I am now in the surreal place of having completed cancer treatment. Eight months have passed with little participation from me except survival efforts. Important, to be sure. My breast is like an eight pound Judyroast that seems a bit on the well-done side. Pain is unignorable. I realize this is not a word, but it is my current experience. My MD said, "You are doing as expected given your anatomy." Read: more tissue = more trouble. The right breast, the one reduced by surgery, is now nearly twice the size of the left. The skin on skin truth of my anatomy offers many square inches of tenderness now occupied by searing, weeping flesh.
Enough.
My arm is responding well to the compression garment and I am being fitted for a permanent sleeve. Being a chicken about tattoos, I'll decorate my sleeve instead.
2 comments:
Yeah! A fitting mother's day gift: done! Yeah!
Sorry about the pain. On the upside (is there an upside to pain?) spring offers good distractions. Imagine being in pain in the thick of winter! (Well, in the thick of a Wisconsin winter.)
xo
I know! As soon as I was diagnosed, I said, "Hey, better to donate a winter to this than a spring."
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