Grief. It’s unpredictable. It’s not just sadness. It’s a whole slew of you-know-what that tears right through. 

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I Will Hold It Just As It Is :: June 10, 2018

Date night with my sweet Christopher tonight. We talked about lots of things. The basement. The girls.The crazy summer schedule. Work. Cancer. Our relationship. The now-2-week-away surgery. The unknowns of recovery.

We are both feeling some anxiety about what’s coming… Will I wake up with tissue expanders back in and no other options but prosthetics or will I wake up with 4 sets of stitches and a completed successful surgery? Will I recover smoothly? How long will it take to walk upright? How long will I need to wear a bodysuit? How many drains will I have? When can I drive? When can I sleep in a bed again? When will I be well enough to resume normalcy? Is normalcy even possible ever again? Will I be able to do acupuncture after the next chemo after surgery? 

So much to wonder….so much unknown… As with any unknown – they soon become known…..so I wait. But while I wait, I’ll acknowledge that I am struggling with a few things… 

I have a hard time hearing, “Aren’t you excited for your new boobs?” or “You get to have the surgery we all wish we could have! You get a tummy tuck, liposuction and perky new boobs?! Yes!”

Now, I know people aren’t intending any harm and whenever they say it, I laugh along because the last thing I want to do is hurt their feelings, but at no point is this anything to be jealous of. At no point would they actually want to be in my shoes. Nor would I ever wish that so. It’s not to say that I don’t have any positive feelings about it…it IS one more big thing soon to be in my rear view mirror, but there is that part of me that is still resentful that I even have to be here….I still have moments (and I did at dinner tonight with Chris) where I think, cancer. Really? 

I’m also struggling when I hear, “You’re almost done.” Yes, there is a part of this that is so true and so hopeful. It’s also a reminder that I’m not actually. There is much left ahead…more surgical procedures, more follow up appointments, more tests, more waiting, more results, more unknowns, more chemo…more life events navigated through the filter of cancer, more relationships impacted by this evil disease, more decision making. 

It’s a strange place holding the tension of hope and sorrow; joy and pain; relief and apprehension… But, that is the reality of this moment and so I will hold it just as it is. 

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The Million Dollar Question :: June 10, 2019

It’s been just about a year since my first main reconstruction surgery….And I’m in an interesting and devastatingly difficult place tonight. Did I choose the right path? Making huge decisions without being able to see how it all pans out is really hard. Knowing what I know now, would I choose the same thing? ……….The million dollar question, right? And a question that every human has also likely encountered.

I look in the mirror and see the horror of cancer. The scars. The damage done by radiation. The misshapen, uneven, best effort of a human to create body parts that cancer took. Sure, incredible science and ingenuity and artistry, but not God-made. I’m undoubtedly grateful that I am alive because they were able to remove the cancer before it infiltrated my entire system, yet I’m also acknowledging the ugliness left behind. 

I see my husband and his whole family all getting super fit and thin and healthy with the keto diet plan (which is also really good at keeping cancer away) and I’m stuck wondering how I can possibly measure up… My whole last year has been a total of 7 surgeries to move fat from one place to another to create the illusion of breasts. If I jump on the keto bandwagon to get thin everywhere else and look super fit and healthy like my husband, I lose the very fat that I’ve had to work so hard to keep so that my surgeon has had something to work with…not to mention the massive undertaking it has been to recover from surgery after surgery after surgery. The pure exhaustion of maintaining a hopeful attitude, a resilient ‘showing up’ to manage full-time work and full-time family and full-time surviving cancer and the navigation of constant unknown is literally beyond words. 

Where does this leave me? Did I choose the right thing? Should I have chosen nothing and used prosthetics because, well, they would be even and the same shape and the same size? Would that have been better?

My self-image is a mess. Some days I say, “EFF IT” and some days I bawl my eyes out. I can say, right or wrong, good or bad, healthy or unhealthy that I am at war with my body. I hate what it did to me. I hate how it let me down. I hate that it tried to kill me. I hate what I’m left with. I hate what I have to look at. I hate what I have to creatively cover with clothes. I hate that I have yet another lose-lose situation: keep on the fat that I’ve sacrificed much for or lose the fat that I’ve sacrificed much for.

Cancer is a bitch.

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No post for 6/10/20

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