Well, I am almost three weeks out of surgery and slowly starting to feel like myself again. Myself with rock hard boobs the size of 7th graders. It’s cool, I am learning to get used to this size and can’t say I hate it. The problem is that when I eat a lot of bread, my boobs are smaller than my belly! I also walked into a door jamb yesterday (seriously) and didn’t feel it. Numb boobs and all.
I was in a pretty bad depression for about a week or so after surgery, and just couldn’t shake the funk. I saw my therapist, spoke to friends, hid in corners. I did all that. All that helped me was to finally get back in to the swing of things, meaning life. It felt good to get dressed, put on real clothes and not sweats (as I sit here typing in sweatpants and a sweatshirt) and some makeup. My hair, well we know how that goes. I am getting my first haircut this week though, pray for me.
It also helped to start driving again and taking Asher to school. I liked seeing my friends, I liked making lunch and being “normal” again. I was just telling my friends, the scariest part is the first step of doing things you used to do. Once you are capable of driving, or knowing that you can get dressed the rest is up to you. Now I know that I can do things again it makes life that much more normal.
I had a visit from my Triple C friends today, the last of us goes in on Friday for her surgery. We all made it through chemo and all had wonderful responses to treatment! That’s the best news anyone could ask for! We also passed along the Sisterhood of the Traveling Robe today. She will be the last of us to use it and hopefully never have to pass it along to anyone else. Perhaps we have a ceremony and burn it.
Otherwise, I am healing nicely and don’t have much pain anymore. It has become much more tolerable than the first week and a half. I can actually sleep on my side again and move my arms higher than I expected. Just this morning, while reaching for Asher’s lunchbox he said to me “Good job mommy, you reached so high!” I have my own cheering section living with me.
One day at a time, one arm at a time.