Monday, February 6, 2012

Boobless Blues

Well, I found my pony, and climbed back on, facing backwards at first, but I've turned myself around, and we are on our way again.

Giddy up.  Yee haw.

So where were we?

Last thing I remember it was Thanksgiving, and I was feeling so good physically and mentally and then BAM.

Got the wind knocked out of me,
and my sails,
fell overboard,
barely kept my head above water,
gasping for air and desperate for hopefulness,
and finally
washed up on shore,
spitting sand,
exhausted,
dazed,
and then,

my pony nudged me,
and here I am again.

Let me remind you who I am.

My name is Debbie, and my pen name is writergirldreams.  I am a wife and a mother, a sister, daughter, friend, aunt,

and now

a breast cancer survivor, activist and blogger.

Oh honey,
when my reconstruction got sacked again,
down
down
down
I went.

You see, the thing is, I didn't realize, until it wasn't going to happen again, how much I've needed it to happen.

I remember right before my bilateral surgery, when my then plastic surgeon was put on a limited schedule because she was pregnant with twins.  I was devastated that I was not going to have immediate reconstruction as planned, i.e. go to sleep, lose my fat bunnies, wake up with my new fake bunnies.

I was devastated.  I did not think I could do it.  I did not think I could.

But I did.  Uh huh.  I did.  I survived that first look after coming out of the fog of anesthesia, when I lifted the sheet and for the first time since I was a little girl, I could see my tummy and toes because my chest was as flat as a kitchen counter.

Oh that was hard hard hard.

I've lived almost one year and four months in this altered body, and I've done the best I could, taking the hits as they came, but I did not realize how much it was still affecting me long after cancer camp ended.

I finished cancer treatment a year ago.  A year ago.  Let me say that again.  A year ago.

Every day though, I still look at and live with the me that is the "after cancer" me.  I realized I still feel as if I am in cancer camp, still seeing myself as cancer girl.

There are constant reminders.
A small area of speckling on my neck just below my left ear, souvenirs from radiation.
My port scar.
My drain scars.
My half moon scar in my left arm pit where lymph nodes were removed.
My short hair when my whole life I've been a long hair girl.
Right foot toes that did not wake up.

Mostly though,
mostly,
two flat deflated pancakes of breasts, where once two fat lovable huggable squeezable kissable bunnies lived.  My bunnies.

For almost a year and a half, every time I get dressed, I adjust prostheses in a mastectomy bra, fold up the pancakes inside the bra, and adjust my memory foam bust line.

Every morning.

And every night, I take them off.

I miss boobs.
I miss their bounce.
I miss their jiggle when I giggle.
I miss cute bras and lingerie, and having boobies to dress up,
and dress down.
Boobs.
The perfect girly accessories.
I miss them.

I will never have my old ones back, they had to go so I could live, and I can live with that.
 
I've been in this chrysalis too too long.  It is choking me now and got me tied in knots, and it won't feel like I've graduated from cancer camp until I've completed this last journey.

I am scheduled again for my reconstruction surgery on March 28th, 2012.

Click click.

That was me,
making that little clicking sound,
to tell pony,
let's go Baby,
get me there.

Get me there.

4 comments:

Kimberly said...

You are one of the strongest people I know. Thank you for all you do for orhers. I love ya, Debbie!

Jane said...

One of the things I love most about you is your honesty. Your no shame, this is me honesty. It makes the rest of us sisters feel normal. I'm glad you're on your pony and headed outta the corral. Hopefully mine will follow you soon. Xoxo

Anonymous said...

So glad you're back on the pony. Let me know when you're ready to shop for them thar cowgirl boots! I am going to be doing a short dance at our local Cancer Support Community on Feb. 17th. Same one I did at the wedding. What the audience doesn't know is that I am only going to dance to part of the song. Then I am going to invite them up to learn it and dance with me. What's that we said, "Dance on your tears!"? I love you, Deb. We are still waiting for you to say it's okay for us to visit. And we're waiting for March 28th right along with you!
Desertpirate and J

Kendra said...

Oh, my, you said it! I have been feeling the same way. My reconstruction has been put off for so long now, I have begun to wonder if it will ever happen, and have even stopped hoping. I won't write the new date in ink on the calendar, for fear something else will push it off again. Thanks for saying what I have been thinking.

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