It's strange how the abstract idea of something can be so simplex compared to the reality of it. Even seeing something instead of just having a concept of it in your head can drastically alter how you feel about it.
I've been considering several surgeries that I believe would improve the quality of my life. One of those, though certainly not the one I considered to the most drastic, would be the removal of my breasts and surrounding breast tissue. There are a lot of reasons why I should do this . . . probably the best one being that both of my grandmothers had breast cancer. To be able to remove the problem before it becomes life threatening is a good idea.
I was curious as to how the process worked and looked it up. Yes, this is where the abstract concept slammed into reality. It's one thing to imagine pristine flat surface with small scars running over it. It's quite another to see the reality of this, to look at something that is very imperfect and broken. I looked at the pictures for a long time and I wanted to cry.
And I don't mean cry for me. Though the reality wasn't what I expected, I know I'll accept it and continue to move forward. However, I'm OPTING for this. It's a decision I'm considering while I still have the freedom and time to do so. For women who have to make this decision when it's life with no breasts or death? I know anyone who goes through this is strong, but it still has to be so devastating. It has to be horrible the first time they look at the pictures I just saw.
I don't think enough can be said about the need for people to receive therapy if they're going to have major surgery. In our modern society, there are few things we do that puts us in such a vulnerable position. Most often in a sedated state, people all around you, looking at the body you probably only let a few other people see, and cutting it open, moving their hands or sharp things or machines around inside you. There is nothing wrong at all with saying that's scary as hell.
Once you're out of the surgery, you have to endure a lot of pain. Your body is now different than it was before. You may have to have assistance in washing or even in going to the bathroom. Your body has been flooded with drugs. Even just one of these things alone would be enough to make it wise to get therapy as you're processing all of this change in your life.
When I was in my twenties and recovering from surgery, I was lost to myself for about a year. Despite the pain and complications that followed what happened, the part that I remember being the most difficult was just not knowing how to function as ME anymore. I know a lot of this has to do with the morphine drip, the Oxi I was given as a pain killer, and the jolting transition of having those in my system and then nothing at all in my system. Beyond the drugs though, there was just the lingering feeling I'd lost part of myself. Physically, I had.
I know that if I'd had some kind of post-op therapy at that time, my recovery would have been less nightmarish. I know that I really needed someone to talk to and didn't have that (in a professional sense. I had friends, but it's not the same). I could have benefited from someone explaining this recovery/grieving process to me. I certainly could have used practical advice.
Whatever decisions get made about surgeries this time around, I'm more confident about it because I am in therapy. I have someone who has been working with me for quite some time and understands the kind of activities and tasks that really help me through things. I'm really grateful I'm going to have that.
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