The Journey Home

24 Apr

We just got home from Atlanta at 8pm. This ranks as one of the longest days I can remember next to being in labor with my sons. Fortunately the muscle relaxer has the tendency to knock my happy ass out. I slept in the car for about 4 hours of the 9 hour trip. The rest of the time I was listening to my favorite podcasts: either The Geologic Podcast with George Hrab, Scott Sigler’s “Contagious”, the finale of Mark Yoshimoto Nemkoff’s “Transister Rodeo”, or the latest book by Greg Crites that he deigned to put up in the Literary Lugwrench Clodcast.

Taking frequent breaks was the best possible thing I could have done. It hurts SO much worse without those walks even with the regular doses of Percocet and muscle relaxer (Methylcarbamol). The way my pain levels are hitting it looks like the Methyl is going to be my primary pain relief with a half a Percocet reserved for breakthrough pain.

The one time we stopped for a late breakfast, I talked to a gentleman who was telling me about a friend of his who was in worse shape than me. A year ago his friend had gotten implants. Last month she was diagnosed with breast cancer and lost both of her brand new boobies to the requisite double mastectomy.

I know that I’ve been through a lot but women who lose their breasts to cancer really humble me. I am SO not in their league by any stretch of the imagination. I saw what my Mom went through 26 years ago and she had Stage 2 so they took her lymph nodes as well AND she had chemo on top of it all. Not only did she lose her breasts but she also lost her hair.  Then she had her own necrosis complications after implants were put in. She still doesn’t have breasts.

Now that I’ve had such amazing results with my surgery she’s talking about getting hers done by Dr. Elliott. San implants of course. I wish that she would because I know what kind of self-esteem issues she has that are rooted in this. It’s a crying shame too because my Mom (who is single, BTW) is such a totally awesome lady. She deserves a bit more happiness in her life.

It’s because of people like my Mom, and what I’ve been through that I keep talking about this subject. There are so few places where anyone can FIND information about what happens when cosmetic surgeries go wrong. We feel ashamed, blame ourselves as though WE are the ones who did something wrong. I, personally, have felt less than human on numerous occasions because our society places so much value on breasts. I have wondered to myself that if I don’t have breasts, then what AM I? Surely not a woman. I felt like some mangled, sub-human thing. An “it”.

I play act very well. Most of the time the people closest to me had no idea of how I felt. Women are trained from an early age to put on a performance that will put everyone else at ease. As women, and especially Moms, we’ve been taught to put everyone and everything else ahead of our own needs. I think this is another reason why we don’t talk about these issues.

We have GOT to start being more vocal. These things are so much less frightening when you realize there’s someone out there who is going or has gone through exactly when you’re going though.


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