Blooming Life

Fair warning -- this post contains an abridged version of unpleasant medical realities. Don't read if squeamish.

It's been a very long and exhausting year. No, I'm not finished with breast cancer treatment, yet. Yes, I'm finished with chemotherapy. Yes, I've had my mastectomies and lymphadenectomy. Yes, there were good results from the surgeries. Praise God. Yes, I've had radiation. But I have three more infusions of herceptin for a total of 17 infusions every three weeks since last August. Whew. My body is tired. My spirit is tired.

 Trying to bloom where I'm planted

One month after radiation ended I started experiencing minor swelling in my hands and feet. The plastic surgeon thinks this is normal -- thinks that my body is still recovering from major surgery last December and that I need to give it more time. The physical therapists (yes, I'm in physical therapy) think it is cause for alarm. They think it's lymphedema, which is just one more crappy take away from everything else that is happening to my body. In physical therapy, we're working on my range of motion, but mainly the therapists are manipulating my lymph fluid around so that it can properly drain through my subclavian veins. It's complicated. And tiring.

After all cancer treatment is finished in early July, (I can't wait), then I have my next surgery, breast reconstruction, (at the end of July), which is a little terrifying, though I'm trying to be brave. The plastic surgeon is going to make substitute boobs for me from my belly fat, which means that I'm basically going to be cut in two from hip bone to hip bone, just below my belly button, just so I can feel and look "normal" in the long run. Normal meaning that when someone looks at me with clothes on, I will look like a woman by having boob like protrusions. Right now, I have prosthetics where my boobs used to be, which have been expanded to a point so that there will be enough skin to put my belly fat underneath it. But here's the freaky part, (like the rest of it isn't freaky), belly fat remains belly fat no matter where it is in the body. So if I gain weight in the future, it will go straight to my belly, which will have been rearranged to my chest wall. Belly boobs. I know, science! Crazy.

As demanding as this last year has been physically and emotionally, to prepare my heart for the stress of the next surgery, Tilly the Wonder dog and I are out walking and seeing our 'ole dog walking buddies. (!) The next surgery will put me out of commission for a while (again), so the Amazing Reese and I are also saying yes to small social engagements, if feasible. It's been nice to connect (reconnect) on a small level in the midst of such a difficult year.