Total recall. That’s exactly what I experienced this week when I glanced at a picture of a woman post-op with a bi-lateral mastectomy. Her name is Susie. She’s a blogger, an extrovert, with a wild sense of humor. So it was natural for Susie to put herself out there dressed in a tight elastic bra with two drains hanging down each side of her body.
With one glance, I saw myself, the ME of two years ago. Oh, God. that woman was ME! My stomach clenched, my body shivered and tears welled. My chest hurt. It hurt a lot, partly in sympathy and partly because it still hurts from scar tissue. I recalled the whole experience in a nanosecond. I shouted at the computer screen, “No, no. I can’t go back there.” And like magic, the feeling passed, and I stared again, calmly, at the picture of another warrior who hadn’t volunteered for service. We’d both been drafted into this battle against breast cancer.
I’ve viewed many pictures of women with cancer. Many were the before and after chemo photos. You know the ones I mean: thick head of hair vs. baldness. I’ve viewed dozens and dozens of reconstructed breasts, the products of talented plastic surgeons. I’ve also seen many pictures of women who chose to remain flat after their surgeries. It’s always good to have choices.
But I have never, other than in my own mirror, seen a photo of a women within a week of having had bi-lateral mastectomy surgery. I have never seen someone else before the drains have been removed. Before the first doctor’s appointment. Before raising the arms is possible. One glance at Susie, and I was back there. Remembering, remembering…I remembered everything all too well.
I suspect that I experienced a taste of PTSD–post traumatic stress disorder–that our uniformed warriors live with for many years, some for a lifetime. My little taste wasn’t pretty. In fact, It was scary. Fortunately, I also recalled the love and support of family, friends and others who have walked the same path, and I was able to return to my normal, ordinary world without fuss. My computer screen soon reflected my current work in progress, a story which had nothing to do with breast cancer.
As for Susie? She’s fearless. With the love and support of her family and friends, “normal” is just down the block and around the corner.
Comments– I think courage comes in many forms. From the hero who sweeps a child away from an on-coming car to the single parent taking full responsibility for her family day in and day out. We all show our grit at some time in our lives, often many times. How are you fearless? Is your courage obvious or quiet? Make a comment and you’ll be entered into the June drawing (see below for details).
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I don’t know whether Susie’s cancer is inherited or not, but mine is. I support the non-profit organization called Facing Our Risk of Cancer Empowered, or FORCE. This is the only foundation in the country that focuses on hereditary breast and ovarian cancer. To find out more about FORCE, visit their website at: www.facingourrisk.org
JUNE CONTEST!! Make a comment and your name will be entered into a fabulous drawing. Prizes are your choice of two of the six books shown below plus a $25 gift certificate to Amazon or BN. Browse them at your favorite etailer where you can Look Inside the Book.
As always, thank you for stopping by. I hope to see you for the next edition of Starting Over.
Linda