Scars Flown Proud

Surgery day was terrifying. My daughter and my best friend came with me for moral support and I was doing pretty damn well. We were laughing and keeping things…well, sarcastic. That’s how we roll.

Surgery lasted about 4 hours and was a success. I would have to come back in a few weeks to recheck the margins, but everything looked good. Close, but good.

I was in almost no pain. Thank you, drugs! Within 5 1/2 hours, I was up, walking around, and taking selfies.

By the next morning, all I wanted to do was jump ship and get home to my fur babies. I never used button up shirts after surgery. If I was careful, I could put on a regular t-shirt. After all the horror stories, I felt very lucky I was having such an easy go of it. I wasn’t scared of the way my chest looked. I was empowered by them. Those scars were battle wounds; hard won, tender, and raw, but even a day later, they were giving me a sense of strength and power…

and the beauty of a fighter. I earned these. I fought hard. This is cancer.

Party Up In Here!!

The day before my mastectomy I had a “Boob-voyage” party. It wasn’t just important, it was necessary. I was saying goodbye to a big part of my life. They served me well. The girls needed a going away party. Not to mention booze, food, friends, and nudity. Did I mention the food??

The night before the party I used a plaster belly mold kit to have a keepsake and a tangible memory of the twins. My best friend C. helped me and it was a blast! Lots of NSFW photos.

The Boob-Voyage party was rad. Good friends, good food, and the libations were flowing. Even with all that fun, I was just sad. It seemed like something out of a dream after too much Mexican food. The kind where you’re watching your life spin around you in chaos and you’re standing there with you mouth agape and mind spinning, wondering, “What is this fuckery??”

As this rad babe said as she was leaving, “by this time tomorrow, you’ll be cancer free!” Bring on the water works. I realized, I could do it.

Dig deep. You’re a fighter.