Grapefruit

Well, small-ish grapefruit. Or large oranges?

Not like Maxi Mounds, here. But this is precisely how I feel. Except I can't raise my arm, yet.

The pain from my surgery is diminishing. I'm a little tired and a little sore, is all. I can't wait to feel well enough to get back to the gym. Maybe next week?

Ever since the mastectomy, I have been checking out everyone else's boobs. The track on which I run at the rec center is elevated, circling the gym and providing a view onto the floor below. For the last several months, they have been holding a Zoomba class down there, so I run laps while the ladies (and an occasional guy) shake their jiggly bits to Latin fusion. From above, I get a view right down the shirt of every woman there, so it's been a smorgasbord of boobs right there under my nose. Literally.

I think to myself, "Honey, you have a great set! I wonder if I'm going to end up with cleavage like that? Actually ANY kind of cleavage would be awesome."

"Those ones are too big.......a little too big.......too small.......Ah-hah! There! There's a set I'd like!"

So, OK. I have my new boobs now, and they are freaking me out. I sort of thought that this would be a fun stage. Mostly, it's just weird. It's a little bit like someone stapled a couple of mangoes to my chest. I can't feel them. When I walk past a mirror, I do a double-take. What the hell!?!? I usually stop and peer at them. You know when you hold a mirror up in front of a cat? Like that. A couple of times, I have tried to open a closet or cupboard, and been puzzled as to why it is stuck. My boobs are in the way, and I can't tell. I back up an inch and open the cupboard.

I am a little bit afraid of them. Dr. Perfect told me that every time I go to the bathroom, I should reach my arms across my chest, grab the outside of each breast and push upward and in a few times. This is to prevent scar tissue. I dread these exercises, because I can feel the new twins with my hands, but they register nothing. I will admit, though, that they are sort of soft and nice. They are warm like the rest of my skin. I will get used to them. Maybe when the feeling comes back to the right side (formerly known as Tater-Tot, but in need of another moniker, now) in a couple more weeks, they will seem less bizarre. Leftie won't have any feeling for a year or two, but I can deal with that if I can feel the other side.

Now, [vigorous rubbing together of hands] this is the part where I emerge from the turmoil of the last several months and get my life back. Before The Knee and The Cancer, I used to have interests, a sense of humor, a social life, a marriage. I have come somewhat unmoored from all these little anchors. For now, I can stop thinking of myself as a cancer patient. I can go back to being who I was. Or I could change some things. I have a new torso, for heaven's sake! Doesn't that mean all things are possible? I guess I'll at least have to get a new running bra. Maybe we'll start there.