Tracie Fights Back

Less than a week from now I will be without my breasts – the one that tried to kill me, and the one that is guilty only by association.

How does that make me feel, people ask? More importantly, I ask myself, how will I feel when the time actually arrives next Wednesday morning? Because I don’t know for sure, Michelle and I want to be alone at the hospital to sort out our feelings.

So far I feel pretty matter-of-fact about the pending double. I’ve thought about it a lot and know it’s one more thing I need to do to live. I don’t want to minimize it or whatever feelings I might have, but neither do I want to make it a bigger ordeal than it needs to be.

One has to go. The other is my choice. I fear breast cancer, for sure. But there is also something comforting in symmetry and in not having a single breast left to worry about and subject to annual mammograms.

The operation will be painful. In addition to the breasts I’ll loose some lymph nodes in my right arm. They’ll go through the incision in my chest to reach them. My surgeon tells me that wound will hurt the most.

For two weeks I can’t do much, but in six I should be healed. Somewhere in between I’ll start radiation.

When I start to worry about my pending loss, something arises to grant me perspective.

This week when I was in pre-op waiting to have my port fixed, I was in a bed near a man who had only half a face. I was reminded again that cancer is hideous and indiscriminate.

Losing breasts seems easier by comparison. It’s a decision I can LIVE with.

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