Flat, But Not Flatlined
Today I am grateful for my health and that in cancer terms I currently can be described as NED (no evidence of disease). I am also grateful for self-acceptance of this scarred body of mine.
I get a publication titled Cure. It is focused on cancer and is free to cancer patients. I have been receiving it for years and appreciate how informative and readable it is. It doesn't focus on one kind of cancer or one aspect of the disease. I can read about cutting edge research as well as personal stories from patients and caregivers. Check it out at cure today.com.
A recent special issue on breast cancer carried the cover headline of "Flat, But Not Flattened." Needless to say, it caught my eye. I always am interested to read about women like me who have opted to not have reconstruction following mastectomy.
I have several ways to refer to my new chest terrain following bilateral mastectomy. "The area formerly known as my breasts." and "strange vacancy" are two of them. Flat and free. Flat, but not flat affect. And as I read this most recent cover story, I thought about "flat, but not flatlined." I am alive. I have not flatlined. I am not remaining static, nor is my level of gratefulness and energy toward life.
I have lived life just as fully without breasts as I did with them. Arguably more fully in ways. There's something to be said for going through the fear and upheaval of a cancer diagnosis and treatment, toiling long and hard over decisions about what to do about body parts, and coming out the other side minus two breasts, but more deeply in tune to what it means to be alive and to be a woman.
A key reason I opted to not have reconstruction is because I wanted the best chance to keep running comfortably and I wanted to avoid further surgeries and possible complications or chronic pain. I miss my breasts, but I would miss running so much more.
I have felt self-conscious, known real grief, processed a range of emotions, and much more concerning the loss of my breasts. But it is a choice I have not regretted, and a choice I am grateful I felt free to make. It was my decision alone, but my husband Darcy and others supported it then and still do now. There is so much more to me, to all of us, than body parts.
Here, and here, are two other posts I have written along these lines.
I will take my flat chest and grateful heart and head into today with hope and energy. It's an opportunity some no longer have. Life is precious, life is fragile.
I get a publication titled Cure. It is focused on cancer and is free to cancer patients. I have been receiving it for years and appreciate how informative and readable it is. It doesn't focus on one kind of cancer or one aspect of the disease. I can read about cutting edge research as well as personal stories from patients and caregivers. Check it out at cure today.com.
A recent special issue on breast cancer carried the cover headline of "Flat, But Not Flattened." Needless to say, it caught my eye. I always am interested to read about women like me who have opted to not have reconstruction following mastectomy.
I have several ways to refer to my new chest terrain following bilateral mastectomy. "The area formerly known as my breasts." and "strange vacancy" are two of them. Flat and free. Flat, but not flat affect. And as I read this most recent cover story, I thought about "flat, but not flatlined." I am alive. I have not flatlined. I am not remaining static, nor is my level of gratefulness and energy toward life.
I have lived life just as fully without breasts as I did with them. Arguably more fully in ways. There's something to be said for going through the fear and upheaval of a cancer diagnosis and treatment, toiling long and hard over decisions about what to do about body parts, and coming out the other side minus two breasts, but more deeply in tune to what it means to be alive and to be a woman.
A key reason I opted to not have reconstruction is because I wanted the best chance to keep running comfortably and I wanted to avoid further surgeries and possible complications or chronic pain. I miss my breasts, but I would miss running so much more.
I have felt self-conscious, known real grief, processed a range of emotions, and much more concerning the loss of my breasts. But it is a choice I have not regretted, and a choice I am grateful I felt free to make. It was my decision alone, but my husband Darcy and others supported it then and still do now. There is so much more to me, to all of us, than body parts.
Here, and here, are two other posts I have written along these lines.
I will take my flat chest and grateful heart and head into today with hope and energy. It's an opportunity some no longer have. Life is precious, life is fragile.
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