Some Days...

Some days, I don't know how I feel any more.

Is it possible to be simultaneously grateful to be alive and on the mend, and in a funk?

Friday, I went to the doctor to get pumped up again.  I thought the size of my new girls was pretty close to where I want them to be - I've been able to wear my bras since the last time he added some fill, two weeks ago - and so asked him about it before he added any more fluid.  Sure enough, I am close enough.  No more fills.  My pec muscles have been thanking me all weekend. (Yay!)

It was very surreal.  I was standing there debating the fit of my bra with some guy I barely know - and it felt normal-ish!  No funny vibes, we could have been discussing the best socks to wear hiking, nothing sexual about it.  Maybe that's part of the problem.  I still think my breasts SHOULD have SOME sexuality attached...

I look in the mirror and don't see anything resembling what I had before.  They look normal enough once I add my bra and a shirt, but the picture in the mirror is still pretty grim.  Instead of breast-shaped things on my chest, I have a couple of half-round water balloons attached to plastic plates.  (I can usually make me smile by jiggling them...)

and it strikes me, again, that while most of the trauma and drama are over (thank Goodness), I'm still months away from whatever my new normal will be.

He PROMISES me that the permanent implants are better, much better.  Not near as much jiggling, and no plastic plates.  Surgery is scheduled for July 12th.  This surgery will be much easier on my body and mind; he tells me I'll be back to work in two weeks.  Physically, the surgery is pretty minor.  No deep cuts necessary, I'll leave with all the body parts I came in with; the water balloons gone and replaced by silicone gel - which at least pretends to sorta-kinda move like normal tissue.  I have no idea of what to expect emotionally.  I suspect it'll be the same sort of mixed reaction I had to Friday's news.  Hallelujah, and oh, dear!

I try to focus on the positive, but some days, I just can't seem to zero in.  I can't get past the tight band across the front of my chest; I'm tired of being tired.

This, too, shall pass...