Reclaiming My Body: Non-Emergent Surgery with Metastatic Breast Cancer

The day has finally come. My date for surgery has arrived. Having a non-emergent surgery has been a surreal experience, and I’ll tell you why. I naturally have a lot of anxiety, especially when it comes to my cancer care. I have been wronged in the past, and wronged in ways that aren’t even the normal kind of wrongdoing. For starters, nobody caught my full term pregnancy. When I transferred my care to another state, there was an entire line of treatment missing in my notes. I could go on.

Surgery is also kind of scary. It feels unnatural, and someone else is in charge. I never do well with that kind of thing. I have a hard time flying, so I have a hard time trusting someone with my surgical care. However, this doctor is really incredible, and I feel really comfortable with her. I am very hopeful that she will take really good care of me.

The long road to surgery

It also took a while to get here. For a long time, I fought for what I thought would be a two-breast reconstruction type of deal. I met with a few surgeons that dashed my hopes pretty quickly. I was not only “too fat” for either option, but both of them were too invasive for my liking. I already had quite a few scars; I didn’t need quite a few more (at the time).

Now that my day has finally arrived, I am a little sad for my body and more scars, but mostly, I am excited. My back hurts, and my shoulders hurt, and I’m ready to be able to wear clothes with confidence again. It certainly has been a long time. I can feel at home in my body once more, instead of feeling like an absolute stranger to it.

Finding my center again

When I woke up from my first mastectomy, I had felt like I was given a different body. Things weren’t quite the same, but they weren’t all that different either. It’s taken me almost eight years to figure out why. Ever since that day in May, my body has been lopsided. I leaned differently, I slept differently, and I walked differently. I have been doing that ever since, and I’m ready to find my center once more.

Rebellious hope

I know that it can be silly to feel like it will all be better after a simple surgery. It won’t be, and I know that. I’m not so much in the clouds as I’m rebelliously hopeful, as one of the greats used to say. This surgery isn’t to take away any cancer. It isn’t to stop any estrogen from entering my body either. This surgery is for me and me alone, and that can be an interesting path to walk.

My quality of life is important, and sometimes that can be lost in the day-to-day Cancerland life. I have to remember, I live in here. I have to wake up every day and walk with my body. I should feel at home in my body.