Here's a tip for anyone having an upper body surgery: do your sit-ups! You need your abdominal muscles and leg muscles (especially quads) to get yourself out of bed or off the couch. Even if you are 85 years old and have never done a sit-up or a squat in your life, talk to your doctor and find out how to do some exercises that will help you be a little more independent after your surgery. If you are reading this, you are already online, so look up some moderate, beginner exercises.

After my mastectomies, I was very grateful to my stomach and leg muscles for being able to propel me out of bed without a lot of dragging and pushing from others. It really helps to not have to wait for someone to help you go to the bathroom. These are things that your surgeon will never tell you. But I am!

I always cry when I get a shock. I cry if it's a good shock, like the time Alex told me that Daria was pregnant, or when I get a bad shock like the other night when I saw myself in the mirror for the first time since the surgery. I had been scrupulously avoiding mirrors but the bathroom mirror wasn't turned to the wall as usual. Fortunately, I didn't have my glasses on and my 20/400 vision doesn't allow for sharp details. What I saw in the mirror didn't register at first. You know, when you see something awful you go "What Is That?"? Then, I screamed and started to cry and sob and wail. Instead of luscious, creamy mounds I saw a concave chest with ugly, livid purple and brown slashes. There were nebulous bumps here and there as an added feature. It's not as if I didn't know that my breasts were missing - of course I did! But, to actually see it in the mirror was shocking. Poor David was trying to comfort me and hugged me which made me cry harder because there was nothing now between his chest and mine - just air! Oh, gosh, I felt so bad. I looked like an alien, a monster! I briefly considered that, if I took all my Imipramine and all of the Oxycodone pills I could probably die without feeling anything. I'd just go to sleep and all would be over. But then I realized I'm not made that way. I could never, ever do that to Olivia and David and my sister and brother and friends. Besides, I want my tombstone to say something other than "Here Lies Jane - She Died of Vanity"! Before I was all cried out I remembered that this was by far not the worst I've ever felt. Until age 38, I had undiagnosed clinical depression. It peaked at around age nineteen and then again at 32 or so. Those times were so scary. It was frightening how unrelentingly bad I felt. Most of the time, I lived in a dark empty hole. Figuratively, of course. Voices in my head kept me awake at night sometimes. Often, there was no pleasure in lots of normal things that people enjoy and no confidence in myself. Thank goodness for modern psychiatric chemistry. For almost twenty years now the depression has been at bay and life has been good.

I will get over myself and feel better about my appearance - sometime soon. Maybe, next year, I might be able to get some reconstructive surgery. Or maybe not. My life is precious and I am so glad that, even though I have had cancer, I will go on living for a long, long time!

I'm in a good, optimistic mood today. Although, I cried hard, like a baby, twice this past week, I'm feeling good. Today, the surgeon removed the last of my 5 drains. No more external body parts to sling around! Also, the surgeon confirmed for us that the pathology results were all negative. That means that all the tissue samples and lymph nodes that got sent to the lab during my surgery had no breast cancer cells! Wow! Feels so great!

On a darker note, I have yet to look at myself in the mirror. I also do not look down when I am naked. So, I don't know what my chest looks like after the bilateral mastectomy. Of course, I have a pretty good idea! I know there are no breasts and that there must be two wounds where they used to be. But, I just can't look yet. Weird, huh?

Went to the surgeon's office today for a post-op checkup. He (Dr Effron, Dr Fishel's associate) took out 3 of the 5 drains that I came home from the hospital with. He also changed the bandages and said that everything looks good. I was so happy to get those drains removed. Now I don't have to wear the fanny pack 24/7. I can tuck the remaining two drains in the cute lil pockets in the compression camisole. I can't complain because things are going so well but it sure will be nice to have all the drains gone and smaller bandages! Right now, it feels like I have on an uncomfortable article of clothing, like an uncomfortable bra or pants or a dress that's scratchy or maybe shoes that don't fit. You know how you can't wait to get home, or even just to the car, to rip off the offending item? That's kindof how it feels with the drains and bandages. But, they'll be gone soon!

My sister-in-law asked me tonight if I knew the result of the pathology yet. I had completely forgotten that I have pending news about that! Totally slipped my mind - I guess because I already know that I have cancer and I already know that some of it is still in a lymph node on the left side. The big question to be answered is whether there is a any disease on the right side. I'm thinking there isn't, so I guess I'm just not worried about that!

Yay! It's over! Now, instead of getting anxious about my surgery, I can get busy recovering. Well, not too busy because resting is one of the most important things I have to do. I have some pain but it's controlled very nicely

A common theme on this blog turns out to be the value of human connection. I believe that, to stay healthy in our mind, we need to work and we need to have meaningful interactions with other people. Whether you believe that evolution or Divine Creation has produced these basic needs for work and friends, I think they are essential to life. Case in point - I have been anxious this past 24 hours about my impending surgery. I wasn't able to sleep last night and couldn't stop thinking about it today. It's only natural, right? It's a big surgery and a lot is riding on success. Well, I just got back home from a visit with my good friend and voila! - I feel much better! Thanks, Di! We didn't really talk a whole lot about the surgery. We talked about our kids, our lives, books we're reading, etc. Just being out and having a face-to-face conversation with someone I care about was good medicine!

Flatland

The days are dwindling down to a precious few before Wednesday - surgery day. I have this feeling that, no matter how much I think about it, I'm not going to really know in advance what my reaction will be to having no breasts. I'm not afraid of the surgery itself. I'm sure I'll wake up and be OK and I'll recover just fine. And I have so much wonderful support in my family and friends. Nobody can prepare me, though, for having a flat chest. No breast tissue, no nipples, no nothing except a flap of skin that we might use later for reconstruction. Ugh! Our image of the female body always includes a bust of one kind or another. I might feel less than female. But I also might feel just fine about it. Especially after the shock of seeing my new chest for the first time wears off. I also have a fantastic husband. I am extremely luck to have David. He's already told me that it won't make any difference to him as long as I'm alive and healthy. That's really the whole point, isn't it?