Had to Cry Today

I had a good cry. Sobbing. It felt good. It was another layer of grieving the loss of my breasts.

It started with a dream I had where a man, a lover, was touching my scars with gentleness and fondness for me. I became aware again of what I'm missing and how this whole horrible surgery thing really effected me on a deep level. Not only did I lose body parts that meant a lot to me as a nurturer and as a mother but I lost parts that made me feel attractive, sexy, intriguing and alluring. Not to mention the hair loss which also factors in.

Really I've been "powering through" since the surgery and trying to maintain my composure and trying to accept myself as I am. So it felt nice to be able to instead, let down and cry about it all again. Crying brings me more into reality than just pushing myself forward and trying to keep myself focused on the positive.

When I decided to get my breasts removed, it was a decision based on fear. I didn't want those time bombs on my chest. It was also something that my doctors encouraged - especially for the left side. But I couldn't imagine being one-breasted and then worrying about the time-bomb factor with the other side since there had already been a nodule there. What I did was tell myself, well, you won't have breasts anymore but you also won't ever have those sores underneath them after a hot day and you will be able to go bra-less. It will be freeing.

But it's not freeing when you have to wear falsies and put them into a bra or camisole every morning and take them out again and place them into their boxes to sleep at night. They have their own little cradles to keep them in shape. When it's hot outside or I'm just wanting to feel free - like I thought I'd be able to do after the surgery - I can't because then I feel ugly.

When I'm not wearing the falsies, I look in the mirror and hate what I see. My chest looks concave and my belly is round. I don't feel attractive at all. So I feel bound to having wear the falsies to feel good about myself.

This week I listened to a podcast about our relationship with money by Morgana Rae where she talked about your "money monster". Her point is that if you want to heal your relationship with money, you need to look at money as a person you are in a relationship with. My money monster doesn't think anything I do is good enough to get paid for. It's never satisfied with me and is withholding. It also believes that I have to work really hard at something I don't like doing in order to get what I want. It's a man who's old and balding and really skinny with a pointed nose and a pinched face. He's always critical of me - I never do enough or anything well enough.

Morgana says you need to divorce your money monster and get rid of him. Then you need to create your "money honey".

Well, I had great fun with that. My money honey is younger than me, looks really yummy and thinks I'm just the most beautiful, alluring and sexy woman in the entire universe. My money honey thinks I'm hot. My money honey even likes my scars. They're a turn on for him!

I was shocked! How could you like that? But as the dialog continued, I realized where I am headed in the direction of self-love. The appreciation I need to have for myself goes way deeper than my appearance and my looks. My money honey loves those scars, they remind him of the depth of who I am and the beauty of what I've gone through.

I'm still playing around with this and find it entirely enjoyable. He's with me a lot and I ask him for his opinion about choices I'm making. And he's so great, I'll do anything to keep him happy. But it's confusing to me when he says he just wants me to be happy, but he was happy when I was sobbing today. So I'm still in dialog and trying to understand it.

The happier I am, the more I shine with the depth of who I am. But if I'm sad or mad or otherwise upset, he loves me just the same - as long as I stay on my own side. He's with me when I can love myself no matter what I do or how I feel. He's unconditional.

One thing I'm doing better these days is speaking my mind with people I interact with. I'm doing better at standing up for myself and even knowing that I need to, whereas before, I was unaware that I even needed to. Normally I just clammed up and resented the person who hurt me rather than stand up for myself and ask for what I want.

Geoff and I went out for a delicious lunch today at Hawg's for our 21st anniversary. I loved the food and the conversation was really important. I enjoyed every bit of the conversation even though all we talked about was this past year and how it's effected us.

On to better and better years together. May this past year only bring us closer together.

My deck should be enclosed by next week and I can't wait to share photos.

I've Got Boobies!!!!

I'm so happy. I didn't realize how much I'd missed having breasts until I went today and tried on some prostheses. Wow! I started to tear up when I felt one in my hand. I hadn't had that feeling in my hand for a long time! They felt so real.

It's crazy. Never before did I ever care about my breasts or think twice about anyone else's. But since being diagnosed, I see breasts everywhere. At first I felt a longing and a sadness just watching TV...cleavage all over the place. Mine were going to be taken from me and I didn't understand the depth of what they meant to me. I do miss them in many ways.

I can't stand to see cleavage these days. It seems like it's the style now - more than it has ever been before. But is it more the style now or is it just that now I'm noticing it more? I never really liked seeing cleavage and only showed my own on wedding day - though I regretted it ever since. Maybe I'm just a prude but it always bothered me to see other women's breasts sticking out of their clothing. It's like, hey, I wasn't interested in what your body looks like, so excuse me, but keep them to yourself!

