Size matters

Why do I do this to myself? Sometimes a video of something will play in my head, and somehow it becomes the truth. To me. Then the kernel of a stupid truth stays in my head so long, I don’t think to ask. In this case, it’s about Barbie boobs. I’ve been walking around second guessing myself about size since I didn’t ask to go bigger. Should I have? I mistakenly thought if you got boobs bigger than your original size, insurance would consider it “cosmetic” and not cover the extra cup size. (Insert game show buzzer here.) Then the doctor told me, “Oh, we haven’t talked about size yet.” What? It’s not predetermined? No, it’s a function of how much fluid gets put in there. Plus, he said the new boobs would be higher, so I might not want bigger. I don’t want to go all Baywatch. I just wanted to know I could if I wanted. It’s one of the few moments in cancer that offers a choice or some sense of control. The word perky keeps coming up, but I’m still sad. For weeks, my gut will be the biggest part of my body. Plus, the optical illusion of boobs creating a “waist” will be gone. But the risk of getting cancer again will be ground down to a single digit. That’s what I need to remember more than anything.

THREE POSITIVES:

1- The kids are so happy right now. We get to hang out together and pick on each other. Even their arguments amuse me. That won’t last.

2- Took Xena on a long walk up to the volcano, Mt. Tabor. She napped most of the day after trying to get into my purse. What does she want to buy exactly?

3- I got a lot of stuff on my to do list done. That’s the thing about heavy sedation – you have to prepare for it like you’re going to another country.