Lost and Found

Some decisions you make in life end up resulting in unexpected trials and tribulations. Things you never thought of, some serious, some just plain ridiculous, become reality.  This fact is very true with some decisions made during breast cancer.  “A Day in the Life of” becomes a staple statement for me when telling people about my new life post breast cancer.

Once I was diagnosed, things moved quickly to get treatment started. I met with the surgeon to talk about and schedule my second surgery after a failed lumpectomy. I knew that my left breast would have to be removed. The surgeon wanted to try to save my right breast and just try to remove more tissue hoping to get a clear margin. I just looked at him and said, “Really, you want to try to leave me with a half a boob? Why bother! Just take it all off.”  After that statement, the conversation moved to reconstruction. Much to his dismay I decided not to reconstruct and go flat. I had heard too many horror stories, including one from my sister about her reconstruction. I just wasn’t interested in expanders, “fill-ups”, another surgery after radiation, and knowing how my brain works… constantly worrying about the implants and what effect they may be having on my body. It was just easier to bypass all that. So, I got breast prosthesis or “foobs” as they are called. Little did I know the issues they would bring.

For example, I had a real dilemma one morning. The alarm went off, I got up and picked out my clothes. I went to my dresser to get out my foobs and they weren’t in there?!?! My bra was, but since I must insert my foobs to whatever bra I decide to wear, they are pretty nomadic. What the crap?? Where are my foobs?? I looked under the bed, in the hamper, in my gym bag, in the closet, under the covers of the bed, under the bed, in my other bras. I knew they warned me about “chemo brain” but really, losing such a stupid thing as fake boobs? What do I have to look forward to in the coming years if this is the way it goes?  Immediately I thought of the saying “I would lose my head if it wasn’t attached.” Well, for me it was “lose my foobs when they aren’t attached!”

I finally gave up and took a shower. Well, I guess it will be a flat day. At the time, I wore my foobs every day, three years later, I hardly ever wear them. I wasn’t as comfortable not wearing them at that point in time, especially to work. Plus, I am extremely anal and things like that bother me. You can ask my kids or coworkers and they will tell you it is true.  I would have been thinking about it all day trying to figure out where they could have disappeared to. One final look… and I found them! They were in my pajama drawer which is below the drawer where my bras/panties and my various foobs are located. I have no idea how they got there but I breathed a big sigh of relief.  After all that, I thought about getting one of those cube trackers that you use for locating lost keys so I just hit a button and track them with a GPS app. LOL

Ah, the life of a breast cancer survivor…. this is what I am reduced to. I was able to avert this particular mini-crisis and go on with my day, but more moments like this were to come. I never thought I would get to a stage in my recovery when I could laugh abouhidden foobst such incidents. Some days are still harder than others for me but they are slowly becoming fewer and far between.  Now I am gradually getting more accepting of my body, what I lost and the way it looks, scars and all. I haven’t dug out those foobs in over a year. I even moved them to another drawer away from my bra/panties drawer since I don’t wear them.

I just hope I remember where I moved them to next time I decide to wear them, so I don’t have to go through that frustration all over again!

Hugs!

 

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