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surgery

Who’s Afraid of A Double Mastectomy?

Virginia Woolf famously wrote, “A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.”

If she is to recover from a double mastectomy and reconstruction, the list gets a bit longer. Money (or insurance or a really good payment plan), a room of her own, a recliner, blackout curtains, painkillers, a crocheted blanket, a Bible, a noise machine, a lap dog, squishy pillows, dry shampoo, hand sanitizer, child care, bone broth, an escape hatch…

I mean, just based on my experience.  Continue reading “Who’s Afraid of A Double Mastectomy?”

Teach Me to Number My Days (and Ditch the Impulse Buy)

Guys. Post-surgery rest, the Internet, and a tendency to brood are a bad combo. I was warned about this, but unwisely, voluntarily, boarded the Breast Cancer Worry Roller Coaster last week. Face-palm. Face-palm. Face-palm.

Here’s the good news: I’ve exited to the right of the ride, the surgery on January 31* was successful, and I think I’ve learned (or re-learned) a few things. I pray that if you read this, you will be encouraged rather than discouraged. Continue reading “Teach Me to Number My Days (and Ditch the Impulse Buy)”

A Prayer for Lightheartedness

Lord willing, the surgery part of my cancer treatment begins tomorrow. Sometimes plans change, but surgery is what we are packing (and stress-eating) for. Continue reading “A Prayer for Lightheartedness”

These Boots Were Made for Fighting

Back in June when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, one of the decisions I had to make was, “Should I do surgery first, or should I do chemotherapy first?” Doctors’ opinions and research led us to believe either approach would work well in my case. I preferred neoadjuvant chemotherapy (chemo before surgery), so we went with that. I wanted to see the chemotherapy shrink the tumor. I wanted to hurry up and start a fight with any microscopic cancer cells hanging around. And, at the time, chemotherapy sounded worse, so I also wanted to just get it over with.  Continue reading “These Boots Were Made for Fighting”

Surgery and Oncology and Parenting, Oh…My…

On the way back from one of my appointments this week I saw a squirrel shimmying across a telephone wire. The squirrel had a wide distance to cover. It looked precarious to me, and a bit unnatural. I would have preferred to see that squirrel in a tree.

But I knew it would make it across the wire.

Continue reading “Surgery and Oncology and Parenting, Oh…My…”

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