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Little Hand Out the Window
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I've had some trying times in my life - I'm no one special, everyone has hard times. I've had several health scares and I'm, unfortunately, no stranger to the operating room or emergency room. If I look back on my life, I can identify a few really trying times in my life in regards to my health. One was when I was pregnant with my son (now 7) and a test came back marking him as having Down Syndrome. I was rushed into an amniocentesis and then had to wait days to find out. Those days were some of the darkest in my life - I was devastated. It ended up that I got a false reading and he was a perfectly healthy baby. Other times that have been difficult were when I found out I had renal cancer and when the doctors *thought* I had thyroid cancer.
The days I'm living through now will rank right up there as some of the darkest in my life. As I see it, I have no good options. Either I have a lumpectomy and spend my days WAITING for the cancer to come back - because, let's face it I don't have a very good track record. Or, I have a mastectomy and lose my breasts.
As much as I go back and forth and as much advice as I get - it just keeps coming back to, "What would my kids want me to do?" I mean - if my kids are looking back from the future would THEY think it was okay that I had a lumpectomy and rolled the dice with my life or would they be thankful that I had a mastectomy and did what I could to be around to see them go to Prom, graduate, get married, have children... Will they care that Mom doesn't have breasts for awhile? Will they care that I eventually have breasts that aren't really my own? Doubtful.
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| This is what 7 Looks Like |
As I looked in the rear-view mirror on the way home today, I watched my son put his little face out the window and watched the wind blow his hair back. I thought about that innocence of being 7 and I thought about how I can't leave him, I just CAN'T - I can't shortchange him or his sister just to keep a couple of big boobs on my body. I have to do everything I can to make sure I'm still here for them. Because, it's not really about boobs, it's about my life. I don't want my kids to look back and say that their Mother died when they were young, but hey, she had her own boobs!
I know what I have to do but I'm far from having accepted it. I'm in mourning for all that I'll lose. I have to learn to celebrate all that I'm keeping.
Boob Count = 38
Loose the knockers and get a new rack!
ReplyDeleteOk seriously....your writing is amazing. Got a little choked up here. I know that whatever decisions you choose will be the right one. My friend who went thru the same thing as you got a new rack and she doesn't ever have to wear a bra...imagine that!
I think you are making the right decision. I can't imagine how hard that decision is, but your family and friends love and want you, not your boobs. And just think when I will be picking mine off the floor and tucking them into my pants anyday now, you will have cute perky ones. Love you!!!
ReplyDelete*tears*
ReplyDeleteYes. That is the unselfish decision. Though, I know you enough to believe that for you, it is also the selfish decision.
And yes.... you'll get to gloat with your perky falsies while the rest of us have skin that has lost all elasticity and have to work to avoid catching them in the waistbands of our pants.
Love you!