Life’s not Hard

My body is so weird. All bodies are weird, really, but mine is experiencing things more weird than normal.

I can’t even imagine that… a normal body.

I wish I could go back to myself as a very young child and say, “Bekah, dear… be nice to your body. You play very rough and many people will see that (which is okay) even when you are 27. You will make marks that won’t go away. And yes, you will go through a VERY awkward phase at 10-11 years old. You will know that you aren’t pretty, but you won’t really care. Not really. You’ll care more about being tough and that will cause more scars. (But you will be pretty. Very Pretty). At 12, you will be a very pretty bald girl. Somehow, being bald will cure that awkward phase you are going through. Cancer will give you a new self- assurance. You will have doctors…. So many doctors. And you will be even more scarred. You won’t think about it as a bad thing until you are 22. You will be struggling with depression and all you will see how you and other people have hurt your body. You will spend a year in complete drug and alcohol oblivion, and you will add to those marks, but you will be okay. You won’t get over your scars and marks, but you will accept them, again. When you are 26 you will stop fighting with life. You will accept Gods will easily and find humor in the fucked up situations you encounter. You will find real, true love with an unlikely suspect and people will condemn your love. You won’t care. You will turn 27 and you will be diagnosed with cancer, again, and he will be the brightest part of your day. You will joke about who has the most scars; who is the most damaged, but after your mastectomy, the answer will be quite clear. What I’m telling you, teacup Bekah, is to be kind to your body, because no one else will. Your battle wounds are epic, even though you are small.”

That may seem like a pointless bit to tell a 6 year old. But I think it says quite a lot. I wish someone had explained to me that I would lose so much of my body (literally and NOT literally) in life. And really, I’d probably curse more. I do tend to curse like a sailor…

I don’t think I would have stopped being so rough, as a little girl. But I think I would have been more conscious of my roughness and of my body.

So, my body, like all bodies, is weird.

There are new things, though. New things, since my mastectomy…

You know when you drink something cold and can feel it alllll the way down?

I can feel it in the left part of my back/underarm and sometimes; if I’m lucky, I can feel it in my left arm. My skin is numb and the muscles are SO sore but I can feel it turn cold from the inside, almost. It is my favorite part of drinking cold water, right now.

As far as recovery goes, I’m taking a little more time than I expected. I can start using my arm Saturday. So, maybe in a week I’ll be able to see progress and strength and I can dress and bathe myself. I assume once I can bathe and dress myself and get down the stairs to my car, I can go back to work. Goals!

and now, a quote:

“Children show scars like medals. Lovers use them as a secrets to reveal.

A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh.”
Leonard Cohen, The Favorite Game

Dork-tastic

Me with my poster from Audrey and Ella. I love the drawing of Albus in the top corner more and more.

Recovery photos, most recent to older:

dressing removed

Notice the little baby bump on my chest. I am calling it my ‘firefly’. Its so silly!

Day of Surgery

JP drain tube, day of surgery

Day of surgery, Dressing

Dressing, day of surgery. I hate oxygen tubes.

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