Pre Ops And Panic

Ok, well that title might be slimly dramatic.
But nevertheless, this is really getting real.

I imagined my first mammogram happening at a much riper age than the one I am currently at. I didn't picture it being for anything other than routine, but just pictured myself, you know… older. But there I was, topless with a stranger, and a large machine clenched around each breast. I felt so funny in the waiting room, before I went in for my exam. I looked around at the other ladies in the waiting room with me, all of us with our little robes on together, and I imagined their stories and why they might be there too. I hoped they were there for just routine exams, but realized also that that might not be the case. And I started to feel sad. And a little selfish. That on this day that was SUCH a non event for me, and technically classified as "just cosmetic", those ladies might be facing such a hard battle.

It's hard not to shake those feelings. To think that what I'm doing is just in vain. Because part of it is. That's the truth of the matter.

And then the guilt. But I feel that way pretty often as a mom and a wife, and I do think that's a normal part of those roles. That guilt sort of follows us women around, and creeps its way in at the most inopportune times. We question whether we should be spending money on those new jeans when the kids could use an extra pair of shoes instead. And we stop ourselves from taking the first bite of anything before anyone else has. Are we spending enough time with our spouse? Maybe I could have stayed up just a little later to get that last load of laundry done? Creepy guilt. Forking over those cashier's checks today, just a month before Christmas, there was that guilt [but also an immense amount of THANKS that we're now in a position to DO this, thanks to Beachbody].

And so these past few weeks of all of this preparation and planning for an event that's going to have me laid out for a solid week, probably longer, and no lifting my kids, or bending down to pick things up for them, or bathing them… I could go on and on. It's been a roller coaster. My to do list to make sure I'm ready for this thing is a mile long, and keeps me up at night. When I was 22 and had my original breast augmentation, I was newly engaged, but didn't have to worry. I wasn't responsible FOR anyone. I signed those disclosure papers with maybe a tiny twinge of the reality of the situation, but nothing even close to what these past few weeks have been like.

But yet, I'm EXCITED. I know what's on the other side of the pain I know I'll experience. And I WANT that. I'm not really imagining what I'll physically look like [although I can only imagine it's going to be a hell of a lot better than the pre-op photos my nurse took of me today in those hideous white surgical panties]. But more than that, I see myself visiting family in California next Summer, and actually taking my tank top OFF. Wearing a bikini in public for the first time in 6 years, and being able to run around with my kids on the sand without worrying about something "showing". I imagine myself living without back pain because my abdominals will be "back together" where they belong. That's what I imagine.

So between now and that time, I will continue to prep, and know that my support system is BIG. The loving words I received when I "came out" to you all last week was like therapy for my heart. I'll probably be done with my Christmas shopping earlier than I've ever been, the house will be completely decorated, and I'll actually have Christmas cards sent out this year AND on time, lol, just so I know it's ALL DONE before my surgery date [which is December 12th, for those of you who've asked]. It's been a rush to know this actually happening. And even though there's an incredible mix of emotions, I am manifesting ONLY the positive. I know that my body is fit and healthy and strong, and I am capable of having a flawless recovery. I am focusing on the good, and clearing out any thoughts that don't give me strength.