Surgery Eve

Ok.....soooo......it's the night before surgery and all through the house, K is pacing and...well..... I am not even able to think coherently enough to make that rhyme!!!!!

To say I'm a bit rattled is the understatement of the year and yet, I really can't explain why!
I am not nervous per se....I have complete faith in my doctor and the rest of the medical team that everything will go smoothly tomorrow. I am not really all that worried about the pain because I know it will happen and I will take pills and then it will eventually go away, so ....eh. I am worried about the next few weeks and momentarily forgetting not to use my arms and hurting myself, but even that is really a minor worry, and if it gets that bad I will FORCE Ed to mummy wrap my arms so I can't do anything anyway and I'm totally serious about that. But most importantly, I have faith that God will be there for me no matter the outcome.

So why am I so rattled? I have wracked my brain and the only thing I can come up with is that I have had waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much time to think about this one....and....it is elective.

Granted, over the past three months I have come to realize that I really liked my boobs. I miss them. I even miss what they represent, ugh, I hate myself for feeling that way, but its true. Cancer totally sucked in so many ways but I think the most surprising to me was how much it robbed me of my sexuality. The chemo killed my hormones and hair and the cancer took my breasts. Even though the reason they exist on females is purely as a means of feeding offspring(which mine did wonderfully) that is not what they have come to symbolize in our society. And the worst part is that I considered myself so enlightened that I was above that. Not so. And so I am struggling with myself and my desire to have my boobs back even though they have fulfilled their biological usefulness since there will be no more mini-mes and therefore the fact that actually means I want them back because of how they make me look.

UGH......I HATE that I feel this way. Every feminista(is that a word?) fiber in my body is rebelling against these feelings and yet I am most definitely going under the knife tomorrow and nothing short of a blizzard will stop that(and yes, I did knock on wood after typing that since we all know how unpredictable St. Louis weather is!!!). So now I will wrestle with my inner turmoil...possibly for the rest of my life.

Really, really, really hate cancer.

Ok, enough....I am going to go have some chocolate now.

And really.....I will be fine, but thanks for listening(reading) and letting me express all my anxieties here, it really is excellent therapy:)

Blog y later-
K