In my terrified mind, this was the path to just getting my life back, as if those breast implants could be a talisman to ward off grief and pain.
Tag: double mastectomy
My ReBirth Day
The most outwardly feminine part of myself, I took to the altar and offered up to the gods. I bargained for my life. When I could finally form words into a semblance of prayer, it was “Take my breasts, but let me live to see my boy grow into a man. Please!” I was the… Continue reading My ReBirth Day
As Good as it Gets
Where have you gotten lost and given up hope? Perhaps that place is so small, so stuffed down that you have nearly forgotten it all together. You know it though, that twinge of sorrow or regret, a little sigh of "maybe tomorrow ". For me this came up in the form of, "This is as… Continue reading As Good as it Gets
The brain heals memories like scar tissue. Little pockets of betrayal, oozing pustules of heartbreak, shards of anger encapsulated, slowly covered up by a thin layer of skin and hardened there. If you’re lucky, if you massage the memory just a little but not too much, you’ll end up with a scar you can live… Continue reading Scar Tissue
Mostly I Feel Grateful
I manage with a healthy dose of denial. Don’t waste too much of your day fretting over what is further down the pike. Just get through today, chin up, with an occasional look down so you know where the next foot is landing. I knew this surgery was looming, and tried to brush off the… Continue reading Mostly I Feel Grateful
Pick me up Mommy!
Tell a Mom not to use her right arm. Tell this to a Mom with a 4 year old and watch her face. I am one of those people who is never content to do just one thing at a time. While the onions are sauteing, I can get the laundry going, start a fire,… Continue reading Pick me up Mommy!
Rights of the sick; Dying to Live
UPDATE, 2 weeks post surgery: I developed a fever of 102 from an infection, and felt like crap again for a few days. I learned that I actually had REFILLS on my antibiotics and should have remained on them for 3 weeks, not just 6 measly days. (Really wish the pharmacist or the doctors had… Continue reading Rights of the sick; Dying to Live