|Bair Paws - warming system for hospital gowns|
I remember the agonizing decision I had to make before and I remember standing in the shower the night before the surgery (the last real shower I've taken by the way) and holding my breasts and sobbing. I stood there and cried uncontrollably for 20 minutes before my husband came to get me and hold me in his arms. Me soaking wet, him still in clothes. He gently guided me to bed where I laid and cried quietly until I fell asleep. I woke up early the next morning ready for surgery with a resolve that this is what had to be done. I was finished with my mourning and now was time to move on.
And, I'm okay. It's been a month. It hasn't been an easy recovery - but the renal surgery I had earlier this year was much more painful and difficult. I've had my ups and downs to be sure - and if you've been reading this blog, you've been here for all of them.
But here I am, one month later, and I'm not crying. I'm not mourning my breasts - I did that before the surgery. I'm actually okay without them. Much more okay than I thought I'd be. I never imagined that I'd walk around happily without breasts. I go out with friends, I take my kids places - I don't miss those old saggy boobs! I love not wearing a bra and fooling with it all day. I love answering the door and not worrying about whether I have a bra on or not! Take that all your bra-wearers! HA!
Most of all, this hasn't changed ME. My friends still love me and tease me. My family still thinks I'm beautiful. The world doesn't even seem to notice. I can't wear anything I want yet - some shirts make it more obvious than others and I'm not comfortable with that yet. Other shirts I can't yet get over my head.
Because the most pain I'm having now is from losing the lymph nodes under my arms. I can't lift my arms up still (which is normal) so I can't get most pullover shirts on. Or, I can maybe get them on - but then I can't get them off - which happened the other night when my husband had to rescue me from a shirt I tried on and then couldn't get off. He was able to extract me which is good because I had visions of him having to cut me out of it.
I've been through a lot this last month. Losing my breasts, phantom nipple pain (weird!), the sensation that I'm still wearing a bra!, the pain of recovery, those damn drains!, finding out that I have the most aggressive Grade of cancer, finding out that I have a 50% chance of recurrence (without chemo and cancer drugs), finding out that I'll have to have chemo, cutting my hair short, preparing to lose my hair...
But, here I am. Late morning, sitting in my messy home, writing. Everyone else still asleep. And, I'm okay. Sure, I've lost some boobs and I'm going to have a long few months ahead of me but, the things that are really important in life....none of those things have changed.
And isn't THAT what it's really all about?
Boob Count: 112