Encore Performances

I’ve tried to explain to my family and others, why at times I’m less bothered about certain things than I used to be. Look, to be honest – this has surprised even me on many occasions!

Fact is – at times, I just don’t care for or about some of the things I used to.

I’m still a ‘determined little shit’ as those close to me know, but my inclination to persevere with things that don’t matter, is far less.

The simplest way for me to reason this in my head is that old instinct of fight Vs flight. After not having that option when I was diagnosed (i.e. I had to fight), I now can make the choice. Every now and then, my choice is flight.

Just now I’m starting to feel tired from the work that had to be done. Perhaps in the past 15 months I’ve chewed up a bit of that power to fight.

Turns out finding a bra to fit the new implants/shape (and comfortably) is quite a task.

In discussing this with my friend Shannan at work (similar size – but naturally!), the conversation quickly turned from bra’s, to scars. Complete with show and tell. The things we do.

I’ve been back to the department stores, hoping desperately to just pull something off the rack (….sorry), and be, well normal. Since being given details on a mastectomy/reconstruction bra fitting specialist about a year ago (and also flinching when hearing this lady speak at the Cancer Council, about the special pockets etc. for different soft forms, or prostheses), I have fought the need to go to her store.

Now is obviously the right time.

I’m no longer needing the compression-style, post-surgery bra 24/7. I am still sleeping in it though, for comfort believe it or not.

I’ve been told I can go without a bra, but seriously – my first set of implants decided they’d like to go South and East and West – so I’m not prepared to let these ones escape.

So, after trying the first lot of new bras again – being terribly irritated around the new scars and scoring two new red lines on an angle where they’re obviously too tight (I can’t feel them), trying the ‘normal’ bras from the usual lingerie departments but finding they were uncomfortable and had tell-tale baggy spots where the nipples ought to be – I went to see Felicity.

Cool, calm and collected, not fazed by my disfigurement, but interested in what had happened, at what age and over what period of time, she was great.

Two new bra’s in hand, I’ll see how the new set goes in these.

I’ve been holding off getting in the water, but that has been the one thing I’ve wanted to do, been aiming for through each of the 5 surgeries – to be stitched up and well enough to get in.

It’s not the swimming so much (although I would love to do a few laps), but just to be submerged in the water. To let my body feel light, supported and pain free – even if just for a few minutes. Ohhh, how badly I miss that feeling.

So, in a moment of madness I pulled on the togs (which aren’t nearly as flattering-a-cut as they were) and made my way to an indoor heated pool.

I was prepared this time for the crushing, constricting feeling across my chest. Or at least I thought I was.

In I slid. I froze, perhaps with fear. A big deep breath and as I submerged under the surface a wave of shock saw tears come from nowhere almost the second my face hit the water (not a very workable combination!)

Some people say some funny things. They’re not always meant to be funny though.

After explaining to a new acquaintance what had happened with ‘the boobs’, she was interested in seeing the end result. After the obligatory warnings – I lifted my shirt. As I did this lady exclaimed “a lot of girls would die for boobs like that!”

A close friend who was with us (and shall remain nameless, in order to protect the other lady’s identity), looked at me, we both paused and stared. She finally broke the silence by saying what we both were thinking “….well, she could have”.

We laughed, but the other lady nearly ‘died from embarrassment’.

For the moment my exercise routine is a bit hit and miss. I jump on the bike (still on the wind trainer..), or treadmill when time and energy permits.

Taking Ch’i for a walk, walking up to the farmers markets and doing a little gentle Tai Chi rounds out my efforts at this point in time.

I’m very keen to get rid of these couple of kilos (actually it’s not the weight, it’s the horrible, unfamiliar shape I’m wanting to alter), but am not prepared (just yet) to go back to the gym or pilates where I may inadvertently cause stretching or damage to the reconstructed area.

I would also love to go for a swim, however I’ve promised not to for a while, until everything is settled. Anyway – it was 5 degrees this morning and indoor heated pools here on the Coast are few and far between (I say indoor because I’d freeze getting in and out of an outdoor pool!).

