When I planned for the seven weeks of leave that my bilateral mastectomy would require, I made a list of things I hoped to accomplish during this time. Here they are, in no particular order:
- Watch the first three seasons of the show everyone is talking about, Downtown Abbey
- Learn the words to every John Mayer song
- Finish writing my current Work in Progress
- Finish final edits on my debut novel, and seek out beta readers
- Receive fluffy kitten and a unicorn
What I didn’t count on was the reality of the toll such a major surgery would take on my body.
And why would I? I mean, I do cross-fit twice a week, I run and do yoga. I’d bounce back from this quickly, right?
Um, yeah, about that.
What I didn’t count on was the pain that redefined the 1 through 10 pain scale. What I used to think of a 7 or 8 now has new perspective. On day 2 I felt pain that was off the charts even after an injection of Dilaudid and two tablets of Percocet.
Another thing I didn’t count on was the emotional outbursts. On Day 5, over a bowl of Greek yogurt and fruit I began to sob for no apparent reason. I’ve had several of these crying jags and now no longer question them.
Maybe it’s all just a part of the process of accepting that my life has been forever changed. And so has my body.
One day soon, after a second surgery, I’ll have beautiful, perky breasts but right now I have lumpy, bumpy bruised clumps where my breasts used to be. Touching them freaks me out. Looking at them makes me cry again.
And the last thing I hadn’t counted on was being possessed by Zombies. They let you think you’re in control but I’m on to them now. They’re sneaky little devils who turn your mind to mush, make you drool and cause you to wreak untold havoc on the world when you’re asleep. And despite the fact that I’ve been off the narcotic since Day 5, they’re still working their evil.
For example, I’ve watched the first episode of Downtown Abbey no less than seven times. The first three times was because I didn’t remember having watched it already. The next four times was because the characters, the setting and the storyline changed every single time I watched it. I’m SERIOUS!
What has helped is the love and support from all of you. I cannot express how much it helps to know that there are people out there—plenty of whom I’ve never even met—who have stopped by my website or sent a Tweet or FB Message to let me know they are thinking about me. *being crying jag* Please, keep them coming. My husband and my sister, Pamela, have done a wonderful job caring for me, and I love them dearly for it. But your messages mean a lot. Especially since it doesn’t seem that I’m going to receive my fluffy kitten or a unicorn. *resuming crying jag*
Update: This is a repost from 2013. I’m happy to report that I did in fact receive an ample supply of unicorns and one fluffy kitten.