Surgical Bras and Soft Pillows

Part 2 of Margaritas and Mastectomy

Six hours later, I woke up in recovery. It was done. Just like that, a chapter had closed and a new one had begun – the road to recovery.

A nurse was beside me as I opened my eyes, assuring me that the surgery had gone to plan and that Dan was waiting outside. Relief washed over me, but so did an overwhelming wave of pain. Everything hurt. The trip back to the ward was a blur, and when the doctor came to confirm the procedure had gone well, I barely registered it.

I was glad to see Dan but certainly didn’t feel up to other visitors. I knew people were reaching out, checking in, sending love, but I had nothing left to give. I couldn’t take on anyone else’s emotions at this point, I needed to hold my own and get the pain under control. Dan took over, updating everyone so I didn’t have to. I was so grateful he just did what I needed.

The First Night

I couldn’t move on my own. Dan and the nurse helped me up to the bathroom and even the smallest actions sent shooting pains through my chest. Holding my phone, and brushing my teeth, things I had never thought twice about, felt impossible.

That first afternoon, Dan figured out a few things about me when helping me in the bathroom (the things you learn about your partner in these moments!). He helped me shuffle back to bed, fed me dinner, and held up my water bottle because even holding it myself was too much. I was exhausted, and desperate for sleep, but rest didn’t come easily.

The woman in the bed next to me had the opposite experience, visitors streaming in all afternoon and evening, talking, laughing, and staying until 10:30pm. This is obviously what her tribe needed for their journey. I kept my blinds down, AirPods in, and meditation music playing, but I could still hear the conversation. Even turning up the volume on my phone sent pain shooting through my body so I tried not to move.

At one point, I heard the tea trolley come by, offering my neighbour a drink. I braced myself, I didn’t want them to come in here, I didn’t want tea. I didn’t want interruptions. I just wanted to sleep. And then… a familiar face. The young tea lady peeked in; it was my dear friend’s daughter. Tears welled up immediately. She hadn’t even known I was in the hospital until she saw my name on the list. Seeing her even for a brief moment was a comfort. As I couldn’t lift my water bottle, she offered to hold it to my mouth, wiped my tears, and snapped a selfie on my phone to send to her mum. A tiny but beautiful moment in the midst of all the pain.

Day Two: Small Wins & Unexpected Encounters

I lay still, not wanting to move. Dan arrived the next morning with coffee, and I was finally ready to connect with friends and family. He sent out a heartfelt message to let everyone know I was okay and ready.

Sitting up was an ordeal, my core strength was non-existent. I regretted not doing more to prepare. I could hear my yoga instructors voice in my head telling me to do more core but there was no changing it now. I couldn’t put any pressure through my arms or chest, making even the simplest movements impossible without help.

The incredible nurses looked after me, regular checks, pain management, wound care. When it came time to remove my surgical bra for routine checks the pain was intense. It was as if knives were being twisted inside my chest. I braced myself and squeezed my fingers through it, focusing on the present moment, one breath and tap at a time.

Then, a moment I wasn’t prepared for. Another nurse came in to train the newer one, explaining post-mastectomy care. And as fate would have it, that nurse turned out to be my ex-partner’s ex-wife. Seriously? Coffs Harbour, such a small town. But this was the thing, I had done the EFT work around my past and because of that, I was able to sit there, let her do her job, have light conversation and move on. She was professional, and so was I. It was a reminder of just how much healing I had already done and EFT was my healer.

Later that day, Dan brought my teens in. Seeing them was everything. I knew this journey wasn’t just mine – it affected them too. They had been incredibly strong and supportive, and having them by my side reminded me exactly why I was doing this.

Homeward Bound

The pain was still intense, so I stayed in the hospital for three days before finally heading home. The car ride was slow and careful with soft pillows across my chest to absorb the smallest bumps in the road.

Care at home was incredible. Dan managed everything; setting me up on the couch, making sure I only moved when necessary, keeping track of my pain meds and drain care. I had no choice but to sit still and let my body heal. A hiccup in recovery wasn’t an option.

Every morning Dan drained and documented my surgical drains, waiting for two consecutive days of outputs below 20ml before they could be removed. I applied cream three times a day to stimulate blood flow to my wounds; no shortcuts, just patience, care and time.

Being vulnerable wasn’t easy for me, but I’ve allowed myself to be. Letting someone else prepare every meal, shower me, hold my drain bags and dress me. The love and support I received were overwhelming in the best way.

From meals to care packages, visits to my hairdresser to wash and dry my hair, a friend massaging my knotted back, a pedicure and daily check-ins, I was surrounded by so much love and and kindness. A dear friend even came up from Sydney to help out and give the household support. Showering me, cleaning, laundry, groceries, cooking. I was completely held.

The Role of EFT in Recovery

Tapping remained a constant. Some days I could only manage a gentle tap or squeeze of my fingertips. Other times I tapped lightly on my face and collarbone unable to reach the top of my head or under my arms. When frustration or pain peaked EFT helped me process it, reducing the intensity so I could keep moving forward.

I had been optimistic about getting back to work sooner, hoping to run my Calm, Coffee & Connect program. But after some medical advice (and some tapping), I accepted that it would need to wait another week.

Another Lesson: Letting People Help

Once upon a time, I would have struggled to let people take care of me. I would have resisted, tried to push through on my own. But this experience has taught me that accepting help isn’t weakness – it is allowing others to show their love in the way they know how. It gives your body time to heal. I felt incredible sympathy for those going through similar treatment on the back of chemotherapy. I can only image how it is for them considering I was fit and healthy going into the procedure.

What’s Next

As I sit here 2 weeks on, wearing a surgical bra and soft pillows under my arms writing part 2, I recognise I’ve come a long way.

There’s been times when I’ve questioned my reconstruction decision, there was a time when I wanted to cry because I just want to shower myself, losing my independence to drive, not being able to exercise, sitting upright to sleep, guilt for having others do everything around the house. But in all of this I’m one of the lucky ones and I’m incredibly grateful. If you’re on your own recovery journey, know that you’re not alone.

As I continue this journey, I’m reminded that healing is just as much emotional as it is physical. EFT helped me release fears leading up to surgery, so I wasn’t drowning in “what ifs”. It helped me manage my pain and discomfort. It allowed me to process frustration and surrender to the healing process, even when things didn’t go as planned. And most importantly, it gave me space to receive support from those who truly wanted to help.

If you’re facing surgery or any big life challenge, I encourage you to explore EFT. It’s not just about tapping on acupressure points, it’s about giving yourself permission to feel, process, and heal in a way that supports you fully.

Your body is incredible. Your emotions are valid, and healing though sometimes messy, is possible. If you’d like to learn more about how EFT can support you through surgery or any major transition I’d love to help. Let’s turn fear into calm, pain into ease, and resistance into healing one tap at a time.

You don’t have to do this alone. Let’s start tapping, schedule a free consultation today.