It's been ten days since my surgery. The incision is healing really well. There's no drainage. I can wear a normal bra. I can pull a t-shirt on over my head. I still have quite a bit of discomfort in my pit from the nerve trauma that occurred when my lymph nodes were removed, but no swelling that I can see. This morning, I woke for the first time since surgery with no swelling in my hand and no pain in my arm.
The girls....well, kudos to Dr C. The healthy breast is a little more round than the healing breast, but when I'm dressed I can't see a difference in them. When I'm not dressed the healing breast has a bit of a flatter side, toward my armpit. I don't know if there's some swelling under the skin yet, but right now, I don't feel like I'll need any enhancement to balance things out. I considered posting photos, in case anyone else going through this would benefit from seeing actual documentation. The books I have feature lovely line drawings that don't really help outside of the technical aspect. But breast cancer is part of my life, not my whole life. This blog is my outlet for several of my interests. So I decided against photos.
I'm having a hard time getting used to the idea of chemo. I know that in the grand scheme of things, chemo is just a blip on the radar. What my dad would have called a speed bump on the road of life. Still, it's hard.
I don't like the idea of looking sick. I don't like not knowing what to expect, how my body will react. I want to know if I will be able to go to work, if I'll get puking sick, if I'll be able to have some semblance of normalcy. Everyone handles chemo differently. I just don't know. Not having a plan takes me completely out of my comfort zone.
And honestly, I worked hard to get myself back to a healthy body weight. I'm not quite there yet, but I've made great progress. I'm not happy about seeing that go down the drain. Chemo for breast cancer often causes weight gain. I get that chemo is necessary, I get that a few extra pounds shouldn't matter; still, it does. If that makes me vain and silly, then I am vain and silly.
And of course, there's the hair. Chemo lasts three months, but it will take years to grow my hair back. If I do grow it back. It's been long-ish most of my life. Maybe I won't want it long after this. I wonder how I'll feel six months from now when I run into someone I haven't seen in a while and they comment about me cutting my hair. Will I tell them I had chemo, or just say, "Oh, do you like it?" My eye brows and lashes will likely fall out as well. There are no wigs for brows and lashes.
Diva will be here this weekend. I want to talk to her, to get the inevitable conversation over with. I want to explain that even though I'm going to be sick for a while, in the end I'll be stronger and healthier than ever. She's the kind of kid that takes everything in stride, yet I wonder if all this will freak her out. Diva is the world to me. I can't help but wonder how my cancer will affect our relationship.