What the Blind(ed by the Light) Man Saw

I’ve got to tell you that losing my breasts and my long curly hair have really made me go on a quest to make myself feel better about my appearance. Perhaps you’ve heard about the benefits of red light therapy for the skin. Perhaps you think it’s a crock of crap. Perhaps you too have had your husband enter the bedroom to find you emitting a strange red light. I had my ear buds in and my eyes closed “visualizing” what I wanted my future to look like. I slowly became aware of a presence in the room. It was not a ghost, or a heavenly presence. It was Jeff trying to hold back his laughter while taking my picture accompanied by a very concerned Rocky.

It might be silly. I have cancer. And yet here I am pursuing the fountain of youth. Or the fountain of mid-thirties. My girls and I were looking at old home videos of us when we lived with my mom and dad. Videos made 5-7 years ago. Both of them exclaimed, “Mom! You look so young!” By their tone you’d think they were seeing me at the age of 16. Nope. Just 36. I began to wonder…do I really look that much older? I’ve always been pretty pragmatic about aging. Aging is a privilege. I should know that better than most in my current reality. And yet having my appearance change so drastically in such a short amount of time has definitely affected my mental health. I’m tired of wigs and so now I go out with my short hair and I try to be confident, in spite of not feeling very attractive. It’s my vanity showing. I know that. And yet you can find me putting on layers of serums, eye creams, and anti-aging lotions morning and night.

In other news, our Payton turned 19 on Monday. We went to Color me Mine and to Mr. Shabu for dinner. It was all you can eat hot pot or sushi. I had a sushi roll and a half with a spinach salad and still left the restaurant feeling like Mr. Shamu. It was so much fun spending time with all my kids. I cried a couple of times. When asked why I was crying I said, “This is the good stuff. This is what life is about.” I’m so very grateful to get to be in their world.

There is a fellow breast cancer thriver in one of my online support groups who was diagnosed 16 years ago with stage 4 breast cancer. Back then they told her she had less than 6 months to live. Her kids were 5 and 7 and she prayed that she would live to see them grow up. She described those years as “parenting through dying eyes.” I have noticed that I think about how I want my family to remember me more than I did before. Hopefully I’ll have decades to live and I don’t want to be morose or morbid but I’d be lying if I said that I don’t think about how significant each moment is now.

Jeff and I went to PBR’s Unleash the Beast on Saturday. It was super fun. A much needed date night. Jeff makes me feel like a queen each day. We have times we disagree about things, sure. We have an inside joke stemming from an incident one day while driving through Duchesne. He was claiming that one of the entrances to a trail we went on in our side by side last summer was at a certain turn off. He was frustrating me because I kept presenting my evidence as to why that wasn’t the right turn off but he persisted. In pent up frustration I exclaimed, “You’re wrong!” instantly realizing I had sounded a little harsh I added, “But I still love you.” Jeff laughed and laughed over that. Now we say it to each other when we are disagreeing about something.

Brielle and I enjoying a morning of shopping and churros. She seems to have a problem keeping her tongue in her mouth whenever the selfie is in force. She always says to me, “I’m your favorite right? You can admit it. Everyone else already knows.”

Last week my inflatables have almost reached their max potential. I have one more fill tomorrow. Having much smaller breast mounds is very weird for me. On the one hand there are many benefits such as laying on my side and not having my arm go to sleep because of the weight of my breast cutting off blood flow to my arm. I can button up a blouse and not worry about giving everyone a sneak peek when the button fails to keep the material of my blouse together. They are not in my way when I do basically any movement. Those are all a plus. But it’s still strange for me.

After radiation is done I will need to wait 4-6 months to have my reconstruction surgery done. I’ve opted to have a DIEP flap reconstruction. They will take the fat from my “fupa” or “mummy tummy” as I call it and move the blood vessels and fat to my chest. They will swap out my inflatables for my own tissue. As an added bonus my stomach will be flatter afterward. Recovery time is 3 months. For that reason I may opt to do the reconstruction when I’ve accrued enough PTO to take the time off.

I have met with radiation oncology to discuss my upcoming treatments. I need to be able to get both my arms over my head in order to start. I began PT again and that’s been helpful, but also painful. The difficulty in regaining my strength and range of motion has surprised me. The exercises have sometimes left me in tears. But I’m gaining traction and hope to start radiation treatments in March.

I’m always keenly aware of all the people pulling for me. Whether I know you personally or not it means a lot to me that you take the time to stop by the blog and check in on me. Writing helps me process this experience and I also hope it helps others who are facing cancer treatments or other health issues. You are stronger and more resilient than you think you are. Keep going.