Boob Voyage

It's the eve of my double mastectomy and I'm having a lot of feelings. Mostly anxiety, but some definite sadness too.

Don't get me wrong, I understand the importance of this surgery in my treatment plan, I know it has to happen. Since the Chemo didn't kill my tumor, this surgery is even more crucial than ever. But it's still hard, emotionally.

I'm anxious because it's a major surgery and things can go wrong. I'm scared I'll still have cancer when they get the pathology report back. So basically, I'm scared to have the surgery, but I'm scared I'll die if I don't. You know, the normal things to be anxious about.

But lets get down to it...

Boobs. They're just boobs, right? I mean, I don't need them. I was never particularly attached to them, probably because I developed them right when I was expecting them and never had to want for them. They aren't huge but they aren't small, so they weren't something I ever spent any time focusing on. I had friends that wished for bigger ones. Or smaller ones. I remember Rudy Huxtable ordering magic cream to make her boobs come in, which obviously didn't work. I listened to my friends and I watched the very special tv episodes, but boobs weren't my issue. I was always much more concerned with how fat I was. My boobs were just boobs. BUT THEY WERE BOOBS, if I had no boobs it would've been a different story altogether.

But now, those boobs are infected, diseased and they're trying to kill me, so why am I so emotional about losing them?

I suppose a lot of it is the fact that at this point, nearly 8 months since my diagnosis, I'm feeling pretty low, self confidence wise. It feels a little like with each new phase of treatment a little piece of my femininity is taken away...

First, I lost the hair on my head. Being a bald woman has been difficult. I've yet to work up the courage to go commando (no head covering) in public.

Then I lost my eyelashes and my skin turned so dry it flakes off. So I can't even put makeup on to try and look better.

A month into chemo, my periods stopped. That was a temporary benefit, I thought. Then my Oncologist told me the next step was a monthly shot, Zoladex, to shut down ovary function, forever, so that I'd be forced into menopause.

And now, they're amputating my breasts. I know I'll get reconstructed boobies, but with months of fills (with the temporary expanders to stretch the skin) and possible radiation looming, it will be a long time before I have anything near normal looking boobies.

I know, I know. Who cares what they look like, I'll be alive. I know! Stop lecturing me.

So that's where I'm at. I'm thankful I have this way to prolong my life, but I'm scared to have it done. I'm super pissed my boobs betrayed me, but I'm still sad to see them go.

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