I went to bed really frustrated last night. I planned on working today to help to be sure that I can finish all my work tasks before my last day of work .... and I was frustrated. It was a Sunday. All I wanted to do was have a normal day with my family and do normal stuff and help Steve clean out the garage. That is all I wanted. Instead, I was going to work, in preparation for a surgery that I never wanted to have in the first place.
Do not get me wrong, I always knew I would have reconstructive surgery. I have been jokingly referring to it as, "They are going to put me back together." My sensical way of telling referring to the fact that in eight days I will have "boobs" again.
This whole cancer thing is what sucks. And I am mad. I try to stay positive 90% of the time, but as the surgery day approaches and I think of the suffering that I, and my family right alongside me, will have to endure, my frustration peaks.
Of course, I tell people a lot of different things to mask my fears. I tell people that I think I am a better person after going on my breast cancer journey. I tell people that things could have been a lot worse: I could walk out on the street and be hit by a bus-at least cancer was something I could fight. I tell people that we all have our issues, mine just happen to be life threatening. I tell people all these things, and I mean them.
However, today, my anger that will not be soothed by any of my previous statements.
And what I have come to realize is that being angry is OK.
For the past several weeks, I have had numerous instances that I have been meaning to sit down and write about. Document my feelings and the events that contributed to them. Sharing through my blog has been both my joy and my therapy. A hectic schedule is really to blame for my never getting it done...but a small part of me knows that I just have not wanted to deal with my surgery.
And that is OK, too.
So now, it is crunch time. Pre-ops are done. Blood work, not yet. I have started making arrangements for the kids. I talked to my daughter today about being brave and helping around the house, telling her that a couple months from now, it will all be over, mostly.
And I will get my brain wrapped around what I have to do. I will be in a positive place come next Sunday night. And I will be OK, with perky boobs to boot.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Reconstruction Surgery Scheduled!
I was riding the elevator to my office Monday morning, when another colleague joined me. She complimented me on my still very short hair and asked how I liked it. I paused, as I usually do when people remark about my hair and told her I loved it. I went on to explain how I had been on a cruise last month and my hair always looked great no matter what the weather.
After exiting the elevator, upon my walk down the hall towards my office, I pondered the fact that I did not tell my colleague about my breast cancer and explain this as the reason for my short hair. I was glad that I did not. She honestly wanted to know what it was like to have short hair and I may have been the encouragement she needed to take to the leap. It was nice to inspire someone outside of my cancer journey. The thought made me smile.
And truth be told, my cancer journey is coming to a close: my reconstructive surgery is scheduled for March 21! When I received the actual date, butterflies flew through my stomach like a race car. Brimming with excitement, I scurried home that night to celebrate.
As the reality of the surgery settles in a bit more, I am a bit more melancholy. I am not so much looking forward to adding another scar to my repertoire. The new scar will be across my right shoulder, which is where they will take muscle and skin to create a breast on my right side. However, I am busy, getting house and home in order, so to speak and am trying not to think about the physicalities of the surgery more than I must. Like the rest, I know this surgery will come and go, as will the pain and discomfort, severe as it may be this time around. Scars will heal and clothes will hide was does not. And as far as the actual risks, I am resolved not to worry. I know I have chosen my surgeon well.
Besides my cute short hair is bound to look chic, regardless.
After exiting the elevator, upon my walk down the hall towards my office, I pondered the fact that I did not tell my colleague about my breast cancer and explain this as the reason for my short hair. I was glad that I did not. She honestly wanted to know what it was like to have short hair and I may have been the encouragement she needed to take to the leap. It was nice to inspire someone outside of my cancer journey. The thought made me smile.
And truth be told, my cancer journey is coming to a close: my reconstructive surgery is scheduled for March 21! When I received the actual date, butterflies flew through my stomach like a race car. Brimming with excitement, I scurried home that night to celebrate.
As the reality of the surgery settles in a bit more, I am a bit more melancholy. I am not so much looking forward to adding another scar to my repertoire. The new scar will be across my right shoulder, which is where they will take muscle and skin to create a breast on my right side. However, I am busy, getting house and home in order, so to speak and am trying not to think about the physicalities of the surgery more than I must. Like the rest, I know this surgery will come and go, as will the pain and discomfort, severe as it may be this time around. Scars will heal and clothes will hide was does not. And as far as the actual risks, I am resolved not to worry. I know I have chosen my surgeon well.
Besides my cute short hair is bound to look chic, regardless.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)