This coming Friday I'll be going back to the operating room where I had my double mastectomy. Only this time when I wake up, I will have a new set of boobs! Yes, it is finally time to get these hard, uncomfortable tissue expanders out and replace them with a set of softer, perky but pliable saline implants. It just so happens that this Friday is also Mr. Pincushion's birthday. So his birthday present will be my new "ta-ta's!" Sorry, honey, they won't be double D's. In fact, I'm not sure what size they'll be. It depends upon how much room the surgeon has to work with when he opens me up. Kind of unnerving! I just hope they're nice looking.
I'm a little anxious about this procedure. Complications are fairly common with women who have radiated skin. And some of these complications can develop as much as six months later. I've heard first hand accounts of skin and incisions that didn't heal properly, and infections causing the implants to fail. Ugh.
I know I shouldn't worry about things that might happen; everyone's experience is different! All I can do is hope and pray for the best. If you're so inclined please send a prayer my way on August 3rd!
Monday, July 30, 2012
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
A wonderful week in lovely Maine
I recently returned from 10 days in Maine which is the perfect place to get away from the relentless heat in Austin. I had a wonderful time eating way too much, sailing, and spending time with my family in a spectacular setting that I've been going to since I was a little girl. This summer's visit was particulary special because my little cousin got married. It was the most beautiful and fun wedding that I've ever been to, besides my own of course. The wedding was like something out of "Country Living" magazine, with a divine setting (rustic red barn on a lush field with ocean views), perfect weather, great steel drum band, lots of dancing and professional grade fireworks! My cousin, all grown up, looked absolutely gorgeous in her mermaid shaped lace wedding dress and daisies in her hair. What a fabulous affair! To my Uncle and Aunt - Bravo. One down, two more to go!
 |
| Dusk at the wedding. |
 | |||
| The barn where the wedding party made their entrance from. |
 |
| Mr. Pincushion playing guitar for the ceremony. |
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
A love letter
Tomorrow, Wednesday, June 20th, is my 14th wedding anniversary. Yes, Mr. Pincushion and I have been married a whopping 14 years already (and boyfriend and girlfriend for 7 years prior to marriage)! We've spent almost our entire "adult" life together...amazing really, especially in this day and age. In honor of our anniversary, I am writing this post as a love letter to my hubby. I will try not to make all of you gag, but if you do, I'm sorry. This is a love letter after all.
To Mr. Pincushion, my wonderful husband:
Fourteen years ago, our families and friends gathered together to finally witness our nuptials. I remember that it was a very windy day and my veil was whipping around my head/face and my sister was trying to hold it down. Nanny and Poppy were there to watch their first grandson get married and your father, a wonderful man, was there too. Your parents gave you something to calm your nerves and make you feel better because you were VERY hung over from your bachelor party the night before. Before I knew it, the ceremony was over and the justice of peace announced us "Mr. & Mrs. ____" and that was the beginning of what has been a great marriage so far. We have traveled to many special places together. We have lived on the East coast, the Midwest and now Texas. We have had many laughs along the way but also many sorrows starting with the sudden and devastating loss of your father. Then came the morning I woke up completely paralyzed on the right side of my body. One of the first thoughts that came to my mind on that terrible morning was that I had to remain calm, not for me but for you. I didn't want to get you freaked out, even though inside I was terrified. You were fabulous during my time in the hospital, keeping me company and being supportive during those grueling medical treatments, even though you are squeamish. Then when I had to stay at the in-patient rehab hospital for weeks and weeks, you continued to be my rock, visiting me whenever you could, being my advocate, and helping me with things that no husband should have to ever do. You even snuck our wonderful poochie into the hospital so I could see her because I missed her so. When I came home, you drove me around for six or seven months because I still couldn't, even when you didn't want to. Then when I was finally officially diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, you did not waiver in your love & commitment to me. I know there are many men, who if given the same terrible news about their spouse, would have left out of fear of the unknown and the responsibility of possibly being the caregiver. But not you! Years later when we thought that we had been through the worst, then came my very sudden diagnosis of breast cancer. This time I could not remain calm for you but as I cried hysterically in your arms, you remained brave, hugged me and simply said "we will get through this too." Once again, you took care of me whether I was hugging the toilet or having an emotional breakdown. And in the face of it all, you had the strength and determination to finish writing that dam dissertation, finally becoming "Dr." Pincushion. I am so very, very proud of you! After nearly twenty years of being together, I still love being with you. You continue to make me laugh with your great sense of humor. You are just so darn easy to get a long with (for the most part). And even though you have a lot less hair than you did when I first met you so long ago, I still think you're hot! You had me from the minute we sat across the table winking at each other during a game of "Cops & Robbers." I can't wait to see where we end up living next and what adventures we go through over the next chapter of our lives. As long as we have each other, life will be good!