Now I realize there was something of some jealousy there. Occasionally, I would enjoy seeing cleavage and thought it made someone look more beautiful. So I think I was just jealous and wanted to look as good and knew that I couldn't - or thought that I couldn't. Or maybe I just wouldn't do that to look better...

Wanting breasts is all very new to me...at least consciously. Maybe once I started developing, I never felt the need to want them. They grew and they made me feel beautiful and so I never needed to long for them. I'm realizing how it must feel for women who don't have large ones. Maybe they always feel a longing of some sort. Maybe they always feeling less than.

Beauty is such a weird thing and women have to deal with so much pressure on that front.

Anyway, I'm happy because I don't feel trapped anymore. I don't have to put up with the aftermath of breast canSer as much now. My hair growth isn't controllable but looking busty is.

Someone told me this week that she was so angry after being diagnosed, that she went to yard sales buying plates just so she could break them. She'd have a breaking plates fest and get all her anger out. After it was over, sweeping it all up and throwing it out had a healing effect on her too.

I couldn't relate to the anger part. I don't think I've felt the anger yet. Instead I mostly feel frustrated and trapped in this predicament - mostly just not liking the short hair and the flat chest and the constant worries about recurrence, diet, exercise, ct scans, etc. Instead of anger, guilt hit me hard at the beginning, so maybe I turned the anger inward. I know I gave G-d the cold shoulder which could be as far as I get to expressing anger...of course, Geoff would disagree with that.

The anger will probably come with time since I never thought I'd be happy getting prostheses and look at me now. I'm even wearing them in this hot weather we're having today...but then again, it's just my first day and I can't wait for the kids to get home from school to see the old me! Aimee can put her head on my chest again!

Clearing Out

The radiation continues and I guess I'm 6 or 7 weeks post-surgery. My energy continues to be good and so is my outlook/perspective. Tomorrow's day 10 of the radiation and I'm starting to get red - especially under the arm. The doc told me they are especially targeting the lymph nodes there on my left side. I'm still pretty numb for a good 2 inches on either side of the scar which extends across my chest from under one armpit to the other. I wonder how much feeling will end up coming back.

I find myself wanting to clean out every nook and cranny in my house. I guess that tells you how my energy levels are doing. But I wonder if this desire for clearing out is simply a parallel healing that's going on in my psyche. The radiation is clearing out every last bit of disease and I'm wanting to clear out every closet, drawer and cupboard in my house. Interesting isn't it?

I am a pack rat and it takes me forever to clear out and let go of stuff. Going through my closet today, I cleared out 3 bags of clothes to donate and 2 bags of clothes and shoes to throw away - they were worn to their last threads. I guess I save my husband money on clothes even if I need to spend it on health.

I'm also finding myself wanting to clear out my negative emotions. My anger has been a problem over the years. It's not that I lash out at people, but I stew and can be snippy with Geoff. And not very supportive. I'll never forget the comment that the director of Jason's co-op preschool told me once: "We are better at being mothers than we are at being wives."

I know that my anger is really about my own martyr complex. If I don't do what I want to do and don't take care of myself the way I need to do, I will tend to blame it on others. It's been a lifelong pattern that I want to clear out so that I can communicate in a healthy way - with power, rather than as a victim. Standing up for myself and what I want in life can be done cleanly and without anger, fear or other people's permission and agreement.

Life goes so much more smoothly when I just do what I need to do for myself and not worry about what others think...Like going hatless! And flat-chested...

I did have a dream one night last week about wishing I still had breasts. It was about wanting to have sex appeal. I was even contemplating reconstruction in the dream. I suppose my psyche needs to go there to sort all this through. Maybe one day I'll want to wear prostheses. Who knows. But right now, I'm happy wearing nothing...especially these days while my skin is turning red.

I've got about an inch of hair all over my head. It still looks like a haircut no woman in her right mind would get - just too short. But everyone says I look cute.

I'm eating a lot of my sugarless chocolate these days and worrying about my tummy getting bigger and bigger. Being flat doesn't hide that one. And I'm wondering if those last dying canser cells are crying out for sugar-fuel even more now that they know the jig is up. The end is near and they don't like it.

But here's the recipe: melt unsweetened chocolate in a pan on a low flame and add some coconut oil. Add stevia and a bit of agave. Once it's all melted you can do one of three different things:
1. Add nuts and/or unsweetened rice crispies. Pour it into a mold over waxed paper and put it in the frig to be cut into pieces once a bar again - ta da! you've got bites of a chocolate bar!
2. Add peanut butter and some nuts and some oats. Drop by spoonfuls over wax paper and refrigerate. You've got yourself something pretty close to fudge.
3. Freeze 1/4s or 1/3s of banana on a toothpick and then roll each into the melted chocolate and you've got yourself a chocolate covered Popsicle.

