The Woman in the Mirror

I was watching one of my favorite TV food personalities, Nigella Lawson, on her show Nigella Express.  She was making a pea and pesto soup, which was very simple to make and looked delicious.  I love the end of each show, when in her negligee, she sneaks a treat out of the fridge, and doesn't even turn the kitchen light on.  As she pureed the hot soup in a blender, I realized I was watching her boobs, longingly.

Nigella Lawson

That's when it hit me, I missed my fat bunnies, and hers remind me of Flopsy and Mopsy.  I don't miss the care and upkeep of them, but I do miss them.   It's very strange looking at myself in the mirror, or after I've put a shirt on.   There is a counter top where two melons used to be.

I miss em.

Some days, when I look up at the mirror while brushing my teeth, I see my short Peter Pan hair, and no boobs where boobs used to be, and I can't find me.   Me is gone.

I only see the cancer me.

Some days, I am really tired of looking at her, and every day lately, I am tired of being her.

I pray that when I've finished treatment, my hair returns, and my body has been reconstructed, I will see me again.

I know from listening to many of my Sister's who have been out of treatment for some time, moving on with their new normal is not so easy.  Even though their physical appearance has been restored, they still see cancer self or wait for the other shoe to drop.  I understand how that can be paralyzing.

I was wondering tonight,

are you ever really cancer free when you're cancer free?