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?