I swear I can feel my chest muscles seize up and make me highly uncomfortable when I get really cold. It’s quite a shock to the system and most unpleasant. Just on that, my doctor recently told me of a patient who’d had an augmentation with silicone implants and complained that when she went skiing in Aspen (as you do…), they froze solid. No kidding.

(Looks like my lifelong dream of going to Antarctica might now have to include an auto-heat bra or vest, or maybe I could seek out a sponsorship deal with a thermal company!)

I’ll keep this post short and sweet.

One of the very simple lessons I’ve learnt from this BC experience is;

Read into that what you will, but that’s it.

Going back to work this time was just as daunting, but in reality – not quite as scary.

I was nervous about having the stamina to get through a full day (which meant I didn’t sleep well the night before, which in turn made me more tired!), but managed okay. My second day back was a little more difficult physically, so I kept up regular pain relief and had a coffee or two more than I usually do.

Everyone seemed genuinely happy to have me back in the building and was very supportive. Clearly, these colleagues of mine have plenty of experience in dealing with people undergoing treatment for/as a result of cancer.

Day three, I was excited to be really getting back into it. But as I dressed for work, things changed very quickly. Showered, hair and make-up done, I pull on some suit pants only to discover I couldn’t do up the zip. Instantly my eyes filled with tears. No matter how hard I tried they wouldn’t stop. I know I’ve put on weight but not being able to get my pants done up! It was all too much. I went into a spin about what to wear, tried something else, looked in the mirror and howled. I don’t feel like my old self and now I don’t recognise myself.

As I study my reflection, see the tear-stained cheeks, odd-looking chest and extra padding around my middle and legs I feel angry. Then sad. Then annoyed at now potentially being late for work.

Yeah, I’m fine.

So when you hear me say I’ve ‘had a moment’, it’s probably something as silly as this.

So..

I’m feeling not-so-sick, but am still pretty tired. At times I’d love to jump in for a long, slow swim (my body would thank me for it – I know…), at others getting through the day-to-day washing, dinner + a bit of light exercise like a walk/bike ride (not on the road!) is enough.

Some nights I sleep like a log, others – I absolutely fit the label ‘insomniac’.

As I prepare to return to work later this week there’s a lot going on in this busy little mind. In no specific order – here are some of the things which occupy my thoughts;

• What can/should I be doing to stop it coming back?
• What sort of monitoring regime should I submit to?
• How the hell do I get used to this?
• I got all sentimental yesterday when buying, of all things – a beautiful aromatherapy candle. It was called ‘Little Black Dress’. I fell in love with the fragrance and hoped that one day I would once again pull on a ‘LBD’ and feel good.
• Should we stay in this house (which is beautiful, but full of some rather painful memories. And – the stairs!)
• What about heading back up the Mountain? It’s so special…quiet, peaceful and I’m sure the environment is healing..But, could I handle the driving (even if only a few days a week)?
• I love ‘doing’ new places, is a reno close to home a new challenge I’d enjoy?
• Study..Ohhh study…I’ve been investigating taking up everything from Health Sciences to MBBS. Sure I’ve got the desire – genuinely, but have I got the stamina and intellect?
• My career. All that hard work, which brought both immense satisfaction and damaging stress. Gone. I walked away.
• What will become of the relationships which have changed so dramatically as a result of this experience? Why do I sometimes feel a bit, well – left behind? Note to self – think of all the new and wonderful people in your life, and some of the experiences shared as a result of this diagnosis.
• Taking a break. Would a weekend/week on my own, or longer break for both Paul and I be of benefit? (Nothing like trying to run away..)
• On that – should I/we be seeking some sort of counselling/assistance in helping with the impact of this cancer/adjustment/new life?

Will life ever be the same again?

Guess not huh, but that brings me back to that old saying repeated time and time again by my dear Mum ‘everything happens for a reason’. I feel like I’m getting closer to understanding the reason for this, but am not quite there yet.

