Avoiding the Darkness

As we inch closer to January 5th, I can sense the shift in my mood. The kids all had the flu this week. It’s been a challenge. They’re sick, I have to not get sick, and all we want to do is snuggle. And all my brain wants to do is totally fLiP oUt! I’ve probably been the prickliest cuddle buddy ever. I want snuggles, but I also need space.

Tomorrow, I have an appointment at Magee to be cleared for surgery. My anxiety is trying to win right now. “What if they say you can’t have the surgery? What if your blood pressure is through the roof? Think of all the people whose lives you’ll interrupt.”

I haven’t written in here since October. That’s not because things haven’t happened or that there haven’t been doctors appointments. I think it’s all due to self-preservation. After all, we all know that I like to write. It’s one of the things I like to think I’m pretty okay at. But, here I’ve been, struggling to write anything.

I thought keeping a blog on this journey would be easy. I’m a person who generally expresses herself. And yet, I haven’t been as open as I could be. It’s probably because — brace yourselves, I’m going to be honest here — I’m scared. I’m scared of the pain. I’m scared of how I’ll look. I’m scared things could go sideways (literally and figuratively), and I’m scared of how the kids will react. And apparently, this is all normal! It’s normal to feel this way.

Telling the Kids

This past weekend, we told the kids about what’s coming up. We tried to explain it to them in a gentle manner. I even found a children’s book online about mastectomies. At first, they handled it well. But as soon as Chris left the room, the girls started to cry. They said they’re scared about not being able to snuggle. This broke my heart. Now, I know that I’m making the right decision. All of the doctors and nurses (I’m not exaggerating when I say this) have all said it’s the right decision. Nobody in the medical field has tried to tell me not to do it.

Even knowing the statistics and seeing my images, I still feel guilty for the impact the coming months will have on the kids. But I have to remember: this is all so I can live and avoid cancer.

Stay Still

I won’t be able to drive for six weeks, raise my arms, lift anything heavier than five pounds, and I have to walk at a “grandma pace” for several weeks as well. This is something that I know will annoy me and the kids. I like to walk to get them from school. I also like to drive. Oh, and I’ve been a huge fan of the gym for the past year. It’s this part that makes me nervous. The gym has been a sanctuary for me. I found myself going in recently just because. Not for a class, not for a training session, but just for my mental health. And that’s going to be gone. But again, what’s coming up is temporary and it’s so I can live. And once I have that clearance to workout again, I can’t wait to see how it feels to be able to run or lift.

The Silver Linings

We’re going to do an exercise. We’re going to list why this is all a good idea. I’ve even include some funny reasons:

• This is better than breast cancer
• I’ve always wanted smaller breasts
• I’ll be able to spend more time with the kids, since I won’t have to go to Magee three times a year for screenings (side note: Laura J. I love hanging out with you. Now we’ll just have to hang out doing other things that are more fun!)
• My shoulders will feel amazing
• Back pain? What’s that?
• Wearing tank tops without bra straps showing!
• I can get cute tops, like tube tops or halter tops!
• Running will be sooo much better
• Range of motion for lifting at the gym will be *chef’s kiss*
• The anxiety of not knowing if the next appointment is the one where they’ll tell me I have a mass where they’ve been monitoring will be gone
• I get to play Price is Right with the surgeons for how much they weigh. How many women get to find out the true weight of what they’ve been carrying around on their shoulders? (I’m betting 8 lbs.) Also, I totally want to do this as a fundraiser LOL
• Did I mention having that reduced risk of breast cancer? Because that’s a great one
• I always did want to be like Angelina Jolie

And there you have it. My list. I’ll be okay. It’s all going to be okay.