A year ago, to the day, I had a double mastectomy. This was proceeded by years of pain, years of problems and years of complications. I had finally found the correct doctor for my problem and she was taking the RIGHT action. Despite me knowing that this was going to be for the best, I could not help but be terrified.
What would happen to me? How would this affect my life? Would I ever be able to find a partner again? Would I ever be attractive again? How would my form and silhouette be influenced?
Fears aside, one of the bravest people I know, my Angela, drove me to the hospital that day. She sat with me, she help my hand, she made me laughed, she wiped my tears. She even gave me red lipstick to wear. I was wheeled in and I lost my breasts and my left nipple. The plastic surgeon attempted to give me one and so my right nipple was also affected as she took tissue from the area.
The pain was excruciating and the recovery, weeks, and months. The trips back to the wound and dressing department of the Milpark, the assistance and love and care from my neighbour, Jackie, as she took me backwards and forwards week after week, sometimes twice in the same week. The exhaustion of medical aid, the exhaustion of ME, as I could not sleep, and had a drain.
The amazing friends, Erica and Janine, who came and brought me food when I was unable to care for my children myself, they stepped in. My amazing daughter who bathed me, who dressed me, who never once complained. To her I will be eternally grateful. My Ish who without fail messaged me every day to see how I was.
And then one day my amazing mentor and friend, Eugenie, put me into contact with an amazing breast coach, situated in Trinidad and Tobago, Nicole. Nicole forced me to look at my body, to acknowledge what I looked for, and what had happened, and to mourn. She changed my self-perception and my self-appreciation and continues to work on me with love and patience.
I am now at a stage where the amazing and talented Charmaine is tattooing me and helping me to come full circle. To give me nipples again where before there was only skin. Is this a matter of pride? Most definitely NOT. Its a matter of femininity. Of identity. Of self.
So I did not have cancer. And my journey did not include chemotherapy or radiation and at no stage was my life in imminent danger. But my identity, my self, and my very soul were.
And today I say thank you to those souls who gave me so much at a time when I had so little to give back. I love and I thank you.
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