Friday, March 16, 2012

Goodbye old friend

I should have been on an operating table yesterday morning. I should have been in a deep narcotic sleep blissfully unaware of what was coming next. But here I am this morning doing what I do every day and sitting in front of my computer thinking about what to write. Seeing as I got a very bad flu last week my surgery date of yesterday was moved to March 28th so yesterday instead passed by quietly. Now I am hoping to have a week or so of rest and relaxation while my body gains strength before it is beaten down to ground zero again. It is funny that nearly a year ago, I was in the exact same situation and was waiting for the same operation to happen. But a year ago, I was much more innocent and na├»ve about the whole thing. I didn’t know what to expect, I didn’t know what to feel and I didn’t know how things would be after. But now I am a veteran of the game which brings with it both positives and negatives. I know I can get through it but I also know that there are about a million other things I would rather do. I remember that morning so clearly – it was early and I was so hungry!! I was so cold and my legs were shaking while I tried to flip through a magazine I didn’t even understand. I remember the surgeon coming in to talk to me before and what he said to me by accident that made me so scared. I was already scared but his word translation mix up didn’t help the situation. “What is so exciting about your cancer is that it is aggressive.” Oh really? Exciting…not what I would call exciting by my definition. New dress? Exciting. Salary increase? Exciting. Tropical holiday? Exciting. Cancer? No way in hell. It really shifted the mood of the room and hearing out loud the scariest aspects of my case really made me want to throw up. But I didn’t. I tried to keep it together. I managed to stay intact until I was lying on the crucifix table (I don’t know why they let you walk in and lie down on that thing – why can’t you be asleep?). It makes you feel like Frankenstein getting his arms sewn on. Creepy! As the nurse tried to get the IV needle in and I told her how I hated it so much, the tears started to flow. The reality and full impact of the situation suddenly hit me. What was happening was happening now and I had no choice in the matter. I remember telling them to please put me to sleep now so the pain could stop.

So I will go through the same motions again and this time I know what to expect. Or perhaps I don’t? At least there won’t be any suspense at the end of this one. No lymph questions to be answered. But how weird is it to remove a perfectly healthy part of your body and not by accident? I never had any doubt or indecisiveness over this surgery – there was no choice. But suddenly now that I am so close to it, I am becoming quite melancholic over the whole thing. Even though I was OBB, I still had one breast that allowed me to maintain some sense of my feminine form. Something to remind me of the woman I was. But now there will be nothing but blank space and scars. Even with reconstruction which will happen later on, it will never be the same. It will never be the way it was and I find that really quite sad. These things I took for granted for so long, and who I think were quite a spectacular pair, will now simply be immortalized by a few saucy bikini shots taken on various summer holidays over the years. But I was thinking though perhaps this might improve my golf game seeing as there wont be anything in the way of my swing? Here`s looking on the bright side…

A funny thing happened this week – one of my surgeons called me to confirm my earlier request to donate my breast to research. I had figured I didn’t have any use for it so why not give it to something that might help advance breast cancer research. She asked whether I still was ok doing this – to which I replied of course as it wasn’t like I was going to let it sit on my mantle in a jar of formaldehyde (seriously gross!). She said great and that they would need to organize transport for my breast. I told her I only wanted first class for my friend! No cargo class please. We both laughed and she said it was so good that I could still find a reason to find humor at a time like this. Well what choice do I have? I have had those moments when I have cried and they have been often but it feels so much better to laugh. To laugh at my VIP boob being taken by chopper across town!

So I will try to enjoy my last week with my leftie friend before she heads off to the big bra in the sky.


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