking forward to that once I am home. My blood platelets are low and the doctor advised that I should eat well and added that "I don't need to tell a South African to eat red meat". But no piece of red meat in the UK can even begin to compare to a piece of Karoo lamb..... mmm....

My surgeon is off to a South African beach holiday. Cape Town. I am so excited for him. I gave him a nice long list of places to visit, wine to taste and roads to travel. He looked at me and said he was hoping to relax on the beach but would definitely consider my 'to do' list. I am so happy about the fact that the pounds we are spending on the surgery will be channeled back to South Africa - I hope he buys a lot of good wine and delicious SA cuisine.

Tonight the care group is packing shoe boxes. This is usually a fun-filled evening! The aim is to produce a Christmas box filled with toys and sweets for less fortunate children. A project run by the church. We are all so blessed, that it is so nice to be able to give back and share blessings. I hope that you will also join a special project this coming Christmas time and make a difference in someone's live, even if it is just one person.

The morning after...

The morning after the operation started very early - around 1 am. By that time the worst of the drowsiness was something of the past, and I could start my recuperation. At some point during my immediate post operation recovery I was instructed to control the pain by the self administration of morphine. I could not overdose on this pain killer, but had the ability to administer it not more frequently than every five minutes. For some reason I remembered that I should push the button every five minutes. The result was a very good first night, but also a bemused anaesthetist telling me that I used twice the normal amount of morphine following the operation. This does not classify me as an addict, and resulted in me feeling very happy and pain-free. He warned me that once this "overdose" has worn off it may result in post operation blues though!

I suspect that that many of you may wonder what the new breast looks like. I'm not going to publish a picture of my new piece of art, but suffice to say that I am very happy with the result... The shape of my new breast may change over time but the end result is normally quite satisfactory. I need to keep in mind that the aim of the operation is not to create a mirror image of the other breast, but rather to give me a "normal" looking cleavage when I wear under- or swimwear.

I've had a couple of visitors to date - Andries and Hugo, my mother's cousin Retha (who I last saw in 1980) and the Schiekes that travelled all the way from Reading. According to the surgeon I'll probably be in hospital until next weekend, but between visitors, books, television and my iPod I am sure the time will fly by.

I really feel positive after the operation, and the side effects are pretty manageable. I am not quite ready to cycle the 94.7 yet (and well done to those of you that did this weekend in Johannesburg!) but I'll get there!

A brief update following the surgery

Lourika has just woken up form her anaesthetist induced sleep, and seems to be all right and in good spirit. She is somewhat sleepy still, but otherwise in good form. The surgeon was happy with the operation, and we will see him tomorrow morning first thing.

So far so good - exactly as advertised! I'll provide a more detailed update once Lourika's had a good night's rest.

EGBOK

This morning I am sitting in a little French bakery/brasserie/confectionery on Marylebone High Street, and have just ordered a random breakfast item, and am drinking coffee which should taste great but seems to be of no consequence to me. The reason for all of this is that Lourika was diagnosed with breast cancer six months and two days ago, and after eight sessions of chemotherapy, five weeks of recovery, one week in Egypt and an abundance of prayers she has just gone into the theatre for her surgery. I don't want to wait in her room (which by the way is as good as you'll find anywhere!), so I ventured one block away from the London Clinic and ended up here in a typical British High Street waiting for the four hours to go by.

It was a rainy morning in London, and when we left our house at 6 o'clock the wind was howling. Not dissimilar to my emotions, I might say. The surgeon was held up in traffic so the operation started about 90 minutes later than originally scheduled. And as Lourika entered the theatre the sun came out, and that's when I knew that Everything's Going to Be OK - whatever happens.

Now is perhaps a good time to publish a very general "thank you" to everyone that has supported our family over the last half a year - everyone that visited us and ran the household while Lourika was being treated and I had to keep on working, everyone that wrote, phoned, prayed, Skyped, Facebooked and sent gifts, everyone at work that showed more compassion that I could ever hope for, and everyone that held on to the hope that Lourika will be not a victim but a survivor of breast cancer. And a big big thank you to my brave wife who has made the journey for Hugo, Ivan and I as easy as we could ever have hoped for, and inspiring us along the way. Wow, what a woman!

That's it from me for now - I have to finish my breakfast before I start looking like some kind of writer who's sitting in his favourite corner at his regular coffee joint trying to overcome writer's block...

Au revoir!