It is through a roller coaster of emotions that I ride to the hospital this morning. Saying goodbye to all my bras that have served me well over the last 33 years (figuratively, obviously they’re not the same ones.. GROSS!)
The decision to finally have my Pofalactic Billateral Mastectomy without Reconstruction was not an easy one to make. It included many years of therapy, 6 1/2 years living with the knowledge of my BRCA-1+ diagnosis, and a lot of opinions and input from everyone in my life and others who have fought the fight either against breast cancer, or to avoid the very high risk that us BRCAteers have.
While I might put on a happy face and prance around like a brave warrior woman (pretty sure brave warrior women don’t prance) inside I’m crying. Hell, even outside I’m crying sometimes, just preferably not in public..
So, in a few hours I’m gonna be FLAT! Which would be a first for me since 3rd grade! I hope I come out of seurgery (not puking) feeling relieved and empowered to continue on without the looming fear that “this could be the day I have breast cancer”. Or crack another joke like “yea, if I live that long”..
I intended on taking all these amazingly whimsical “before photos” at the beach and when I got there I felt everything except whimsical.. It could’ve been the 20 somethings with their cheekies in the sand taking pics for their insta-fame and 4 billion followers, but it was a feeling. A feeling that maybe I wouldn’t want to look back at myself looking whimisical on the beach WITH boobs. No, I think I’d rather look forward to looking strong and brave on the beach without boobs!
So with that being said, it’s only gonna get harder before it gets any easier, however, once I’m in it I have no notice but to navigate through it. So dang it, that’s what I’m gonna do! Which me luck!