Those darn cells won't get any fuel this way and I will still get my chocolate! Die you freaks of nature!

I'll just have to dance more to get rid of the round tummy.

Hope you have a Happy Father's Day.

Getting Ready for Last Chemo

I need to clear off my desk today and am finding lots of other distracting things to do like this update and putting up the photos of my Grabelle side of the family. Mom just went back home today which makes it appropriate to post her side of the family. We had a great time with her and it was really nice to spend it with her all by herself.

Jason enjoyed laughing with his grandma about the show, "The Office" which they both love. Both Aimee and Jason got to buy some new clothes. We all enjoyed Greek food, seafood, and Thai food. Jason and Aimee went out to the movies with Grandma while I saw my clients. And Geoff and I got to have good conversations with her. She left with a smaller bank account but her cup full of my family.

The topic of mastectomy without reconstruction is an ongoing theme in my life these days. I thoroughly explored that "sentenced2live" website with the photos. She's some woman. If you try to find photos of the result of this surgery online, you won't find anything with a face on it. She was determined to make that change and wrote that when she was taking those photos on the beach, the lifeguard drove around her several times trying to decide whether to tell her to put a shirt on or not!

Seeing her photos of before and immediately after the surgery along with her 4 years later on the beach were very empowering as well. I know I'm not going to be as beautiful, shapely or young as she is, but her photos gave me the thought that I might not be so hideous as I thought I'd be. And I've been posing in front of the mirror, lifting them up and covering them to see just what it will look like.

I don't want to go through any more surgeries so I thank you all for not trying to convince me to have reconstruction. My mom proposed the question: if Geoff died, G-d forbid, would I want to look good (have reconstruction) in order to attract another husband? I said, if he was gone, I'd rather live alone than remarry! And if I change my mind, I would hope that whoever I was attracted to would accept me as I am! And I do know someone who did find someone just like that...

Anyway, if I ever change my mind down the road, the reconstruction doesn't include silicone-filled bags inside your body. It includes a big surgery that would actually work much better since it includes using your own body to make fake breasts. And they use your belly fat! Wouldn't that be nice to get rid of?
But they also take skin from your sides and maybe your back and your belly - it can take 8-12 hours of surgery or more. It doesn't sound like the easiest thing to recover from and besides, you still have to get tatoos for nipples and still have completely lost any feeling and prevent yourself from being able to easily feel a recurrence if it ever happened. So no thanks.

I went to Horsnyders and got a camisole with cotton-pillow-fake-breasts. I also got arm sleeves to prevent Lympedema - to be worn after surgery. When I fully recover from the surgery, I'll go back there and get some real prostheses which my insurance will cover. Who knows if I'll wear them or what I'll eventually do. I never thought I'd wear a wig and look at me now. I've been wearing one all day for the past 3.

My hair's coming back in. I've got a 1/4 inch layer all over my head. My eyebrows are starting to come back in too. One day all this will be a memory. The end is coming soon. I just hope I don't mentally go back to my old self and instead bring what I've learned forward with me. It's a windy, but sunny day today (oh, maybe I just had allergies and not a cold!) and I look forward to completing my last chemo on Wednesday and starting the last difficult part of this whole experience.

My visualization cd is helping me prepare by visualizing those competent people who will help and assist in the surgery, seeing my body cooperate fully by hardly bleeding at all and recovering and healing quickly and easily. I'm reading a book called, "Prepare for Surgery, Heal Faster" subtitled, "A Guide of Mind-Body Techniques" by Peggy Huddleston. It's giving me lots of new insights.

One of the new insights has to do with saying goodbye to this part of my body. I really understood what my breasts represented to me after reading this book while waiting in the car for Mom & the kids to shop. My breasts represent the part of me that gives and gives to others without thinking about what I need for myself. This also means they represent my difficulty in saying no and setting limits when I feel like I need to be there for someone else. They are very happy to be released from those obligations and I'm so ready to let those ways of being go. I'm exhausted and depleted from that stuff. I'm over it. I'm grateful that I can allow a body part to represent that for me because it's the ultimate in letting go rituals.

I appreciate having had the willingness to nurse Aimee until she was 3. I appreciate having a personality that is so able to be there so completely for others in a nurturing way. It's one of my strengths as a therapist. And I appreciate the recognition that part of my healing is to be there as completely for myself. And it's definitely a communication learning experience for me to be honest and say no and yet stay connected to people.

(My personality type on the Enneagram is #9 which you can read more about here. It's a fun system and you can learn more about your own type too. I use this system in my practice. If

you go there, let me know what you think your type is.)

Ok, on to cleaning off my desk and the last week that's the beginning of the end of this chapter of my life.