Getting Real

It's been a while since I've blogged....again. I've had a lot of progress with expansion in the last month, and some setbacks I wasn't quite expecting. Taking the advice of a wonderful friend who is also on this journey, I'm getting real with myself and plan to blog more. I will update everyone about the fills, aka expansion process, a little later. This blog entry is about bringing you up to date on my experience with the emotional side of a double mastectomy and reconstruction.

Let me preface this, like my friend did when she posted her similar experience, with saying that what you are about to read should not be misinterpreted as a pity party, a cry for help, me feeling sorry for myself or anything like that. Please understand that I am simply going to try to articulate some very real things that I have been processing over the last few weeks.

I have been told by countless people, friends, and family (whom I adore!), that I have been "so strong", "an inspiration", and "brave". While I appreciate these terms of endearment, I feel like I have purposely tried to project all those things outwardly. Inside however, unbeknownst to those closest to me, including my husband, I have been having lots of feelings that I didn't want anyone to know about. Hiding negative feelings is not a good thing at all. Hiding negative feelings for an extended amount of time can be even worse. I have been suppressing true, heartfelt issues since I was released from the hospital and the first bandages were removed.

I broke down last week after shutting down emotionally for a couple of days and finally told my husband, Ward, what was going on inside my head. Although he had a feeling of what was going on, I don't think he could've known what I really thought about my mastectomy and my body image. He even admitted that I had done a pretty good job of concealing my feelings. And believe me; I never intended to keep anything from this man. I felt that if I could just keep focusing on the positives, these negative things would resolve on their own. That was a mistake.

To be honest, some days it is very hard to look at the wreckage that is now my chest. You guys have seen the pictures that I've posted. Don't get me wrong, I'm SO VERY PLEASED WITH MY PROGRESS. I think the reconstruction is going great and I know that my ending result is going to be awesome. I trust Dr. Appel and I do think he is an extremely talented and caring plastic surgeon. I like the way I am filling out in my clothes and I really am excited about the end goal.

I know that my breasts don't define me. I know that I've been told many times I still look great. They're just boobs. I've told myself these things and other people have said these things, so I get it. But the reality of the situation is that my breasts are gone. My nipples are gone. Although I have temporary expanders placed within my chest muscles that are getting bigger each week, they look nothing like breasts when I get out of the shower. Rather, they are like lopsided, misshapen, hard shells that intrude into my personal space. They don't move at all. I mean, NOT a bit. My scars haven't faded a whole lot and since my complexion is so fair, they are still pretty red. So on top of these hard, misshapen mounds that sit on my chest, I have red horizontal scars that cover these imposter boobs fully. And no nipples. Although there are more and more moments during the day that I forget about the expander's presence, I'm aware of them every day. To say that this has been a big change physically and emotionally would be a gross understatement.

From the beginning of this whole thing, I was afraid of how I would feel when the mastectomy finally happened. Although I feel like I tried to process all of this even before surgery, there was no way to ever really prepare myself.

I was afraid of feeling like this, of hating the way I looked in the mirror. I was angry about being BRCA1+ and all the "female" anatomy parts that I have lost over the years. I'm always very compassionate with myself, something that I wasn't years before, but admitting this extreme sadness, dislike, and anger felt harsh. I want to be brave and strong and ok with all of this and it upset me greatly to think that maybe I wasn't.

I reached out to my friend Laura and we met for some coffee and dessert last week after my emotional fit. It was a huge relief to know that I wasn't crazy - she had a similar breakdown before Christmas. She understood everything I said....all the feelings I have, issues that I know I will have. I understood things she talked about. She helped me so much just by listening and then by telling me personal issues she has faced. I felt a real connection to her because we both have some adjusting to do in our new bodies.

She told me about free counseling services that are offered to cancer patients, current or former, as well as to their families through the Buddy Kemp Caring House in Charlotte. She suggested that I make an appointment, which I did.

I went to counseling yesterday and met an awesome lady that was very easy to talk to. Too bad I didn't recognize the stages of grief that I was experiencing over the loss of my breasts. It never occurred to me that I was experiencing that, but I did feel a lot better. So, in taking my friends advice, I'm planning on using the next couple of weeks to seek out more counseling and maybe even go to a few support group sessions that they offer in Charlotte. They are free and I think it will help me move through all of this in a healthier, more productive way.

It's such a weird thing to be in the middle of reconstructing your breasts. On one hand, I'm amazed at my progress through the last 2 months. I've had 2 surgeries and have begun having some volume again in my chest. It's truly awesome. My energy is coming back slowly but surely. My strength is also building through PT and daily stretching. The fills I have every week are fascinating to watch.

On the other hand, I am grieving my breasts. I am frustrated that I'm not released to return to work yet. I am annoyed at the pain I have in my left arm due to some scar tissue that's accumulated in one of my lymph drains and/or the pressure of the left expander and/or possible nerve damage (they still aren't too sure what's going on). I'm still doing PT twice a week and I'm still expanding. I have trouble sleeping at night because of the hard expanders...they don't move and side sleeping is a challenge.

Now I need to learn how to have all these feelings be heard and acknowledged. I need to focus on this and learn how to accept the new breasts that we are building. It's nice to have some direction in the midst of confusion and believe me, I'm ready to get real with all this and get through it.