Day 18 Justice

When the surgeon asked me: "Why do you want the Diep Flap procedure?" I said "Justice."  This was my idea of a give and take negotiation with my cancer, a deal with my devil so to speak.  You take my breasts and I can take all of this unwelcome fat around my middle and move it up.  Justice.

It took a lot for me to surrender to the tissue expanders.  My surgeon had to go into all of the stuff that I knew but had depressed.  Tissue death being the major here, followed by radiation damage.  She told me she crys when the Tram and Diep Flap patients have to undergo the radiation which shrinks the breast.  A donor tissue breast cannot be rebuilt, ever.  Implants can be redone if needed.  Lots of stuff can kill your donor tissue, the procedure is very long, anethesia is high risk.  Recovery takes months, not weeks.

Heavy sigh.  I was looking at this like my silver lining and I am shocked by how disappointed I am.  I hate my tummy and it is never going away.  I love my breasts and they are.  I cry half way home while my husband holds my wet, snotty hand.

Sometimes that is what you need to turn yourself around, a rollicking pity party with just you and your dearest friend.  After I was finished being weepy I looked at what I did have:  Healthy children, a loving husband, a job I love (not to mention a job in this economy,)  my husband has a steady job, we have two cars in good repair, my fridge is full of food, my in-laws are always right there if I need help, I am surrounded with people and animals who love me, I have a roof over my head, my insurance is good AND I bought cancer insurance several years back.  I will continue to have all of that along with pretty implants and a tummy, I will be zaftig.   That's Yiddish for round, curvy, or literally "juicy."   And, because of Cancer I will from now on, know that I have more than enough.

Justice.