Visited the plastic surgeon today  because, well, I still have cancer and I needed to discuss breast reconstruction post-mastectomy.  I had certainly given this much consideration in the past few days and also discussed it with oncologist who articulated that it was my decision and I should do whatever I thought would make me happiest. 

So I went to pastic office today 99.99% certain I didn’t want reconstruction.  I was waiting for someone or something there to provide the compelling reason to replace these defective mammaries with a couple of new, improved pretend ones.  And it didn’t happen.  In fact, I made quite the composed and compelling argument to forego reconstruction and implants.  Both the attending nurse and later the doctor were surprised.  They said some women delay the implants but they have never had someone just choose to be boobless.  But the plastic man will still finish the surgery.  He will make me smooth and install the drains after cancer surgeon removes the tumor by way of the entire breast(s).  Plastic guy mentioned that I can always pursue reconstruction if I change my mind down the road.

So I am thinking how being boobless will impact my wardrobe and ultimately, I think I may not be able to wear some of these big shirts I have moved into after gaining so much weight.  But I have plenty – PLENTY – of smaller shirts that may fit better after Rita and Lucy are exiled.  And I believe a swimshirt, just like the surfers wear, will replace a bathing suit top.  A swimshirt is a welcome layer of protection from the sun.  I already have terrible sun damage on my chest so covering it up with a swim shirt seems like a beneficial solution.

As for a life without boobs, well I have spent the better part of my life participating in sports of some kind.  I am fat now, but before I was fat I played raquetball, I was a triathlete, a sailor, a runner and a golfer.  In all of those sports, and any sport not called “pole dancing”, boobs are a detriment.  They don’t make good athletes better.  So there you go.

In social or professional settings I may still wear my  Genie Bra – with some extra padded cups just to provide a little shape – as I go about my post-surgery life.  I will see if I think I look odd sans boobs and then decide.  But for now I think the Catholic nun look will suit me just fine.

The next big hurdle is coming up in 5 days.  I am scheduled for PET and MRI on Tuesday afternoon.  I need them to to be clean and show no cancer anywhere else.  

For the most part I am doing well.  But occasionally, the fear breaks over me like a tsunami that I can’t outrun.  And in those moments my lip quivers, my eyes water, and I become a child again.  

But I still plan to kick cancer’s ass.