Thursday, August 13, 2015. This is going down in the books as the day my husband first saw the results of my mastectomy. It’s been four weeks and two days since the surgery.
I, myself, went from refusing to look at the wounds to staring in fascination at the flat spot and incision line where my breast used to be.
Every so often I would ask him, “Are you ready to see it?” and he would say, “I can if you want me to” but I could tell it wasn’t the right time. So I went from a woman who wandered in and out of the shower naked to one who scrupulously closed and locked the door behind me, so no one, my husband nor my children, would have to accidentally see me.
This hiding thing is kind of a tough feat, because after I shower, I have to basically sit topless for about 30 minutes while the surgical tape dries. I generally put on a loose fitting shirt, minus the bra, and go about my business.
Today, I walked (topless) out of the bathroom and over to the closet to get that loose fitting top. Saul was sitting on the bed. “Hey!” I said, “The incision is looking really good! Wanna see it?”
Saul looked at me with a crooked smile and said, “I think I already am.”
It turns out I have gotten so comfortable with this ‘new me’ that I completely forgot that I was supposed to be in hiding.
It wasn’t a big moment for Saul. He didn’t cringe or vomit or fall over in disgust. He didn’t pull me in close and hug me and tell me how beautiful I am. He just acted like he’d seen it a thousand times already. Like that was how I was supposed to look.
I’m not sure, but I think that was the perfect response… It’s pretty nice to be married to a man who sees his wife for what’s on the inside more than what’s on the outside.
