The Body Parts that Matter (Point #6)
Today I am grateful for a visit from my sister Ruth and her friend Bob. I am also grateful I was able to go just down the road to our local library to meet author Lt. Col. Mark M. Weber and have him sign his book for me.
His book is titled Tell My Sons. Weber is dying of cancer and the book is a letter and a legacy to his three sons. I read the preface and introduction as I waited in line. I am already taken in by the whole idea of this book, but I am in the middle of another book, so I will report back on both when I am done reading them.
Point of clarity #6 is "I can live without my breasts. Just don't take my heart and soul."
Breasts are a feminine hallmark, but they are far from the only thing that defines women. I wrote this line, "I am not less of a woman, just a woman less her breasts," in an essay that appears on Gayle Sulik's Pink Ribbon Blues blog. Here is a link to that guest post titled "What Lies Beneath" from a year ago:
What Lies Beneath
I have also written "in ways, my breasts were more attached to me than I was to them." I don't say that lightly, just honestly. I have never been a girly-girl or one to show cleavage in public. I grew up an athletic tomboy. Make no mistake, I would have preferred to keep my God-given breasts. But my life's perspective made the no reconstruction option the best one for me. I do not judge other women's choices when it comes to breast cancer surgeries and reconstruction decisions. They are deeply personal choices. I just ask not be judged for my choices either. I am always willing to talk to anyone about why I made the choices I did and how I feel about them now. (No regrets here.)
I remember missing my breasts in the early weeks and months after my mastectomies. For a variety of reasons, some too personal for this venue. There was a strange vacancy when I could start sleeping on my side again. There was phantom pain or an itch in non-existent body parts. It took time, but I healed physically and emotionally. It is possible to live a rich and full life without breasts. I am living proof of that. (Rich and full defined by me of course.)
Cancer surgery literally made my heart "closer to the surface." But figuratively cancer made my heart and soul more prominent as well. Those weeks and months after my breasts were removed were a case in point of how gratitude for what I had helped me through. I focused on what I still had, rather than hashing over what I had lost. It works. It really does.
His book is titled Tell My Sons. Weber is dying of cancer and the book is a letter and a legacy to his three sons. I read the preface and introduction as I waited in line. I am already taken in by the whole idea of this book, but I am in the middle of another book, so I will report back on both when I am done reading them.
Point of clarity #6 is "I can live without my breasts. Just don't take my heart and soul."
Breasts are a feminine hallmark, but they are far from the only thing that defines women. I wrote this line, "I am not less of a woman, just a woman less her breasts," in an essay that appears on Gayle Sulik's Pink Ribbon Blues blog. Here is a link to that guest post titled "What Lies Beneath" from a year ago:
What Lies Beneath
I have also written "in ways, my breasts were more attached to me than I was to them." I don't say that lightly, just honestly. I have never been a girly-girl or one to show cleavage in public. I grew up an athletic tomboy. Make no mistake, I would have preferred to keep my God-given breasts. But my life's perspective made the no reconstruction option the best one for me. I do not judge other women's choices when it comes to breast cancer surgeries and reconstruction decisions. They are deeply personal choices. I just ask not be judged for my choices either. I am always willing to talk to anyone about why I made the choices I did and how I feel about them now. (No regrets here.)
I remember missing my breasts in the early weeks and months after my mastectomies. For a variety of reasons, some too personal for this venue. There was a strange vacancy when I could start sleeping on my side again. There was phantom pain or an itch in non-existent body parts. It took time, but I healed physically and emotionally. It is possible to live a rich and full life without breasts. I am living proof of that. (Rich and full defined by me of course.)
Cancer surgery literally made my heart "closer to the surface." But figuratively cancer made my heart and soul more prominent as well. Those weeks and months after my breasts were removed were a case in point of how gratitude for what I had helped me through. I focused on what I still had, rather than hashing over what I had lost. It works. It really does.
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