Recovery from breast cancer surgery is supposed to be a resting time.

I have never been good at resting. Napping is a foreign concept to me. As a full time working mom of 25 years, sleep was a luxury as I juggled kids, career, household chores, and volunteering.

My “Type A” personality wrestles with rest. It’s been hard to stop suddenly with the arrival of a cancer diagnosis and the need to slow down, to focus on taking care of me. It’s akin to a speeding train going downhill and hitting a brick wall with full force to stop. With cancer, you have to stop. There is no choice, and it’s sudden and unexpected.

Recovery from surgery is a struggle. Living with cancer always plays on your mind. I am restless mentally. I am restless emotionally. Most of all, I am restless physically.

I can’t find a comfortable position to sleep in. I can’t lie on the side in which I had surgery because it’s too weak to put pressure on to raise myself out of bed. I am afraid of putting pressure on the sutured-in drainage tube and dislodging it. I can lie flat on the side opposite to my surgery but my surgery-affected arm can’t find a comfortable position without putting pressure on the operation site. Lying on my back only works for a short period of time before it gets sore.

Consequently, I have become very familiar with the multiple positions a recliner in our living room offers for comfort. It is my sleeping spot since coming home from the hospital.

The recliner isn’t exactly comfortable. I’d gladly swap it for a bed if I could. Legs from my 5’ 10” frame are too long so they hang over, lose circulation, and cause my feet to get cold. But at least the chair reclines. The recliner gives me a number of options to switch to when I my body gets sore from staying still for several hours each day, a requirement of resting, recuperating, and recovery (R x 3).

My breast cancer surgery nurse says it’s not uncommon to have aches and twinges of pain that come with healing. The drainage pulls and pinches. It’s unsightly. The stitches itch. My chest, back muscles, arms and spine are sore from having to stay still with arms stretched wide open during 1.5 hours of surgery. My hands and feet can still get numbing cold as they did in the hospital, their reaction to the trauma my body has undergone to remove cancer.

On good sleep nights, which are 4-5 hours for me, I wake up somewhat rested. I have more energy on those days and roll with the recovery punches better. On days when I have not rested well (sadly there are more of these than the other), I feel tired and less equipped to bounce back. The world feels a bit bluer on those days.

The lessons in resting come at a time in my life when they’re needed the most. They instruct me in learning how to take care of myself. I have so much to learn. R x 3 dictate it must be so.

Cancer continues to teach me more subjects in the school of life. As long as I live with cancer, I will be a life long student.

I study on with Strength, Courage, and Determination.