I've come up with a leetle list of pros and cons about my mastectomy. Wanna hear it? Let's start with cons so we can end on a high note with the pros, shall we?
1. Nobody will hug me anymore. Frown. FYI, everyone, you can still hug without boobs touching. Beads has done it for years. And my chest itself doesn't hurt. So as long as you're not grabbing my new lats or my armpits, we goood. The saddest is that my niños won't hug me anymore. I keep asking Gage for huggies, and he keeps shaking his head "no," and points to my boobs, saying, "Owie."
2. My armpits hurt.
3. Sleeping is uncomfortable. On account of my armpits.
4. Darling ladies in my ward have been watching the niños for a few hours every day. This is a pro. Gage is really attached to them and cries like his heart will break when he leaves. He's no longer attached to me. That's a con.
1. People's reactions. We got pedicures yesterday, and this cute Vietnamese lady saw my bandages sticking out from under my shirt, then her eyes widened when she didn't see boobs.
"Where you boobs?" she asked.
"Oh, I have cancer. I had to cut them off."
"Why you still have hair?"
"I haven't started chemo yet. I may or may not lose my hair."
"Oh, I so sorry for you. I pray to Buddha for you."
"Thank you so much."
"Here, I show you new hair removal technique on your arm hairs for free."
It hurt. It's called threading. It's like a midevil torture device. I wouldn't recommend it.
2. I do feel skinnier. No boobs = you suddenly look anorexic; therefore, skinny. Also, I could really get used to this look for ballet. Wearing a leotard without a sports bra underneath? Tempting. I always wanted to be able to do that. I was a size A cup, which in ballet, is like being a size DD.
3. I'm not allowed to work. So I nap, sometimes read, sometimes watch TV... This is the first time in my life that I've ever been allowed to be just plain old lazy. I'm loving it. I read Bossypants by Tina Fey - finished yesterday. Laughed my butt off.
4. I'm hoping that my status as breast cancer sufferer will give me a chance to get a backstage pass to meet Paul McCartney tomorrow. A girl can dream, can't she? I mean, isn't that what Linda died of? And why isn't there a Make-a-Wish Foundation for grown women? I would choose to go to Harry Potter's Wizarding World in Orlando. Or Hawaii. Or Europe.
5. Ooh, maybe we can be eligible for that Extreme Home Makeover, right? Someone nominate me! 'Cause guess what? Looks like we get to buy a double-wide trailer in Oregon, folks. Even with a hefty down payment from the sale of our house, which is happening as we speak. I could use an extreme home makeover on a double-wide. (Couldn't everybody?)
6. Extremely funny hijinks when Ben tries to wash me. Because I have to hold my grenades while he washes. Have you ever seen that Seinfeld episode about Man Hands? Imagine these enormous, clumsy hands trying to wash your dainty little face with your face wash. I dissolve into giggles every time.
Kay, I have to go find out what stage my cancer is at. And how long my chemo will last. Be back soon.