Geez we hear that a lot now.

This is a little strange coming from someone who revels in sharing with people, being surrounded by other people – but I admit I’ve felt the need for a bit of ‘me time’ to varying degrees, a fair bit over the past 12 months.

Although my previous life (as in the radio world +very active social scene) was full, there was actually a lot of flying solo. Usually the only other people awake when I went to work at 2.30am were cops, ambos, cabbies and the bakers! I had no contact with anyone for the first couple of hours of my day, before the majority of my work was conducted in a studio with only a few other people and over the phone. I then went home and slept for the remainder of the day!

Being in busy waiting rooms and hospitals, having not just one person but several attend to my medical needs and also being awake for the daylight hours has been quite a turnaround for me!

I’ve read cancer patients say ‘you really get the chance to know yourself when diagnosed with a potentially life threatening illness’, I agree. Perhaps that’s why on occasion I crave an escape, to get to know me – as I am now. (Or maybe it’s because I’ve spent so much time laid up I want to get out of the house!) Just me (and maybe Ch’i…), to let my mind sift through some of the challenges I’ve faced lately.

At times I find myself staring into space – thinking a million thoughts. I know meditation is to clear your mind of thoughts, but this is like a busy meditation, time to just think.

Initially I thought these feelings were completely selfish, but am now looking at things in a different way. This is for me to do, no one else can feel like I do about this ‘journey’, so allowing myself that time and space is not selfish in a taking way, but rather a healthy fulfilling way.

Me time.

Yes! Really – just to be feeling a bit more human is a simple pleasure.

I think the main thing is I’m not dealing with constant pain now, just discomfort if I’ve slept in an awkward position or a jabbing/pulling sort of ‘ouch’ if I reach at a bad angle/too high for something.

I’ve had a big week (and yes, there has been the old ‘nanna naps’ most afternoons). Managing almost everything around the house on my own, even wearing a pullover top (!) and…..going for my first drive since the latest surgery.

Basic on some level, but very important.

The driving hasn’t been as much of a challenge this time around, as I’ve only been off the road for a month. I’m really good on the main roads (’cause they’re usually straight!), am negotiating corners without too much drama, but parking (particularly reverse parking – which is usually my preference), requires a lot of effort.

Slowly but surely.

Okay – it might be whale migration season here on the Gold Coast, but I found myself joking with a friend earlier in the week that it’s me feeling like one of those giants of the deep.

Three weeks of eating whenever I’m hungry, lying/sitting around and restricted movement (doing laps of the kitchen & going up & down the stairs doesn’t really count!).

I’m feeling like going for a walk – even doing Tai Chi to take a bit of the edge off, but to be honest just don’t feel overly strong.

So….Baby steps. Walking to the corner and back, then around the block and I’m happy to say this morning I trudged a few km’s before enjoying a long hot shower. Footnote – I then curled up in bed and slept for three hours!!

Guess swimming at the Masters Games later in the year is a rather ambitious goal at this point. Still, even 50mtrs would qualify as taking part! Watch me!!

Geez, I’d love to go for a swim….(must wait at least another fortnight though…)

Now I’ve explained how weird it is not having nipples, here are a few other pointers (I know, I know – dreadful….)

Pros;

• Flimsy bras are just fine, no more T-Shirt style (cover the bits) bras necessary,
• The people making those stick-on ‘nipple covers’ will never make a cent out of me,
• No one will know when I’m cold!!

Cons;

• Sensation is gone, finito, finished (doesn’t seem like much, but a second or two’s thought on exactly how this can impact on some areas of your life is quite telling). There’s nothin’ (except an angry little reminder now & again in the form of a burning hot jab).
• Inability to breast feed,
• That little bump we all try so hard to cover isn’t there, so some outfits don’t fit and in others it’s obvious the bumps aren’t there.

The breast cancer vaccine is great news — for mice – Times Online