It’s been a few years since I’ve talked about my boobs so I thought I would spend my time with you today revisiting that topic.
In May of 2015, I was diagnosed with breast cancer on my 40th birthday. No signs or symptoms, it was found during a routine annual exam. (We interrupt this story for a public service announcement: Women, get your mammograms; or at least go visit your doctor once a year.)
Back to the story…
In July of 2015, I had a single mastectomy.
In April of 2016, I had reconstructive surgery.
When all that rigamarole was done, my competent and sympathetic plastic surgeon asked me if I wanted any revisions. I believe my answer was:
I was so sick of people touching me, I just wanted to be done and pretend cancer never existed.
As the scars on my body began to settle, I realized that cancer would never really be gone. Every time I looked in the mirror at one slightly deformed breast I would be reminded.
Reminders are okay. They keep us humble while giving us strength by whispering what we’ve endured.
I’m cool with that. The scars can stay.
But I’m not cool with the fact that wearing a bra is nearly impossible with two different sized breasts. And honestly, I would like to step out of the shower and not feel the need to crawl straight into my towel.
So, at the urging of my Bible study group (yes, we truly talk about everything), I decided to go to the best breast guy in Columbus and see if he thought he could do any revisions.
This doctor is a hoot. When I asked him if anything could be done, he looked me dead in the eye and said, “I’ve done more breasts surgeries than anyone in this entire town. No problem.”
I’m heading in for surgery on Wednesday, so I anticipate being out of commission for a while.
That means no baths for several months. Yesterday, just for fun, I sat in the tub with no water just to see if it’s still as relaxing. It is. And just like when I take a real bath, everyone, including the dog, felt the need to join me.
The boys were perplexed, until they tried it.
Anyway, thanks for taking this cancer journey with me and allowing me to talk about my boobs one more time. Life’s too short to talk about the weather.