In two days time it will be one year since my initial mastectomy/reconstruction surgery. What a year. And the adventure continues. A visit to the plastic surgeon is on the calendar in a few days to check the new nips and give me (hopefully) the go-ahead to schedule tattooing. Not everyone chooses nipple reconstruction or the tattoos that make the nips look flesh colored. I cannot say I am looking forward to the needle treatment but being really, truly all done will be marvelous.
In the mean time, it is tax season and around here that coincides with retirement planning. It is very nice to worry more about 401k stuff than boobs.
Forget about that stupid Mayan calendar end of the world nonsense. The year 2012 will go down in my family history as the one where we all took turns having surgery. This time it is Mom who has to go under the knife.
At our annual Labor Day gathering this year we asked Mom how she would like to celebrate her upcoming 80th birthday. In typical Mom fashion she wanted no fuss, nothing special. Looks like she will be spending it at home recovering from heart surgery.
Mom and me. Sister Anne nearby. August 1963.
I’m packing for the red eye that will take me to the East Coast tonight, happy that I can spend a few days with her, sad that she has to have doctors muck around with her ticker. Mom is one tough cookie and I am certain she will come through this with flying colors.
2009. Mom on the farm.