On the trip from recovery back to my room, the entire hospital was treated to me singing out “All gone!”
The cancer yes, and boy was I relieved. But also my breasts. The nursing staff in recovery had a hard time stopping me from pulling down the gown to have a look. No messing about here.
I promise, this is as gruesome as it gets.
Okay the right one is blue from that dye I mentioned earlier, the blue tubes in the centre and to the side are drains, and the big saucer-sized bumpy things under my skin are the start of my new boobs. They are tissue expanders. A thick silicone bag – kind of like a balloon which will be filled with saline over the next month/two.
Observations complete (by myself and family) I was determined to get up and to the bathroom on my own and change before heading back to bed.
A lot of the personal accounts of breast cancer sufferers I’ve read point to many women really struggling to look at themselves in the mirror following mastectomy and feeling an overwhelming sense of grief at what they’ve lost and what’s happened. Having had a few minutes on my own in front of bathroom mirror my family and nurse were braced for me to emerge with some tears – but instead I was laughing. You see that blue dye they injected earlier in the day had to come out somehow – and for some strange reason (I’ll blame the drugs..) I found much amusement in peeing like a smurf!
Encore Performances 
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