fragility

First off, my boobs look great. :) But seriously, they do. The fact that my plastic surgeon was able to partially fill my expanders was really a win for me – physically and emotionally. While it took me a few days to muster up the courage to review the work, I was pleasantly surprised when I did and it didn’t hurt that everyone around me who took a peek was impressed. My incisions were expertly closed are they are healing well. I can honestly see myself eventually becoming confident with my new rack. I’m really lucky with the visual results.

But still, I’m frustrated. And I’m in discomfort.

It’s two weeks since surgery but sometimes I feel like I’m at day one. Yet, then I have to remember, I’m only two week out.

What physically hurts? To start, my pectoral muscles. Since all of my breast tissue was removed, my expanders were placed behind my pecs and they are getting reoriented in their new position. To put this simply, my muscles are confused which is putting them on overdrive, constantly flexing, while I’m sitting still, brushing my teeth, picking up a glass or just trying to do get dressed. It is bizarre because everything is numb except for my muscles and that only heightens the pain.

The expanders themselves also hurt at times. The feeling is by no means as constant as my muscle pain (which they are ultimately causing) but they are a source of anxiety. In a weird way, they feel like an armor taking up space inside my chest that my body is adjusting to. The mix of the tight muscles and the expanders causes extreme tightness which peaks in the morning and simulates the feeling that my chest is frozen.

And I was just reminded while writing this that it’s terrifying to sneeze. I feel like my incisions are about to rip open. That sounds absolutely disgusting but that’s the only way I can describe it.

But I think the real frustration lies in the fact that potential pain ignites stress on my body to protect itself. David calls me t-rex because I am constantly holding my elbows to my waist with my arms up covering my chest. I feel fragile.

And I’ve never felt fragile before, nor have a wanted to exude a sense of fragility. Given my short stature and petite frame, I have always tried to overcompensate with a strong personality to avoid pity or protectiveness from others. You can imagine my apprehension now when I have to ask strangers to open large doors for me and wait for the next train to arrive at the subway stop when there isn’t an open seat. I’ve always considered myself a strong and determined woman and suddenly I can’t clean the apartment properly before David gets home from work and need my mom to put away dishes when she comes into town for a visit.   

This has caused a type of paralysis on my body and I’m fearful that it is stalling my recovery. I’m even scared to do small tasks because I don’t want to feel something that will cause anxiety – usually a new muscle sensation or expander movement. It’s a rush. I can feel even-keeled in one moment and have a trigger of pain with just the tiniest movement of my chest. And each time, it’s a reminder that my breasts were cut off and I have cancer.

So it didn’t help yesterday when I was up for an expander fill at the doctor’s office. They needed to add in about 100 ccs of fluid and I was terrified – I felt fragile. I did not want further tension, pressure, tightness and pain. I even tried to decline the procedure. How could I add on more to my body when I could barely handle what I’ve been dealt. I literally said out loud, “I know I’m being a baby and this is nothing compared to the surgery but this freaks me out.” And yes, an oversized plastic syringe and needle would freak you out too.

However, I did it and it was fine. I had some new pains and sensations yesterday throughout the day but I may actually feel better today than I did before the fill. And I’m going to do it again next Tuesday too. Because ultimately I’m going to do what my body needs for the long term. Because while I’m fragile now, I need to make tough decision for my body so it can be the best it can be for when I’m back to 100%. What would be the point of all of this work if I stop now?

Maybe the idea of being fragile isn’t a weakness at all – it’s about being vulnerable to your body and your emotions. The real truth behind this entire post is that I miss my old body and while I was never fearless, I was confident in my movement. I miss my old boobs with no scars that don’t feel rock solid. I miss doing simple tasks with speed – like emptying the dishwasher or wiping down a kitchen counter. I miss chopping russet potatoes to make baked fries. I miss showering with ease and not guarding my arms over my chest, fearful of the water pressure on my breasts. I miss wearing something other than a button down or boxy sweatshirt. I miss wanting to wear make-up and statement earrings. I miss being able to sleep on my side instead of being hesitant to sleep on new faux side boobs. I miss ModelFit, Tracy Anderson and SoulCycle. I miss cuddling and spooning.

I know all of this will come back with time – and hopefully it will be sooner than later and I can feel embarrassed for complaining. But this cancer adventure isn’t over with this surgery recovery. There is a completely unknown journey just weeks away – chemo. And I am going to feel fragile again and miss other everyday things that I won’t be up for doing.

But in the meantime, I will cherish something that I do have – new boobs that will be so perfect when this is all over! Plus, I’m off pain meds so I will start to enjoy a glass of wine, dirty martini or maybe even a beer.