Back to the hard place. I wasn't serious when I titled this blog. I've been in denial about the possibility of a bilateral mastectomy. My skillful surgeon recommends I consider this approach which will increase my chances for a cure.
It's taken a week to put my emotional response into words. My moods were as unpredictable as a sudden storm.
Another Taxol treatment followed my surgeon's sobering news. The treatment went well, but two days later, the steroids wore off and I felt physically and emotionally flat. I walked the dogs in spite of total exhaustion. I made myself go out every day. I can't let the process beat me.
I went for a massage. Massage is the one thing that helps me through the hard places. Massage heals my body and refreshes my spirit. My thanks to the girls at the best spa in Maine, Rejuvinations, especially to Liz for her gracious support and love.
I'm adjusting, accepting the next step, and remembering my awesome medical team: a rockin' oncologist with a professional, perky nursing staff, an exceptional surgeon with matching staff (thanks, Betsy!), and my BFF Jami in the treatment center.
Special thanks to Kay for coming home this weekend just because I asked (read: whined) and for our shoe-fest at Macy's, to Pat for the calls and texts all weekend and the best T-shirt ever and to my son Matt for being here for me.
And then there's my soul sister, Claudette. Caring, sincere, affectionate, she helps me process the hard stuff with empathy and seriously wicked humor!
New, perky, cancer-free boobs are in my future, "size B happy."
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