Missing a furry Angel, The Surprise of the Century, and Leaning into Acceptance, Reluctantly

It was another long day in what has turned out to be a very long week.

Lots going on in this house with a furry angel who unexpectedly needed surgery to remove bladder stones.  She is there now, recovering from surgery, which went well.  I tried to tell her she was not going back to the pound and we love her so but I know she was frightened, and did not understand why we left her there.  She won't come home till Wednesday, and I hope and pray until then, somehow she will sense we took her there to take care of her. We are coming for her, and will bring her home.

This house is not the same without our Cassie girl.

Cassie in the back seat, on her bed, on our way to the Vet

It has been a week of ups and downs for me, are you ready for this one?  Wait for it, wait for it...  I got my period.

Let me repeat.

I got a period.  Haven't had one since last July, two months into chemo.  Doc thought fur shizl that was the end of that for me, but oh no Honey, I am full of surprises and every time they think I am going to turn right, I turn left.

I got a period.  Fiddy two, one year of cancer treatment, a breast cancer that was hormone positive, and my body decides, let's show her, we ain't done yet.

I got a period.

So this is menopause, eh?  Stops and starts and holy crap, I was not prepared for it, had given away all my menstrual accoutrements, bleeding like a river and not a damn thing in this  house!  What's a girl, I mean an old lady to do?

Never thought I'd be going to the grocery store to buy the super maximum extra strength super dee duper with wings pads again.  Yup there I was, like a damned teenager in the feminine care aisle, looking for menstrual accoutrements.

Accoutrements.  That's a damn fine word.  Get you some for whatever you need them for.

Well, let me also say a lady, a fiddy two year old lady, with one year of cancer treatment behind her and reconstruction still to go, and a furry angel in the hospital, is in no condition to be making decisions about any old thing and especially not big things.

but here I am.

Ready for reconstruction, sort of, got my plastic surgeon of choice, then ran into same old glitch, it's a damned long story, and now, out there, walking the streets again, looking for somebody who can fix me, fix what I am left with, and of course, is In Network.

dadgummit, ain't I been through enough, can't I just have who I want and who feels right to me, do I have to jump through all the insurance company hoops??!!  With a DIEP procedure it requires a team of two, it's a long ass surgery, and lots of MICROSURGERY involved, and wouldn't you know, you find a plastic surgeon who is In Network, but their surgical partner IS NOT.  It's crazy, and it's common.

And today, when I met with another plastic surgeon and he reminded we aren't doing cosmetic surgery here, we are doing reconstructive surgery, that's when it hits me again, this is what I am left with.  They need to rebuild what was taken away.  Not augment.  Rebuild.

There are some days, it takes everything you got to lean into acceptance and let your old self go.  You can't expect to look anything like you once did.  Those days are over.  That girl is gone.

This is who I am now.

Deep breath.

This is where I start now,

from here.

Every once in awhile though, I still miss the old me, I grieve for the old me, I want the old me back.

All original parts.

They all say you will look great in your clothes.

But it's the naked me I am preparing for, stitched and cut and altered and stuffed, looking something like the character "Sally" from A Nightmare Before Christmas.

It's the naked me I am preparing for, and who shall I trust and who can I find to create this new me while still accepting the old me is never coming back?

I am rambling now I know, and not sure if I am talking to you, or talking to me.

I will sleep now and try again

tomorrow

wait for the bleeding to stop

and maybe the head to clear

and the emotions to settle down into Savasana.

This is what it's like sometimes, a menopausal mermaid crying at the closed door and swimming towards uncertainty.

I'm sure there is a plan for me, could somebody just tell me what it is?

and will I like it?