Wednesday morning I noticed I sprung a leak in my left expander. The reason I know this is that it no longer felt like a coconut and was ever so slightly squishy. I went in to see The Boob Whisperer and he confirmed my fear and said we should probably bump up my implant exchange surgery to the next day. The danger in waiting until the 8th, the original date, was that there was no way to know if I would lose some of the expansion on that side. It was already starting to look somewhat deflated so I was freaking out. I was thinking, shit by Tuesday I’m going to be monoboobular and I’m going to need some strategic wardrobe planning. The other concern I had was that Monday and Tuesday I had been a bit coughy and sniffly but by Wednesday afternoon I was pretty much back to 100%. So Thursday was the third and (hopefully FINAL) operation in The Great Breast Quest of 2016. I know however, with breast reconstruction there is a good chance I may need some “adjustments.” I’m wrapped in bandages until Monday so I can’t see them yet. My hope is that they just look as symmetrical as possible. I am not expecting perfection. It’s strange not to have my coconuts anymore after having them for seven months. The pain I have now after surgery is different from the expanders, more bruisy and less flesh-being-peeled-away-from-my-body burning sensation. I can’t shower on my upper body so Tomas put the detachable shower head/hose back so I can at least half-shower. I can’t drive until Tuesday either so I feel trapped. There’s not anywhere I’m really anxious to go but it’s the knowing I can’t if I wanted to unless someone drives me.
I once thought that after I was through with treatment my thoughts of cancer and the fear of it returning would subside. That didn’t happen. Then I thought, okay maybe after the reconstruction process. I don’t see that happening either. The scars are there every day to remind me. My hope is that one day it won’t be my first thought when I wake up and the last thought before I fall asleep. One thing I’ve learned from reading survivor stories from women who are several years out from their diagnosis is that it never totally leaves you. You just learn to live with it. I once thought that it wouldn’t be possible, that I would need some kind of vampire mind control trick, now I just hope it will get easier as I get farther away from it and learn to live my life again.