Ta-ta’s

Every flipping morning I wake up and go Damn! It’s real. The pain and the fact I’m basically sitting up while sleeping are quick reminders that there’s still a long way to go to recovery. It’s been one week since surgery and I have no patience! There’s a reason why I was never a fab dieter, I need instant gratification and always wanted to be down 20lbs yesterday. Obviously none of which are realist goals. Therefore I want this BCBS done yesterday. Another not-so-realistic notion.

I keep comparing this to when my hip collapsed and was replaced 5 years ago and oddly this seems worse. I don’t know why, maybe it’s the fact that “your five year survival rate” statement was never involved in the hip discussion. Of course there were days the pain of walking on a broken hip made me think I wouldn’t survive another day, but that’s what the meds were for. If the restrictions on opioids amidst the fentenal crisis were present 5 years ago, I would’ve majorly been bummin!

This major surgery was obviously different. This time the concern of not even making it out of surgery crossed my mind. This time getting shitty news when I woke crossed my mind a lot. And of course this time the C-word was involved. But I will say that the hip(s) were involved in my BC surgery decision making process. I will mostly likely need the right hip replaced, then the left will need a tune-up, then if I went the implant route for breast reconstruction those would need replaced at 10 years and next thing you know….every 5 years I’m going under the knife for something! Ugh!

So what’s the point of this surgeries comparison rant? I HAVE NO CLUE? Probably that every day for the past week seems a bit like groundhogs day. And the mental aspect of this life challenge is significantly different than the one of 5 years ago.

To be honest, the past 5 years have kinda blown, therefore I’m ready for a good year. In 5 years I’ve lost a hip, my BFF cousin (Joel, 44), Maria’s first neighborhood friend (sweet Payton 17), my dad (76) and now my beautiful tata’s. 2019 is going to be a long one, so I’m thinking the 2020’s are going to ROCK! Watch out people, I’ve got a lot of shit to accomplish and it’s all happening in the next decade?

Speaking of tata’s (yes, that is my preferred name for them now. Breasts is too clinical, tits is crude, and boobs reminds me of a young boys first discovery of the female chest). Why are they so defining? From the moment they first sprouted to the moment they were gone, my breasts (ok, went clinical on ya) have been a large (pun intended) part of who I am.

This might sound shallow but true. I mentioned something to the like in a previous post when referencing them as “trouble makers” but now I’m beginning to reflect on why I just don’t care that they’re gone. Yes, the new ones are in the process of reconstruction, but I’m starting to embrace that they’re now going to represent that I’ve overcome something. That, if they’re given attention, it’s the good kind this time. It’s not objective or seductive or anything other than representation that cancer doesn’t live in them anymore.

My tata’s might (literally) be man-made now, but now they’ll have purpose again. They’re original purpose was to offer nourishment to my children (not just to be fun-bags & shirt-fillers) and now they’re purpose is for my children again. I’ve sacrificed them to be here for my family. I could’ve went an “easier” route, but it didn’t feel right. My girls will be more aware of Breast Cancer risk and more conscious of taking care of themselves and hopefully continue to remind other women not to ignore their gut when/if something feels off.

So F-U breasts, boobs, tits of the past! There’s new ta-ta’s in da house to represent where you failed!