Six days to go

Six more days of expander hell. The countdown has begun. So has the anxiety. Yet another surgery. Yet another anesthesia. Yet another 6 weeks of restricted activity.

By now, I know the drill. I know what to do in the days leading up to the surgery to prepare for the days just after. Even the anxiety feels familiar. Not quite like an old friend. But I recognize it.

Had my pre-op visit with the surgeon yesterday. A fairly upbeat conversation, we talked about implant sizes. He refuses to talk in terms of cup size, although that's the only way most of us know how to measure and think about breast size. He will take several different sizes of implants into the OR to see what works, but we'll probably end up with a size of about 600 cc. Which is a pretty healthy size - probably a c cup. 

We'll use Mentor brand high profile silicone implants. The surgeon reassured me they would not explode in the event of a car accident or plane crash. Not quite sure how that is supposed to be reassuring, but tact has never been one of his strong points.

He will also do some liposuction during the procedure to achieve some contouring and remove the love handles left on each side by the mastectomy. The lipo will probably cause more discomfort post-surgery than the implants. I'm loaded up with Vicodin and Oxycontin. Woo!

On Tuesday I'll be a new woman. Well, maybe not totally new but at least I'll have boobs that don't leave bruises and indents on the folks who are brave enough to hug me. A definite improvement. 

Punched in the soul

My oncologist made a comment to me recently about how awful my chemo regimen was. She said she knew when she prescribed it that it would kick my butt and "punch my soul". 

Likening my experience with chemo to being "punched in the soul" is so apt. I'm so glad she made that comparison because it allowed me to think of the experience as more than just months of nausea, no appetite, fatigue, and feeling icky every single day.

Chemo does indeed punch one in the soul. It takes everything you have - emotionally and physically - to deal with daily life on chemo.

I survived 4 months of the worst chemo protocol out there. Physically, I'm still wrangling with a few small side effects. I still can't feel my toes and I still have periods of serious fatigue. 

Emotionally, I'm just beginning to understand not only the toll that my experience took but also what it gave me. 

Strength. 

An updated priority list. 

A new attitude. 

A new appreciation for the little things.

A recovering soul.