Bionic Boobs and How I Lost My Mojo

Dr. Evil strikes again.
Dr. Evil strikes again.

Last weekend I was at a board meeting for my local RWA (Romance Writers of America) chapter, and afterward, one of the women asked if I was excited about my upcoming surgery (the final surgery in the mastectomy/reconstruction process). Another friend chimed in and said, “yeah, you’ll have bionic boobs afterward, what fun!”

The truth is, I have the bionic boobs now. This Thursday I’ll be trading them in for real boobs. Well, as close to real as you can get when you actually have no real boobs left. And I will gladly say goodbye to the bionic ones. They are not all they’re cracked up to be.

In terms of the excitement part of the question, I guess I am pretty excited about it. At least, as excited as I can be considering I haven’t felt real excitement about anything since my whole journey began last April. And why is that?

It’s because someone stole my Mojo.

Seriously, now that I think about it, I’m convinced that someone has been sneaking into my room at night and syphoning it off, little by little.

And who might that someone be? Well, he’d have to be small enough so that my dogs wouldn’t see him, Evil enough to actually steal someone’s Mojo, and clever enough to take just enough each time that I wouldn’t miss it until sometime down the road.

And then, when I thought about this I knew, without a doubt, who it was:

Mojo Mini Me

But seriously. I keep telling myself that I was lucky. That my stage .5 breast cancer diagnosis could have been so much worse. That I didn’t have to have chemo or radiation or both. And it’s true. All of it is true. But it’s also true that having a bilateral mastectomy is a major life event for any woman, regardless of the circumstances. That it takes its toll on you physically, mentally and emotionally. And there is no getting around it. It zaps you of your Mojo. And I’m tired of trying to convince myself otherwise.

I’ve been crankier than normal for some time now. Have reacted to situations in ways I never would normally. Have felt devoid of the joy I used to feel in my everyday life. And until my Mojo returns—and I know it will—I’m going to stop expecting so much from myself. Stop pretending that I’m fine when I’m not. Allow myself to say that what happened to me sucks because it does. It really sucks.

What about you? What struggles have worn you down, and how did you pick yourself back up and move back into the land of the living?

Repost from January 21, 2014

6 comments on… “Bionic Boobs and How I Lost My Mojo”

  1. Great self-reflection, Suzanne! There’s no need to apologize for being cranky about this. It DOES suck!

    Frankly, I get the same way about weight loss. I struggle with this everyday, and it’s been this way for the past 50 years. It’s never been easy, never been a no-brainer, never been anything less than a battle of monumental proportions. No amount of self-talk to make it anything else works. I’ve tried therapy, groups, even clinical hypnotherapy! (The last didn’t help with weight loss, but did great things for stress management and my writing creativity!) And it wasn’t until about 3 years ago that I learned why physiologically there’s a reason I’ve struggled – and probably always will.

    So maybe, for some things, we just need to say IT SUCKS and stop apologizing!

    Hugs, my friend! Looking forward to meeting the new girls! 🙂

    Yvonne

  2. I wonder if I accidentally took your Mojo home with me in that last visit sister! I’ll be there to visit soon, I’ll try to bring it along!
    Seriously, I didn’t know it then but I’m sure I struggled with similar issues in my year of dealing with breast cancer. I do think it’s (our Mojo) always there, we just don’t recognize it because We are changed by what’s happened to us. Time does seen to help. And of course the love and support of friends and family. Which I feel we are rich in… Love you sister!

  3. I usually just stay away from my normal routine for a while. I go home and do nothing, instead of cooking or cleaning or writing. Instead of reading, I’ll watch t.v. or just go to bed. Instead of cleaning house I go wine tasting. Eventually I start to miss the things I normally do – my routine.

    Your mojo will be back, better, stronger, faster than it was before. Sometimes mojo needs a vacation, too.

    Hang in there. Life is still good and now you’ll have new boobs. Not everyone can say that.

    Patricia Rickrode
    w/a Jansen Schmidt

  4. I suppose who stole my mojo will not be a surprise to anyone here – when my daughter died, part of me went with her and it took a long time and a movie with Gerard Butler in it to start drawing me out the dark. This year, after 11 years of not doing well at Christmas, I finally didn’t have a black day and it felt so rejuvinating to know I may finally be healing. Everyone heals in their own time. Luckily for writers, having writers as friends is the best kind of being pulled from losing one’s mojo…they know and understand emotions and I know they brought me back to life and I will forever be grateful to them, and my addiction Gerry Butler for helping to smile again.

    Huggles to you, Suzanne.

  5. What an honest post, Suzanne. It’s hard to admit when we’re having hard times. I think I went into some denial when my dad died, although I thought I was doing just fine. But when things in my life started piling up all around me, I realized I needed a bit more time to recuperate. And that’s okay. We’re all allowed to take as much time as we need to get our mojo back. You’ll get yours back some extra to spare, I’m sure. It just might take longer than you expected. You know, I really appreciate how open you are about all this. That, in itself, must be tremendously helpful. Love you!

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