I called old friends who I hadn’t talked to in a while; just in case.
I hugged my kids harder than usual.
I stared at my self in the mirror, and tried to imagine how my chest would look, afterwards.
I scanned the internet for pictures of mastectomies and stalked on-line chat rooms reading about complications that could happen in surgery.
I laid out my clothes for the morning drive to the hospital and packed my bag with the special bra they had given me to wear after the surgery, a shirt that buttoned in the front, and my fleece slippers.
I prayed to my Dad to keep me safe.
I wasn’t allowed to eat or drink anything after midnight.
I still thought that maybe it wasn’t really happening to me and that someone had made a terrible mistake.
Three years ago tonight, my life changed forever.
The night before is the worst!!!!!! The pre-op stuff is like having an out of body experience. I remember waking up afterwards and thinking how glad I was that it was over. But my life is forever changed. And not all of it for the worse. I now truly know that I can handle anything. I have a new “bring it” attitude. Thank you for sharing … you have no idea how deep your words touch me and many others.
I feel your loss of “life as you knew it”. Losing part of your body is unimaginable. But equally devastating is the loss of ignorant bliss one has before tragedy – this in of itself is a tremendous loss. Grasping at our “selfs” that once were never, ever to be regained.
I think of you often and your admirable strength. The way in which you chose to carry on. Need I mention PMC, road races, appendectomy…… craft fairs…… It inspires me to cope with what life dishes out to us and keep on going.
Hoping someday I’ll get my plump ass on a bike and join you.
Thanks for your words. You are so right about the ignorant bliss. You know that better than anyone and have suffered unimaginable loss. I would love to get your skinny ass on our team and ride with us for the PMC!