Symmetry

My scar is pretty much sealed up now, with only about an inch of a deep scab remaining to fall off.  The itching has transitioned from obtrusive rashes to a healing twinges.  I have resumed my weekly yoga class, and I already have better range of motion in my right arm (surgified 7 weeks ago) than my left arm (surgified and irradiated 3.5 years ago).  I daresay I'm healed.  Efforts to improve strength and energy will now be the focus of my meditations.  

Being physically healed has cleared the way for the next phase of healing, and that is the mental healing.  Interestingly, adjusting to my breastless state has been much quicker and easier than my previous adjustment to having a single breast.  I think that there are at least two reasons for this.  First of all, I'm experienced in dealing with the emotional trauma that comes with losing a body part.  Going through that loss a second time has been much less traumatic.  Secondly, adjusting to my new body shape this time around is much less complicated than it was the first time.  This has to do with the issue of symmetry.  I spent a lot of time struggling with asymmetry after the first surgery, both psychologically and when shopping for clothes.  The second mastectomy has returned me to a symmetric state, which I find suits my self-image.  Perhaps I look oddly flat-chested to other people, but to me, I'm symmetric with no breast cancer.   That look suits me.    

Throughout this first phase of healing it has been important to wear loose clothing that doesn't constrict or pinch any parts of me.  We want to ensure that the blood can flow to and lymph can drain from the sites of healing.  Now that I'm past the itching and swelling, I can explore my options for undergarments.  Clearly I don't need a bra, but some sort of torso-covering undergarment provides both warmth and comfort.  

My friend J recently sent me an article about breast cancer survivors who started businesses to help fellow cancer patients and survivors, and one of the businesses sells appealing undergarments to women whose chests have been modified by cancer treatment.  There probably was a time when I would have thought this sort of thing unnecessary ("Why not just wear camisoles? They are cheaper and cover more area," I may have said), but now that I am in this situation I am excited to have found someone who is actively creating a resource for people like me.  Perhaps with a bit more shopping I'll decide that I don't actually need something necessarily bra-like, but a person does like to have options.

Speaking of options, I still have the prosthesis that I received after my first surgery.  I think it's under my bed or something.  I only wore it a handful of times.  Soon I will be sufficiently healed to get a prosthesis for the other side, and then I will have yet another option for optimizing symmetry and self-image.  

Finally, on a lighter note, guess who surprised me for my birthday on Friday?  

Surprise!  Happy birthday to me!  Look how symmetric we are--there are two of each!

All of my beautiful siblings!  Even Ryan, who flew in from Seattle for the surprise.  I have the best family ever.  I love you guys.

A prosthesis at last, just in case

I am now the proud owner of a prosthetic left breast.  The breast doesn't actually have handedness, but since I only have a spot for it on my left side I define it as a left breast.  It is triangular in the two dimensions that are flush with my skin, and teardrop-shaped in the third, protruding dimension.  It is pleasantly squishy--a bit more firm than a gel-filled ice pack but more pliable than rubber.

These descriptions will have to suffice for now because I decided not to photograph it yet.  I didn't know how:  do I lay it on the table?  Do I hold it up to my chest?  Do I let my smiling children hold it up for the camera?  I don't yet feel emotional ownership for this left breast and so any of these options seem satisfactory on one level, but on another level I don't want to accidentally disrespect the left breast in a careless photographic portrayal.  And so once again I rely on my words.

Acquisition of my prosthesis was surprisingly tedious.  It took five different fittings to get the correct breast-bra combo.  We first had to special order some prostheses.  The cancer outreach center did not stock any prostheses in my size, although I can proudly say I do not require the smallest prosthesis available (just the second smallest).  Then the shape was an issue, so we had to order the decided size in a different style.  Then the bras were the issue.  With a prosthesis, one typically wears a special bra that has a pocket for the prosthesis.  One can probably wear a prosthesis in a normal bra, but the pocket is nice to keep the prosthesis in place and to protect the skin from rubbing on the somewhat sticky prosthesis.  So I tried many, many different pocket bras.  It was difficult finding a bra that was complementary to (if not equalizing of) the prosthesis and Ms. Right Breast.  At long last we found one bra-breast combo that actually worked well.  Unfortunately, this bra was a rather impractical blue.  It is and will always be my first prosthesis bra, but we also settled on an imperfect fit in order to include a practical champagne-colored bra in my prosthesis-wearing repertoire.  

