Yesterday was a really awful day. It's the drain of course but also that I wasn't careful enough getting out of the shower and actually saw the breast. I cannot express to you how ugly it is. It looks like they painted it yellow, plugged the shop vac into the incision and then beat on it with a hammer. I just don't see how it will ever look anything but repulsive.
I needed to get dog food but can't lift anything over five pounds so the dogs got raisin bran for breakfast. It will be interesting to see how that plays out.
The PTB called and they want me to see a medical oncologist and I'm terrified he is going to try to talk me into chemo.
I don't have a wardrobe that lends itself to a hand grenade size drain and no right breast so I wear yoga type clothes with an orange sized lump on my side. I haven't stuffed a sock in there yet but it may come to that. My mother's memorial service is in two weeks and I have tried on 10 dresses and it's just so awful. The dress I thought was going to be the one looked ridiculous. I don't even understand why we are having a service. If anyone is all twisted up about her death, they are hiding it well.
I just got depressed over the whole thing. I didn't feel like fighting. I felt like crying. I felt like running away. I felt like I'd been had by doctors who told me there was no medical reason to remove both breasts 7 years ago. I felt like I was always going to have a half flat chest with a drain. I felt ugly and old and broken and irrelevant.
I watched the game with my kids who actually didn't care but I think they got together and decided that I couldn't watch it by myself (husband went turkey hunting then to Houston for work).
I sipped on a bourbon with real coke -- I haven't had a real coke in 15 years -- and patiently waited for my beloved Hoos to snatch defeat out of the jaws of victory. You'd have had to be a UVa fan for the last forty years to appreciate just how adept they are at blowing it.
Not this time!
My relationship with my alma mater is a complicated one. My dad had the rule that we had to go out of state to college so I always knew I would go away. I didn't appreciate until I got there what I was getting away from. My college years were a time of lightness and freedom before I voluntarily went back into the cage when I registered for law school. I wanted to major in religious studies but my brother had joined a born again cult at Stanford and my parents went nuts, not understanding the difference between studying the history of all religions and being a religious nut.
So my time in college was my time to breath, and I have fed off those years my whole life. I'm thrilled for them and for me, plus I've always been a sucker for a redemption story.
Thank you Hoos for brightening a dismal day. I don't know what might pull me out of my funk today, but I'm pretty sure I'm not going to find it sitting on this couch.