On January 15th 2020 I finish my last round of chemo. I’m so happy that, that phase is over and done with. The thing is I’ve been to my oncologist three days last week ( starting January 21) due to a low white blood cell count and low hemoglobin (iron) levels. This is certainly not what I had in mind when I walked out of my last chemo treatment. I was ready to celebrate, well after my last stint of being ill from the treatment itself. The nurse practitioner told me before I left on the 23rd that she wants me to come back next week to check my levels again and for hydration. I’m sure my face said it all because I was definitely thinking, lady I don’t wanna see you or this place everyday.
On January 29th I will see the breast surgeon regarding my upcoming surgery. I have a lot of anxiety over what he may tell me. Up until this point I wouldn’t even allow myself to think about this part. I had to compartmentalize this process so that I didn’t overwhelm myself. Well, as we move closer to that day I can feel myself getting anxious. Just the unknown is what’s driving me batty.
When I was diagnosed with cancer the breast surgeon was the one that gave me the diagnosis. He told me he was hopeful that he wouldn’t have to remove my breast but he couldn’t guarantee anything until the end of my treatment. Well, here we are. The one thing I didn’t want to think about or discuss is here. My therapist has asked me several times what if you have to have your breast removed. I would tell her I’m not thinking about that yet. One step at a time. Even as I try not to think about it, it’s on my mind subconsciously. I’ve had nightmares not just about the surgery but the cancer in general.
I have always been a busty girl. I would often get frustrated when I was younger because I could never go braless or wear those cute little tops without a tacky looking bra or adhesive. This often made me despise them. When I started dating, I would often wear a shell underneath anything with a plunging neckline because it was where men eyes would go first. It drove me crazy. One day I spoke to my aunt about how irritated my jugs made me. She said “girl people pay big bucks for what you naturally have.” I thought to myself she’s right. The idea of possibly not having one of my biggest physical features I’ve attached to women-hood makes me sad. Makes me wish I’d appreciated them more. Hell I even wish I’d dressed a little sexier because I’m more on the conservative side. What if my honey can’t handle having a woman without breast? These are real thoughts.
Before anyone reading this says why are you thinking like this when you’re not sure what will happen. I’m very positive and you have to be in this kind of situation, but I’m realistic as well and I have to be prepared to hear whatever he has to say be it what I want to hear or not. This cancer ordeal is trippy I tell you. At the end of the day I know that God is in control of this situation. We’re pretty much BFF’s at this point. I’ve never prayed so much in my entire life. I think I say gajillion mini prayers throughout my day….lol
I’m just one of many people going through this. I have my good days and not so good days. We’re humans doing the best we can with the hand we’ve been dealt. Sending whoever’s reading this peace and love always.