A timeline of my healing in photos and why I decided to share so much.

A picture is worth a thousand words. I praise God I’m able to speak every one of them!

Sharing my postoperative photographs is the emotional equivalent of standing at the edge of a steep cliff with one foot dangling off. The feeling is so intense that I named it Vulnerability Peak. For months I prayed, agonized and counseled through this content with my husband Roger. We’ve looked at, and talked about, these pictures more times than I can count. Roger supports Simply Spoken Life in its entirety and continues to reiterate that decisions pertaining to the content we share here are mine.

My dream team of doctors had promised we’d see a remarkable progression of my healing within the first two-months, so taking the pictures seemed like a wonderful way to document God’s healing touch. However, the insecurities in my spirit about whether to include them here hovered over my head like a big cartoon question mark. That is until the Lord laid the name of one of my most trusted guides on my heart. It was Ahran. My sister-friend of 25-years. I knew she could handle the weight of my emotions and help me navigate the thought process.

I valued Ahran's input the most because she is the closest person to me who has also traveled the brutal path up Vulnerability Peak. Ahran was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes in 1989 and by 2008 she was experiencing kidney failure. By God's grace, and under the guidance of her own Indiana University Hospital care team, Ahran was placed on an organ donation list. Finally in 2010, she underwent a successful pancreas/kidney transplant. When I asked Ahran for her opinion about sharing my recovery photos here she responded with an emphatic, “Missy, you have to! This is what people going through oral cancer surgery will want to see. Before my transplant, I watched a video of my entire procedure and looked at hundreds of photos. I wanted to know exactly what I was in for.” Her words were like a secure strong arm yanking me back from the edge of Vulnerability Peak. I immediately felt brave and at peace because what she said reflected the mission of Simply Spoken Life - which is to help take the fear out of glossectomy surgery and to extend hope to anyone navigating oral cancer.

Healing photos with captions:

One-week after surgery

One week after surgery and my physical healing is already evident. Here a flap of skin was taken from my left wrist and used to reconstruct my tongue. The translucent-looking skin filling the inner part of the stitched halo was grafted from my leg. I recognize that the appearance is really rough. Blessedly it was not painful.

One-month after surgery

Like baby steps, my wrist was continuing to scab and heal a little bit at a time.

Two-months after surgery

Wow! I’m fascinated by how my wrist accepted the skin that had been grafted from my leg to cover it. It looks like a little pink lasso here, but the color would continue fading as I continued to heal.

Six-months after surgery

I am overjoyed to have this content. To watch my healing ‘right before my eyes’ now is refreshment for my soul.

Healing help

These silicone patches were such a comfort and also helped pull the redness out of my scars.

A loving act of kindness

Roger’s strong hands were tender to the touch as he applied my silicone patches. (My Emmy Award winning TV director is also a pretty fantastic ‘nurse’.)

Compression sleeve for comfort

After we applied the silicone patches, I would carefully slip my arm into a compression sleeve. It not only protected my healing scar, but it was such a comfort. I would wear this while I was sleeping at night; about 7-9 hours.

Skin graft site (Two-weeks post op)

This photo was taken two-weeks after surgery. This was the most annoying and painful point on my body after the glossectomy. (I joked that “my rash got a rash” because an itchy, irritated, red ring developed around the graft site. It was a reaction to the bandage I used to cover it.)

Still healing! (One-month post op)

This is the graft site one month after surgery.

Tongue photo (precancer)

This photo is from the very beginning of my glossectomy journey, when my dentist first discovered faint gray lines under my tongue during a routine dental exam.

Disease progression

My tongue was still in the precancer phase of the disease here. But it was getting worse, moving around to the side, and it was starting to hurt.

Now under an oral surgeon’s care

What had started as faint gray lines under my tongue had progressed to blisters on top of my tongue. By this point my dentist had referred me to an oral surgeon. It wouldn’t be long before more invasive testing would be required.

After ablation

It felt as horrible as it looks. -Easily the worst pain for me photographed on this page - including from surgery! It felt like my tastebuds had been burnt-off with a Bic lighter.

Final biopsy before glossectomy

This is a hard one for me to look at. The blackened area is where the final biopsy was performed (confirming cancer). Three weeks later, I’d be in surgery.

Biopsy

What you see is what it felt like. An incision was make in the side of my tongue and then closed with stitches. They dissolved quickly but unfortunately my precancerous cells didn’t fade away with them.

My new tongue

I made peace with my new tongue instantly. My surgeon and his team did such a remarkable job! (Mic drop Dr. Sim… Boom!)

“My dream team of doctors had promised we’d see a remarkable progression of my healing within the first two months, so taking photos seemed like a wonderful way to document my recovery.”

My husband fulfilled his "for better or for worse" promise by scraping the blood clot from my leg, as per instructions from our care team. The skin grafted from my leg was used to cover my wrists.

The hockey puck sized blood clot at the site of my skin graft. (Roger would joke that, “This looks important.”) It was important, and a little creepy. But it actually wasn’t painful.

Have a question about what you’ve seen here? If you do, please feel free to email me at melissa@simplyspoken.life.