By the time this blog post is published, I’ll be somewhere in the middle of breast reconstruction surgery. (Update: It’s done. We got home after 9pm and I’m very sore.) I never imagined that I would be here, but who am I not to be? I’d much rather be dancing like I was in the photo just a few weeks ago, but I have to put that part of me on hold for now. In fact, so much of my life has to be placed on hold as I do what needs to be done to take care of this…to take care of me.
I am beginning to understand why cancer patients are referred to as warriors. It is most definitely a fight, and for me, at times a reluctant fight…a fight to stay postive, a fight to face fears, a fight to face the needles, a fight to heal, a fight to rest, a fight to get up, a fight to advocate for yourself, etc. I’ve had to fight to live the life that I want, so I’m well suited for this.
Yesterday, I unsuccessfully tried to fight back tears as I came to the realization after meeting with my oncologist that this fight is going to be longer than I anticipated. Do you remember that kid in elementary school that got so mad right before a fight with a counterpart that he started crying? Maybe you were that kid? Weren’t you thinking that this is the time for fighting NOT crying? Well, I think that crying doesn’t necessarily mean that you feel weak or that you’re going to fail. I prefer to look at is as mustering up the courage for what’s about to happen. It’s the realization that you know what you’re facing. You know you have to gather up all of your weapons so you can be armored up to fight for your very life.
I might be getting too melodramatic. I hope I’m making sense. They just put in the i.v. To my sheer horror, the nurse had to do it twice. I held my breath the whole time, but I got through it. I’m looking forward to some strong medications shortly. Maybe I’ll dream about dancing like I was in the picture. Maybe, I’ll dream about flawless boobs. Maybe I’ll dream about dancing, flawless boobs.