This time last year I was being strapped to an operating table without anesthetic for my biopsy. I could hear, feel (a lot more than I wanted), and smell the surgeon taking the lump out of my breast. I could feel Rachel (although I didn't know she was a she yet) swimming around in my tensed abdomen. I can still remember the disbelieving expression on the surgeon's face as he told me, mom & Andrew that the lump he removed was cancerous.
It probably doesn't make sense to everyone why I'm making such a big deal out of this. I mean, another month or two really isn't supposed to matter that much. However, I've got some bad feelings. I'm haunted by the fear that my body is going to betray me again & I'll have cancer (ovarian this time) if I don't hurry up and remove the appropriate tissue. I'm also worried that I'm going to lose my nerve to have this surgery. There's also the increased risk of becoming pregnant (and most likely miscarrying) during this dangerous time. I'm going to mourn the loss of my fertility, but there are definitely benefits to that loss - some of which only another woman with problems like mine can fully appreciate. Not to mention I was really looking forward to having my real foobs as opposed to these uncomfortable & ugly expanders. All in all, this surgery was about actually *improving* my life as much as it was about preventing cancer. Its also difficult for me with my obsessive-compulsions to get over the fact that my tidy schedule has been irrevocably ruined. I want to see the end of this cancer monster that has not left my mind since this day a year ago. I want to know I've done everything in my power to eliminate this monster from my life once & for all.
I was hoping that by this time this year I'd have all this behind me. I was working really hard to attain that goal. Sadly it didn't work. I'm still just as unsure about the future as I was then. I'm still as nervous, scared, and worked-up as I was last year. The biggest difference is that now I have a 7 month old Rachel instead of a 20 week embryonic Rachel. I just want to be finished with this scourge called cancer. I want my life to go back to normal. I just want to be normal.