May 1, 2017

Here we go…bilateral mastectomy scheduled for May 16.

The decision to forgo reconstruction wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.

After reading mountains of stuff, I talked with my sisters…all three of them, and asked what they thought.  One suggested that I make a list of the “pros and cons” and decide from there.

The only “pro” I could see was that I’d look normal to other people.

The fact that I would never again have to wear a bra was what really clinched the deal for me.   Talk about a bright spot in the darkness!

Flashback to my first time wearing a real bra.  With cups.  A step up from a training bra.  (Do they still make those?)  Woohoo!

It was as hot and humid a day as I’d ever experienced in my 13 years.  On the long walk to the neighborhood swimming pool, sweat poured in rivers down my back and that sun just kept beating down.  Sidewalks and blacktop streets reflected the heat and passing traffic made it worse.

No amount of squirming would free me from the band that cinched tightly around my rib cage.

I was strapped into what felt like hell, sweating like a pig and wishing I was a boy.

My new prison featured two highly attractive cone shaped “cups” meant to harness my barely budding boobies.  Some genius in the fashion world thought this was a good look?

Sadly, the girls didn’t come close to filling it, so the fabric points showed themselves in lumps  under my  lemon yellow tank top.


God, if I have to wear one of these for the rest of my life, just kill me now!

This must be how a wild horse feels when you try to put a saddle on him!

Mom said I’d get used to it.

Mom was wrong.

Granted, intimate apparel has come a long way since then but I never found a bra that I could call “comfortable.”

And what sadist invented under-wires?

Anyway….Hubby wants to know how I’ll feel if “something happens to  him” and I find someone else.  Sweet thought, but if some guy doesn’t love me for who I am, he’s just not good enough.

Hmmm…..I wonder if he’s telling me that he would prefer me with boobs, even if they’re not real, but trying to be gentle about it.

My surgeon seems to be pushing for reconstruction, telling me that I can be whatever size I want to be.  Maybe even fill up that bra. LOL! I always thought I would just want him to put me back the way I was, but now I’m absolutely certain I’ll go flat.

And maybe get a couple nice tattoos?

This is such a personal decision, unique to every woman who has to make it. The choice she makes will be perfect for her.

I know that I don’t want any more surgeries after this one.  I’m anxious about complications and just want to finish this and get on with recovery.  My breasts served me well to nurse two babies, at least for a while.  They don’t define me as a woman and I’m confident this is the right option for me.

So, in a few weeks I’ll be bald and breastless.

Hey!  That sounds like an afternoon TV drama… “The Bald and the Breastless.”

Theme song:  “No Hair, No Bra, No Problem!”


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