Prepping and the countdown have begun for the hopefully last breast surgery in my lifetime. One can wish, right? This time for both breasts. A silicone implant will replace the expander in the right and the left will be made to look more like the new right (as in higher and perkier. Oh absolute joy!)
I have got "the call" from the PG hospital with the 100 questions on what diseases I might have, what surgeries I've been through, what drugs I'm on, what neck size (excuse me?), had any of this, ever had that? It's like they want to find an excuse not to go through with it? Surely you've been in contact with a large group of people lately? No.Do you snore? Not that I've heard?
To be this close to surgery one is tempted to lie- if my answer stands between me and getting this surgery done, then perjury it will be. As it is, I still have to hold my breath to make sure the surgeon makes it and isn't called away for an emergency somewhere, that the operating room isn't bumped by someone else, that I don't get a cold or get sick or yes, get hit by a bus between now and then. A lot of maybes before I get slid onto that hard slab with the big light standing guard over top of me. Before I'm injected with about my tenth round of anesthesia and float away to where? I remember visiting with mom once. I'm looking forward to the possibility of seeing her again. They say if the last thing you tell yourself is to remember your dreams before you fall asleep, you have a good chance of getting some recall.
So until Wednesday I am washing daily with a pre-surgical antiseptic soap to help ensure no infections. No herbal supplements and no aspirin. Day of, water only. In and out same day.
Another week on the couch with a struggle to make a daily pilgrimage to the post box and back (40 minute return) then 2-3 weeks of no swimming or chlorine until the scars heal and then another two weeks of no bouncing, running until the "pudding" sets and the implant is firmly embedded in the flesh.(unless I want a permanent shoulder pad.)
And then...the new and improved Debi Smith. Getting back what cancer took away.
Soon cancer will be nothing but faded scars in my breasts and my memories.
I've learned a lot since July 2010 when I was told I would be headed on a different adventure.
A mere three years later and I'm back a wiser, better prepared cancer fighter...and an author to boot.
Maybe not a good enough trade-off but I'll take it.