Tag Archives: Mastectomy

"REHA"!

The storks are leaving

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This morning, I saw a large phalanx (I had to google that) of storks circling low over the clinic, almost as if to say – see you in spring – before heading south.

With just one item on my programme before lunch – an early Marnitz therapy session (a form of massage – SO good, for neck and shoulders but especially for the area around my scars – it does not necessarily feel that good while it is happening, but afterwards – bliss) – I went out for a bracing walk – nearly got blown off the dike several times – to see if I might catch a last glimpse of the storks, but they seem to have gone.

That is kind of sad, but the impressive sight of so many storks in the air at the same time is forever on my retina and I regret not having had my camera with me, locked and loaded, at the time.

This morning’s walk on mapmywalk here.

The first photo is a failed attempt to illustrate how we all can’t wait to send the Corona restrictions spinning.

"REHA"!

Finding my bearings. It’s a bit like bootcamp

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I and one other newbie were met at the station in Heide(Holst.) and chauffeured to the clinic. Check-in and first introductions. Everybody is very friendly and all is running smoothly.

First thing Friday, blood etc tests, and consultation with a doctor to establish a plan of action.

Had my first neck- and shoulder massage by a super nice masseuse. Later, she will also have a go at the area around my scars, which feels very tight.

Today introduction to the back exercise sessions, and used the fitness room and the swimming pool (swimming felt a little weird, but good), before the zoom course mentioned earlier.

And then I expect yet another good night’s sleep – it is completely quiet and pitch dark here :-).

By the way: Let’s get the Corona rules out of the way: Everyone wears masks everywhere and at ALL times except in one’s own room, while eating, and while in the pool. Even in the clinic’s café we have to put the masks back on between sips of coffee, even if we sit meters away from the next person. Luckily, so far, we have a lovely Indian summer and are able to use the terrace outside the café. Visitors are not allowed anywhere in the clinic. We self-test every morning and keep a record, signed, and they trust us be truthful (considering the vulnerability of some people here I doubt anybody would be stupid enough to not be). Every Friday, we hand in the recorded results and pick up new tests for the week.

Mealtimes have been split into two shifts and organised so that only two people sit at each four-person table at the same time, and diagonally across from each other, and at the other shift, the next two people sit at the other seats. Sounds complicated, but it works really smoothly. It does mean that everyone has one designated seat throughout, which kind of limits the number of people one gets a chance to talk to, but on the other hand, people leave and new people arrive three times a week anyway, which is not conducive to making permanent friends. There are group activities, and in addition “extracurricular” activities that we can sign up for if our busy (I’m not kidding) schedules permit, such as qi gong, pilates, yoga, and walks.

A couple of photos from my walks in the area and in the garden surrounding the clinic.

Here some from a quick morning walk around the garden on a misty Saturday morning:

And here it becomes really obvious that Lightroom is not the best software for post-processing of Fujifilm photos. Grainy, wormy …. It is conventional wisdom but my brain is still a bit too fuzzy to even think about learning the software (Capture One) that everybody recommends.

"REHA"!

On my way

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Armed with a negative PCR test from yesterday, I am excited to be on my way to Sankt Peter-Ording for my “Reha”. My “main” suitcase was sent on its merry way on Monday. I can relatively comfortably lift the smaller suitcase with the things I prefer to keep with me in my chronic mistrust of the German courrier services.

Three weeks have been booked, but I have heard and read so many good things about Hamm Klinik Nordfriesland that I am already hoping to stay for one more week. My sickness insurance approved maximum four weeks, so it is up to the medical team there to decide. I am not quite sure which criteria I will have to fulfill.

I am not very familiar with the concept of Rehabilitation. I remember that when my brother and I were children, in Denmark in the 1950s and -60s, there was talk of our mother going on “rekreation” after two (unrelated) major surgeries. I can’t remember if she actually went. Back then, I think the idea was that housewives needed rest directly after leaving hospital in order not to be expected back in the kitchen immediately. Our father was never like that , but he did work 24-hour shifts, so that could have been a reason our mother preferred to stay at home. In those days, in the suburbs, there were housewives all around who I am sure stepped in to help, and my brother and I were used to going in and out of our neighbour’s house in any case.

