Do you ever feel like your entire life is a freak show\u2026and you have front row seats? \u00a0Pull up a chair and enjoy the latest installment in the series I call: \u201cMaria\u2019s Breast Case Scenario.\u201d<\/p>\n
Having a double mastectomy can be a one-time deal.\u00a0 That is, opting not to go forward with an implant and further reconstruction. \u00a0It is fine if that is what you decide. \u00a0In fact, that\u2019s pretty much the road I was travelling until a few important realizations hit me\u2026.<\/p>\n
First, even my undershirts were billowing around my chest area.<\/p>\n
Second, nothing GAP offers fit me anymore, unless I moved into the boy\u2019s toddler section, which I have.<\/p>\n
Third, there was nothing \u201cthere\u201d to catch my invariable spilling and drooling during happy hour. \u00a0Who knew breasts were such great crumb-catchers? Well, when they\u2019re gone, you soon find out!<\/p>\n
Thus began the slow process of building back up what was dismantled. \u00a0I got implants and thought that was that. \u00a0Not too big, not too small. \u00a0Quite the right size for this Goldilocks. \u00a0I was content and my undershirts fit.<\/p>\n
Then there came the episode when all hell broke loose.\u00a0 The donor tissue which acted as a nesting hammock for my implant came apart from my chest wall and leaked. That little snafu earned me a surgical do-over and several days of a drug-induced siesta in the hospital. \u00a0It wasn\u2019t a hoot!\u00a0 Apparently, along with my Mr. Daniels in a red Solo, I have trouble holding my anesthesia.<\/p>\n
Although I did heal, I soon started to have discomfort around the left implant. \u00a0So, I visited my friendly neighborhood plastic surgeon, who examined the culprit of my neurosis.\u00a0 He wondered aloud why I never completed my reconstruction.\u00a0 This was news to me. In my mind I had. \u00a0What the hell was he talking about?<\/p>\n
Oh\u2026nipples.\u00a0 Aren\u2019t they just, I don\u2019t know, sort of extraneous, store-front displays?\u00a0 Like the inflatable cows at Blue Ribbon Dairy. You know they don\u2019t produce milk, but they\u2019re almost an expected accouterment.<\/p>\n
I was not sure if more surgery was for me. \u00a0My friend Denise offered this nugget: \u201dEvery picture deserves a frame. \u00a0That\u2019s your frame.\u201d \u00a0Wow. \u00a0Heavy. \u00a0She also said: \u201cRamona on Real Housewives of NYC has to go,\u201d but I was just hearing \u201cnipples and frames.\u201d<\/p>\n
By now I was game. \u00a0But first, I wanted to talk it over with the offspring.\u00a0 From the very first moment of diagnosis, I had talked to them at every step. \u00a0Now was not the time to stop!<\/p>\n
Against their wishes, I lifted my shirt and gave them a tutorial about what had been done so far and would take place. \u00a0It had always been about the frankness of the cancer discussion; demystifying the unknowns. \u00a0In my mind, this eases the fright that kids feel. \u00a0And they all do. \u00a0An open dialogue encourages them to think of breast cancer as an inconvenience rather than a death sentence. \u00a0They\u2019re better informed about the disease and what needs to be done to fix it, and can better educate their peers.<\/p>\n
Let\u2019s be frank.\u00a0 There\u2019s too much misinformation about cancer out there, especially when it comes to breasts.\u00a0\u00a0 In part, this is because we women are loathe to discuss it.\u00a0 Why, I will never understand. Perhaps it\u2019s our upbringing. \u00a0I suppose, because my father is a pharmacist, there was never a body part and its matching function not verbally dissected around the dinner table.\u00a0 Coming from a girl-heavy house, my brother was the most educated male in the Valley on all female operating instructions. \u00a0He knew my monthly cycle better than me!<\/p>\n
My message is quite simple. \u00a0Share the cancer expedition and flight plan with your kids. \u00a0I swear to you, it will eradicate their anxieties. If they know what to expect then, when they walk into the bathroom and you\u2019re in the tub, they\u2019ll be less likely to run screaming in fear and disgust. (Oh, wait, that was my husband, not my kids. \u00a0My mistake).<\/p>\n
Basically\u2026.share it, don\u2019t hide it!<\/p>\n
Well, I completed another reconstructive surgery. \u00a0I can\u2019t go into further detail because I\u2019ve probably already pushed the envelope too far with the mention of \u201cni&*#es\u201d.\u00a0 Suffice it to say they are the size of a Tic Tac and not a Good n\u2019 Plenty. They are perfect. \u00a0Sure, they\u2019re non-operational, but so is an ornament hanging from your Christmas tree, and we still need them to complete the whole enchilada, right?<\/p>\n
Last stop on the Breast Cancer Express? \u00a0Tattooing! \u00a0Stay tuned for that little adventure. \u00a0I won\u2019t let you go without going into every excruciating detail. \u00a0Buy your ticket early to get a good seat, for what I hope will be the final installment in the BC Parade.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n