Recovering nicely from surgery 2+ weeks ago.
My plastic surgeon—and the host of nurses, residents, med students on rotation, physician’s assistants, rando hospital people, your mom who seem to be in every appointment I’ve had this year—declared the outcome a success and said that if he didn’t know better, he’d need to check my chart to accurately determine which breast was a rebuild and which was augmented. This means my boobs really, really match. (TMI? Too bad!)
Vascillating between wanting to hibernate and wanting to get out and get on with my life. Survived the holidays and a little bit of travel and seeing friends who were in town. Even went to a late night (for us) rock show.
But hibernation is winning….have you seen the forecast? And I’m still kind of sore and tired. And sweaty.
In a few days I have an appointment to start on my survivorship care plan. Nor really sure what that all entails. Typing those words is surreal. I think it means I can refer to this whole experience in the past tense.