I love you!
Mrs. Pincushion
To Mr. Pincushion, my wonderful husband:
Fourteen years ago, our families and friends gathered together to finally witness our nuptials. I remember that it was a very windy day and my veil was whipping around my head/face and my sister was trying to hold it down. Nanny and Poppy were there to watch their first grandson get married and your father, a wonderful man, was there too. Your parents gave you something to calm your nerves and make you feel better because you were VERY hung over from your bachelor party the night before. Before I knew it, the ceremony was over and the justice of peace announced us "Mr. & Mrs. ____" and that was the beginning of what has been a great marriage so far. We have traveled to many special places together. We have lived on the East coast, the Midwest and now Texas. We have had many laughs along the way but also many sorrows starting with the sudden and devastating loss of your father. Then came the morning I woke up completely paralyzed on the right side of my body. One of the first thoughts that came to my mind on that terrible morning was that I had to remain calm, not for me but for you. I didn't want to get you freaked out, even though inside I was terrified. You were fabulous during my time in the hospital, keeping me company and being supportive during those grueling medical treatments, even though you are squeamish. Then when I had to stay at the in-patient rehab hospital for weeks and weeks, you continued to be my rock, visiting me whenever you could, being my advocate, and helping me with things that no husband should have to ever do. You even snuck our wonderful poochie into the hospital so I could see her because I missed her so. When I came home, you drove me around for six or seven months because I still couldn't, even when you didn't want to. Then when I was finally officially diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, you did not waiver in your love & commitment to me. I know there are many men, who if given the same terrible news about their spouse, would have left out of fear of the unknown and the responsibility of possibly being the caregiver. But not you! Years later when we thought that we had been through the worst, then came my very sudden diagnosis of breast cancer. This time I could not remain calm for you but as I cried hysterically in your arms, you remained brave, hugged me and simply said "we will get through this too." Once again, you took care of me whether I was hugging the toilet or having an emotional breakdown. And in the face of it all, you had the strength and determination to finish writing that dam dissertation, finally becoming "Dr." Pincushion. I am so very, very proud of you! After nearly twenty years of being together, I still love being with you. You continue to make me laugh with your great sense of humor. You are just so darn easy to get a long with (for the most part). And even though you have a lot less hair than you did when I first met you so long ago, I still think you're hot! You had me from the minute we sat across the table winking at each other during a game of "Cops & Robbers." I can't wait to see where we end up living next and what adventures we go through over the next chapter of our lives. As long as we have each other, life will be good!
I love you!
Mrs. Pincushion
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Retail therapy
Lately, I've been doing a fair amount of shopping and have actually been enjoying myself! Usually, I don't like to go clothes shopping because I rarely find things that I really like and that fit me well. More often than not, I quickly become bored and frustrated if I have to try on more than five items which then usually leads me to give up and leave empty handed. However, I had an extra incentive to do some retail therapy...my cousin's upcoming nuptials in Maine. I wanted to find a couple of cute inexpensive outfits for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. Fortunately, I was successful and am looking forward to showing them off. Plus, I finally bought a new watch as mine fell apart almost a year ago. The most exciting part about my latest shopping experience was that most of my purchases were seriously discounted!
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Off the smoothie wagon
After my cancer diagnosis, I was all gangbusters about green smoothies. When I first started making them, I had convinced myself that I was going to have at least one if not two a day. Unfortunately, like many of my well-intentioned plans, I went from having one a day to one every other day to finally having one a week if I'm lucky. It's not that they're bad tasting. In fact, they're quite yummy tasting. It's just that they're kind of a pain in the butt to make and frankly, I'm just too lazy to do it on a regular basis. Lately, more often than not, the bag of organic spinach just sits wasting away in my refrigerator until it resembles something out of a science project.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)