Here in Germany, these days, it does not seem to be about rest as much as about getting active (which is why I am going). I got through and over surgery very well and could have gone to the relevant therapists as an outpatient in Berlin, but whenever I mentioned that to people – medical as well as non-medical – everybody said – nonsense, you have had a traumatic experience and a very stressful time, and been through major surgery, so go, and enjoy it. When people put it that way, it makes sense, and it seems to be fairly standard after major surgery.

In the meantime, I have been trying to walk a lot, and as usual, Gabi Fastner has been coming to the rescue, just like she has done since the beginning of Corona, during the stressful couple of months this summer, and also as much as I have been able to do after surgery. At this stage, I am almost able to do almost all of her exercises.

For me, at the clinic, I am expecting the focus to be on regaining strength and mobility with pysiotherapy, gymnastics, swimming. Being close to the sea, I am of course also planning on doing a lot of walking.

Naturally, I am bringing my (to me still relatively new) camera and hope to become more familiar with it. Incidentally, before I knew I would be here at this particular time, I signed up for this on-line course, and am very much looking forward to it. James Prochnik is a great teacher. It starts the day after tomorrow, so I hope the Wi-Fi at the clinic does not fail.

When I discussed this with my gynecologist, I said I did not think that I need psychological help. She did not comment, but added it to the list. That is the only thing that makes me a bit nervous. I suspect psychologists have an uncanny ability to make one cry, and I would hope that I have “been there, done that”. We’ll see. The general advice is to go with the flow and do whatever they suggest, at least initially, and I have been looking forward to this like a child to Christmas.

The first time I was at the Waddensea (Wattenmeer) was also in Sankt Peter-Ording, and I fell in love with the region then. I have been back to other spots there, most notably several of the islands, a number of times, and more islands are on my list. I don’t think it ever occurred to me to go back to Sankt Peter-Ording, and I definitely had not imagined these circumstances, but I am very happy to be on my way there now.

"REHA"!

Denial costs lives

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I hear from and read about many people who are secretive about their cancer diagnosis, and go on being quiet about it even once they are cancer free again.

Whereas if someone has a common cold they shout it from the rooftops and act like they are at death’s door.

So why the secrecy, silence and stigma in the case of cancer, and perhaps especially breast cancer? People need to be aware of the fact that shit happens, and of the symptoms, however diffuse. We are all expert deniers. I certainly was – of all the forms of cancer one can get, breast cancer was probably, for me, the most distant from my mind.

I was negligent, which is why I am so grateful that I did not need any further treatment neither before nor after the bilateral mastectomy, and that I am now – for all intents and purposes and as far as anybody can ever be completely certain of it – cancer free.

After I moved to Berlin in January 2016, I never got my act together and found a gynecologist for an annual check-up, despite several reminders from my GP. My excuse for procrastinating in this regard was other minor needs for “medical attention” – knee problems, cataract surgery, etc.etc. – there was always something ….. those were my excuses.

I did go to the public mammography screenings, but skipped the one in the middle of Covid. I then did go to the one in June this year when the invitation came, thinking – this will be my last mammography, since they only go to the age of seventy. Little did I know how prophetic that would turn out to be.

A cancer diagnosis is life-changing. And this comes from someone who was only aware of it for less than two months. What must it be like to live with the uncertainty for years, even decades?

The way I see it is that you might as well try to make something even remotely positive out of a traumatic experience and time and turn it into a kind of awareness-raising activity.

Denial about the possibillity of a cancer diagnosis (let’s not forget that it directly affects one in three or four of us) can cost lives.

Provided my Covid19 PCR test due this afternoon is negative, I am almost on my way to “reha” – much more about that later – I wonder if the subject will be just as hush-hush at the dinner table in a facility designed to bring cancer survivors, and I think also people who are living with cancer, back to a “normal” life as it is out in the real world.