BOOBLESS

I am now less than one month away from the end of my 6 month post-radiation healing window, which means in less than 30 days, I can technically have my reconstruction surgery done. I never thought I was going to make it this far. Looking in the mirror after my mastectomy, I never thought I would make it one week with only one breast, let alone six months.

I am 34 years old. My higher brain knows that I am a great, complete package and that I am more than the sum of my collective parts. Being honest with myself, however, I realize I am at that age, that brief time where things are at their pinnacle, right before they start to topple over THAT hill. Breast cancer threw a serious monkey wrench into the works for me. Cancer treatments seem to attack everything that are external symbols of health, well-being, and beauty. Chemotherapy took all my hair (head, brows and lashes, even body hair) and turned my nails, gums and tongue black. Radiation burned and peeled off my skin, leaving a dark, mottled scar. The mastectomy was the worst of all for me, though. In time, my hair grew back and my nails, gums and tongue returned to their pleasing pink hues. My radiation-burned skin healed, and the dark burn area has begun to fade. But my breast is still gone. The scar looks much better than it used to (thanks to a great surgeon and the radiation therapy, I've been told), but my breast is still gone. The mammary gland that once proudly nourished my two children is no longer there. I feel like half a woman. My higher brain knows that I should be thankful for just being here, now, cancer-free, and I am. With the help of my prosthesis, I can get through a work day without feeling self-conscious, and that is a great escape for me. But every night when I get undressed and I look in the mirror, I am reminded of all of my feelings of inadequacy. Let's face it, in the society we live in, women are expected to look a certain way. Mostly everywhere you look is pressure to uphold that image. Walking around with one breast isn't acceptable in "normal" society and I am not comfortable with it, so you would think that with my reconstruction clearance date approaching, I'd be overjoyed... but frankly, I am scared.

The idea of reconstruction is so... permanent. I am afraid of not being pleased with the results. I am not sure if I want to "go larger" (as I had originally planned) or stay the same size as I was. I am not sure if I should have a prophylactic mastectomy of my remaining breast and reconstruct both, or if I should just reconstruct the left. I am slowly realizing that, although I am past the urgent fear of dying, I still have SO MUCH MORE to deal with on this journey. I have already consulted one plastic surgeon, and am waiting to consult with another. First, before any decisions are made, I will have to have genetic testing to find if I am genetically predisposed to breast cancer. The result of that testing will make it easier to decide whether or not to have my right breast removed as well. So many things to do... I might as well get started right now.