At first I was excited to have a prosthesis option available!  I slipped the breast in the pocket and put on the bra.  I was a bit self-conscious about choosing to wear a breast to work that day, so I chose a shirt that I presumed would hide the prosthetic breast just as I rely on it to hide the empty space.  And indeed I may have hidden it well.  I received no comments, but why would I?  What would someone say, regardless of if it were positive or negative?  "Did you get a new breast?  It looks great!" or "Did you get a new breast?  Hmm, you should get your money back."  It was false to imagine I would get affirmation for my choice to wear a prosthetic breast one day.  But I kept hoping for it as if I were sporting a new pair of glasses or shoes.  Also disappointing was how much I hated wearing a bra again.  It was the first time I'd worn a bra in months, if not a year.  I had forgotten how many millions of places it pulls and rubs and hikes and heats.  

Needless to say my shiny new prosthetic left breast is tucked away in its special box, in its original bag.  The scratchy new bras are stuffed into my overflowing (um...why?) undergarment drawer.  But they are at my disposal should I ever desire to increase my physical discomfort at the expense of my emotional comfort.  Maybe at a wedding reception with an open bar I can reconcile this dichotomy.                     

Revealing

Martha totally called me out in the comments to the previous post.  She said that she would like to see a picture of the new haircut with, well, more of the haircut in the picture.  This is not an unreasonable request.  I did not post awesome pictures of the haircut because the ones we took at the salon make me feel ridiculous.  Also, now you'll know what my hair is Supposed to look like, although I have yet to achieve this level of stylishness with my own two hands.  But at this point, what do I have to lose?

One thing of which I was previously ignorant is the issue of styling your hair around the glasses stem.  I used to just put on my glasses.  Oh no no no no, not anymore.  My stylist taught me how to use the comb to release the hair from the clutch of the stem, laying much of it gracefully over the top while leaving just enough underneath.  Ah, short hair, will I ever pass all of your lessons? 

While we are here, I will divulge that before my Herceptin therapy yesterday I got fitted for a prosthesis.  I figured even if I never wear it, I may as well get fitted for it before I lose the prescription.  The fitting was not unlike trying on shoes except that instead of taking off a shoe, I took off my shirt.  Then the nurse who works in the Cancer Center Boutique helped me chose the correct prosthesis and try on countless bras.  Choosing the prosthesis was the easy part because we just matched it to the existing breast.  But I had to try on countless bras to find the right one for the right breast, the left prosthesis, and my 30-year-old self.  See, the prosthesis requires a special bra that has a pocket in it.  I guess you can't just set the prosthesis in a normal bra or it might just leap out of there.  Because of this need for prosthesis security, these bras all seemed gigantic to me, and a far cry from my old bras.  But whatever.  It's not like I had cleavage or anything interesting before.  Besides, I'm rather enjoying the no-bra lifestyle.      

The prosthesis itself is made of silicone and is kind of cool; I will post pictures when it comes in.  The nurse had to special order it because she didn't have any small enough for me.  I always joked that my cup size was a lower-case A...turns out I wasn't far off the mark.  I am indeed less than an A, but they call that size a double-A, not a lower-case A.  So my double-A silicone breast is on order.  I wonder if you can get those through Amazon?

Poke tally

port  38  (I only have two herceptin treatments left!!!!)

right arm 12

tummy  6

left arm  6

right breast 2++

left breast  1+

superior vena cava 1

T9 vertebral body  1