Losing Parts

When I was young I always thought of myself as living long and healthy. I lived that life style - no smoking, the right foods, minimal drinking, social interactions, exercise, etc. Somewhere in the back of my mind I believed that I would return to the earth someday as a total entity who had always been "me". Perhaps my body could be donated to science, or my organs for transplants.

Suddenly, in my seventies, I began to lose parts. I remember when I lost my appendix I thought, "Oh, my body is no longer complete. How strange". Then, a year later I said bye-bye to my gall bladder. "It is odd but two parts are missing from me. Now, who is 'me'?  I know inside my head I am still the 'me' that I have been acquainted with for the past seventy some years."

A few years passed and I rarely, if ever, thought of those two missing parts. Life was full of living. I had writing to do, presentations to present, llamas to train, a husband to enjoy, friends to visit, family to appreciate, and then, one night in July of 2007, a fire to escape and a life to reclaim.

After the fire, life returned slowly to "normal" with things to do. Then, very abruptly in May of 2011, the doctors discovered, (how should I say that dreaded C word?),  but yes, it was cancer! A few weeks later I was taking my shower before I left for the hospital for surgery. I looked down at my left breast and said, "Goodbye, breast. I am going to miss you. I guess we have had a good run." A few days after that surgery the surgeon came in with the "good news/bad news bit"; left breast fine, cancer found in the right breast; so another surgery, and then home to my patient husband who tended to all of my needs.

I did have to return to the hospital a month later to have an infection taken care of with yet another surgery. All in all, I was wiped out. When my daughter had called to say she was coming to take care of me while I was in the hospital the first time, I tried to talk her out of it. After all, I had two other body parts removed and did very well, thank you. But this time was different, and my daughter knew it would be, and was there for me through the two entire surgery ordeal.

Recovery has been slower than I thought it would be, and my patience has been stretched at times, but things are getting better, slowly and surely. I am learning to pace myself, or my body complains, sometimes quite strongly. And here I am, six months later, with four of my parts missing from this body. So, who am I without some parts? I feel inside as I always have - the me, with my hopes, fears, worries and cares. I had considered reconstruction when I thought I was going to lose one side. I didn't care to be lopsided. But, with both sides gone the decision was simple. I can stay flat. I did get fitted for prosthesis to make myself feel better when I thought I needed to look more like the old me. But, little by little, I faced the world as the latest me - flat. It is simpler, easier and quicker to get ready for the day, including water aerobics. Once in a while I put on the falsies for special occasions, but most of the time I am flat, and proud, and me.