(Warning...this post has a photo of my reconstructed breasts, freak out and run away or just go with it.)
Tuesday was reminiscent of Melbourne's weather, several seasons in a day.
Our household has been hit with another flu...5th one of the season. After a sleepless night playing Florence Nightingale to two little boys with a croupy bark, I woke up feeling very ordinary indeed. Blah!
I stumbled through the morning with a bored threenager who was well and truly over hearing the "Mummy has a sore booby and needs to take it easy" line whenever he demanded I run/jump/wrestle/anything. I felt guilty that I spent so much time on the couch while he entertained himself.
That was the Bad.
...my check up with my surgeon at Calvary.
I took both boys with me, it was pouring rain and I was dreading the logistics of finding a carpark and somehow getting a sleeping Jack into the pram without both of us getting sodden in the process. But the parking fairy was kind, I managed to get a celebrity car park right near the entrance and the rain eased up for me just enough to load Jack into the pram. Huzzah! That never happens, totally scored right there folks, no cruising the carpark for half an hour desperately hoping for someone to leave. No turning up to the clinic looking like drowned rats.
My surgeon is happy with how my newest reconstruction is settling in and gave the excellent news that the pathology was entirely clear. No rogue cancer cells hidden in the tissue from my healthy breast.
Bring out the Moet...let's get those champagne flutes clinking!
We discussed re-doing my left side which has suffered more radiation damage since my review in February. The internal scarring has caused the skin to contract onto the implant making it look small and misshapen. Both implants are the same size but my left breast looks half the size of the right.
So...it turns out that I haven't finished yet. I'll see my surgeon again next February for another review then sometime next year I'll be going back to have the left implant and scar tissue replaced with a new implant which will be "plumped up" with some fat liposuctioned from my tummy. The plumped up business is to give the left side a little bit of cushioning. At the moment it is rock hard whereas the right side is somewhat softer and feels slightly normal. It will be a similar surgery to what I've just had and involve the same kind of recovery timeframe.
I'm glad that I have the opportunity to "repair" the left side. Initially when I realised last week that my breasts weren't going to even up I told myself I should just appreciate being alive and accept my reconstructed boobs as they were. Be grateful Em, don't let vanity draw this out any longer. Don't be greedy and want too much.
Then, after a bit of thought, I realised that I have absolutely no reason to feel guilty about getting my damaged breast fixed up. I think I've put in enough hard yards over the last 20 months to deserve an even set if its being offered to me. It's hard enough to feel good about your body after it's been brutally thrashed by cancer treatment. If this makes me feel more comfortable in my 'new' skin then I'm willing to give it a go.
And now, The Very, Very Ugly...
...Bad Mummy accidently dropped the boys iPad onto the ground as I transferred my handbag to the car after the appointment. Poor Harry howled in despair crying, "That's it, that's the end, it's all over!". Jack meanwhile was growling "NAUGHTY Mummy" over and over again. That will teach me to forget the cover. A rather expensive lesson and one the boys won't let me forget any time soon.
Sheesh, what a day!