Mammarian Ponderings.

Surgery to remove my cancer-ridden, left breast was pending. So what do you do to send off a breast? I was thinking there should be some sort of ritual or ceremony. However, given my lack of time and resources I had to keep it simple. So in an attempt to immortalize good old lefty, I scheduled a family photo. We hired a photographer to come to Coloma and do our Christmas shot. I envision myself lopsided, bald and pale by the time Christmas rolls around. Better to put my summertime tan to good use now and take advantage of my looking fabulous. Recently, we watched an episode of Modern Family where Claire, the suburban mother of three, requires the entire family to wear white. It was a funny episode. My family resisted but ultimately they were all psyched that I insisted. With a river back drop and the gorgeous bamboo gardens of a close friend, we rocked the backdrop in our all white ensembles. I got lefty forever recorded on digital film. It's all good. I still didn't think I was going to miss my left breast for anything other than filling the left cup of all of my bras. It barely did that anyway. I was looking forward to less bounce with running and jumping, and kayak gear sliding on a little easier. It seemed there were more pros than cons.
I was feeling pretty confident about my surgery. I hand-picked the surgeon, the scrub nurse, the anesthesiologist, the circulating nurse, the intake nurse and my recovery room nurse. No stone was left unturned. My last will and testament was signed and witnessed. The refrigerator was stocked east coast hurricane style and my husband was off work. We were all ready to go. I tried to get sentimental about lefty, but was having trouble. After all, it sort of let me down by letting cancer get a foothold. I'm anticipating no love lost. Not sure if I'm being callous or not. It is what it is.
How does one envision themselves without a breast? It's a weird sort of thing. I've tried moving lefty around so it looks like I don't have one. Seems even more convenient. I can't help but wonder if I should just have the right one removed too. No bras, no more cold nipples, and I can do the sports guy chest bump.
Still, just in case I miss the thing, I took pictures, with and without clothes. Of course, I did the naked ones myself. No use in torturing an unsuspecting photographer with such a task. Being an ER nurse, no gesture is too morbid but sometimes the outside world sees things a little differently. With photos, I can remember the left breast that once was.
Now the upside to all of this, is further down the road. I will have an opportunity to rebuild. Yes Ladies and Gentlemen, my future could hold a boob job. Not just a little old Masoplexy like I was planning with a nip here and a tuck there, but a full blown surgical recreation of my femininity. I'm thinking the round kind that does not move and stands at attention like a group of graduating navy seals. The irony is I think my girlfriends and my husband are more excited by this prospect than I am. People are already planning "pick Tori's rack" parties. Marek had an in-depth discussion with my primary care physician about the endless possibilities which was a little strange.....I was sitting right there while they were discussing my future bra fillings. I suppose I have to really decide whether or not I want to bother. I'd hate to disappoint my posse, and I'd also hate for my husband to miss out on a golden opportunity. But my breasts have done what they came to do. They snared a man, fed my children and filled out some nice strapless dresses. But as gravity takes its toll, they lose their desireability and become more of a nuisance. Life without them might be better for my other structures like my new hip and my lower back. What to do....? This is likely a decision I will not make over a latte. That is probably why they do the mastectomy first. So one will spend months of chemo prioritizing what boobs mean to a woman in the first place.