This…
Finally feeling up for re-engaging the exercise routine. The endless spate of surgeries has meant I wasn’t able to use the pool all summer long, and a significant part of the fat-reduction plan has to do with daily, vigorous swimming. The result, of course, is that despite my best efforts to starve myself, the fat is slowly crawling back.
Actually, in moments of particular distress and depression, I’m afraid “starve” was not the operative word: have recourse to comfort foods was more like it. My concept of “comfort food” entails large portions of pasta followed by large portions of ice cream. Or maybe even just a whole meal of ice cream with some fine sauce dumped over it.
{sigh}
Anyway, for awhile there I was as much as six pounds over the desired weight. Now we’re back down to three. So it shouldn’t take much longer to get back down to what I crave to regard as the New Normal.
That…
Speaking of the which, last night Ruby and Cassie BOTH trotted two miles with me, without dragging, sitting down in the middle of the road, begging to be picked up, or otherwise impeding traffic.
The weather is finally cooling down enough that Cassie, whose hair is about three times thicker than Ruby’s, can go more than half a mile without threatening to expire of heat exhaustion. Last night’s low, ô mirabilis! was 46.7 degrees. It was in the 50s when we sallied forth after dark. And I’ll tellya, those were two mighty happy dogs!
Happy human, too.
In the morning, I took them for a mile-long walk, then returned them to the house and went out for a second mile undoglested. So for moi, that amounted to four full miles over the course of the day!
And that’s my target: since I can’t swim or do a lot of yoga, I’m trying for four miles a day. If that doesn’t get the fat off, nothin’ will!
The ’Tother…
Yesterday the Mayo called to set up an appointment with a new radiologist. I’d already seen one, but WonderSurgeon wanted me to see whoever was in the “conference” in which she planned to discuss my “unusual” case. Other than scheduling an appointment with me at the standard three-weeks-later surgical check-up, she has had nothing to say. So I have no idea whether the consensus (if any) was to lob off her Work of Art or that it’s worth trying to save the newly and amazingly rebuilt boob. It may be that she just can’t bring herself to tell me they think it should go. Or it may be that she wants me to hear what this new radiologist thinks are the prospects for therapy. We shall see.
The more I think about it, though, the more I feel it’s six of one, half-a-dozen of the other…and that really, mastectomy may be the smartest course of action.
If that’s what the docs recommend, I’m going to ask if they’ll give me a two-for-one… Since the entity that seems to have invaded half the right boob has been mammogram-invisible for years, it’s reasonable to suspect a similar one infests the left boob. If they can make a convincing argument for that, we should be able to persuade Medicare to cover it.
But even if we can’t, if they could keep the out-of-pocket cost under ten grand, I would just pay to have the left one lobbed off, too. That would obviate a whole slew of problems, mean I’d never have to see another mammogram machine for the rest of my life(!!!!), and make me even on both sides. The cash is there to buy a car; since I’ve already decided that a new car is off the table, I could use the automobile savings to cover the cost of lopping off the second boob.
So, there we are.
Meanwhile, one of my three fave clients resurfaced this morning with another book, bless his heart! Dearly love the man. He’s a very good writer, a very interesting human being, and he pays without wincing. 😀
Congratulations on you resuming your exercise regimen.
It seems such a waste to lob off the boobs after 3 surgeries to save them/it.
I have no idea of how I would feel in the same circumstance, and I tend to think that people should do what feels right to them.
I am inclined to think I am more invested in my boobs then others, which would no doubt factor into any decisions – for good or ill LOL.
What ever you decide I wish you the best [with a very healthy amount of wishing you never again hear – weellll, we aren’t sure we got enough!].
Also glad one of your favorite clients is still on a roll and utilizing your services.
Apparently, you’re not more invested than normal. The docs have talked about women patients who have become suicidal after unreconstructed mastectomies. Our culture is SO obsessive about the external markers of (youthful!) sexuality that it’s reasonable to expect women would become depressed at losing one of those markers. Really, a sane woman would indeed have her sense of well-being wrapped up in her boobs.
Judging from the way ALL these docs are acting, all the way across the board, their experience is that most women would rather keep their boobs, even if the risk entails stroke, heart attack, deep-vein blood clots, leukemia, and another type of blood disorder that can, in some cases, kill you within 6 months. That’s how powerful societal pressure is!
I really hope I would do the smarter thing, at my age, if the need arose.
I have had a few friends who have had to make a similar decision to yours, one, I know, opted to remove one or both breasts. But gee, I’ve had boobs since I was 9 – I’d miss these big, saggy things. I think my husband would be more comfortable with their removal than I would LOL.
I do want to let you know, that the info you have given has opened my eyes to a lot of issues that I would now take into consideration if I run into this situation – so thank you very much for all your research and internal debate and sheer, unadulterated grit!
Well, they’re very bit as much a part of your body as your nose your your ears or your fingers or your toes. None of us wants any of those amputated, either!
It’s a kind of an assault. But then…so is invasive cancer.
I’m just a few short years behind you, Funny, and have (ahem) pretty small breasts and I would STILL be hesitant to say, “Take ’em off!” We are taught to define ourselves by our breasts from day one. My four year old granddaughter threw a fit in Wal Mart a few months ago because her parents would not buy her a training bra, and she’s only four years into the brain washing.
Can certainly relate to depression eating. When I’m down, if I can get my hands on some sweets, I’ll eat until I’m queasy. Then, after a few hours and the queasiness passes, I’ll start eating more of the same sweets. It’s a stamina thing. 😀
heh heh heh! Yes, stamina. And chocolate. It’s a chocolate thing. I believe chocolate has magical sedative effects yet to be documented by scientists.
The thing about the boobs is…well, we’re NOT defined by our breasts, and if we take a hard look at that current of emotive thinking in our culture, we can get a grip on ourselves and come to recognize that WE ARE NOT OUR BOOBS!!!!
And as a practical matter, once you’re past 45 or 50, you understand, most men — indeed, most people — barely see you. When they do see you, they’re no longer looking at your chest.
Furthermore, unless you’re wearing something skin-tight (not appropriate for old bags like us, anyway), people hardly notice whether you’re boobed or not.
One of my dear friends had a double mastectomy and chose to go flat. This was a VERY sharp dresser: she had been married to not one but two men who could afford to send her to New York and Paris to buy her clothes straight off the runway. In her reduced circumstances (after the second one died, she married a man of normal means), she still bought good clothing — Eileen Fisher and that kind of thing, but in the almost-affordable range — and she always looked wonderful.
She did not wear prosthetics. She simply wore well-made, handsome clothing that made her look well made and handsome. No one would have thought twice about it unless she mentioned that she’d had cancer surgery. If the subject never came up, it wasn’t even noticeable.
She was not her boobs.
Very good point! And I would like to brag that my husband can afford to send me to Penney’s any time I would like to go. 😀 😀 😀
LOL! Look for the Eileen Fisher knockoffs.
Considering what prostheses cost, you might as well go flat and wear Eileen. Probably would be a wash, dollar-wise…
Okay, now I want to know where Eileen Fisher is sold so I can check it out. ???????
Eileen Fisher is sold in most upscale department stores. Look in Saks, Nordstrom’s, Dillard’s, and even Macy’s. They also have their own boutiques, and of course they have an online presence of sorts. Most styles run true to size, so you prob’ly can safely order online.
If you shop in second-hand stores, look for upscale consignment stores. In the Phoenix area, the pre-eminent one is My Sister’s Closet; if you live in a large city, there’s probably something comparable in your part of the country. And follow Frugal Scholar, who is a true master of mining second-hand stores for upscale products.