Brutal honesty

Waiting patiently

Today I'm going to ask my readers to allow me the privilege of being brutally honest with them. (You don't really have a choice though because, after all...it is my blog and if I can say whatever I want to say here :) but you don't have to read this post unless you really want to know how I'm feeling.)

My day started out pleasantly. I woke up at 6:00 a.m. (which is fairly late for me) thanks to Restoril, a prescribed sleeping aid given to me last week by my oncologist. I had decided not to take it earlier in the week because it can be addictive, but after a few more sleepless nights, I decided to try it. One good night's sleep gave me the energy and the stamina to make it through the day, so I decided last night to take it again. I'm thankful I did because today was emotionally rough for me.

After waking and getting ready to go to my doctor's appointment, I went into the kitchen to see if my daughter, Laura, was awake. She had come take me to my doctor's appointment since I hadn't been given the "all clear" to drive yet. She was just stirring and about to hop in the shower. Breakfast was grab and go, then we headed out.

On the way to the doctor's office, it seemed every semi-truck in this area pulled out in front of us. The stress of possibly being late to my appointment began to build. Laura maneuvered in and out of traffic and managed to get us to the medical building with five minutes to spare. We went in and within a few minutes, the nurse was calling me back.

I donned a lovely white seersucker robe and hopped up onto the examining table. Laura and my granddaughter, Heather, sat patiently in the chairs along the wall in the room. My appointment was at 9. By 9:30, Heather began to get antsy...typical for an 11 1/2 month old. By 10, I told Laura to go ahead and take the baby down to the car so she could feed her. I think she was thankful to get out of the exam room and I surely didn't blame her.

Finally the doctor came into my room. She apologized profusely for my having had to wait so long. She began to exam me and asked if I was having any problems. I explained to her about the extreme swelling in front of and under my armpits. She felt the areas and said she wanted me to go see a Lymphedema specialist. She also said if the area in the center of my chest didn't look better by the next time I came, she would need to do surgery to correct it. After the examination, she said it was time for me to get my prosthesis and custom tailored bras. As I left, she said she'd see me again near the end of December.

About to try on bras

Next stop was Renewal, a store specializing in post mastectomy products, wigs, hats & turbans. Laura and the baby waited in the car while I went in to be fitted. The salesclerk verified my insurance information and told me I would be allowed 4 bras a year and 2 pair of prostheses, but of course, I'd have to pay my 20% of the cost. She led me into a dressing room and asked me to remove my blouse. Then she took a paper measuring tape and measured my chest. I was embarrassed to have her see me without my shirt on, but I knew it had to be done. After determining the correct size for my new bras, the salesclerk left the room to select some different types of bras for me to try on.When she came back into the room, she had a stack of boxes so high that I could barely see her face as she walked in with them. "Let's try all of these and find the ones you like best," she said. "Yes, lets!" I screamed silently and facetiously in my mind.

The first stack

The salesclerk was an older woman, probably around late 60's to early 70's. She was a tad gruff and impatient, but I chalked that up to having to do this numerous times during the day. I tried on 3 different bras and they all felt extremely uncomfortable as they rubbed against my incisions. I asked her for ones with a looser band and she went off to find more for me to try. While she was looking, I managed to snap a few photos (you'll see those in this post) because I am trying to document every part of this journey. Soon she was back with another large stack of bras and I was trying on more and more until I finally found some comfortable ones.

Next came the prostheses. She brought in these darling little "hat boxes" in a light pink color. Each one had a little handle and a clasp in front that reminded me of the old train cases young women carried when I was growing up. When she opened the first box and removed the prosthesis, I couldn't help but just stare at it. It was a soft, molded, silicone, breast shape in a neutral color. "Let's slip a pair of these in your bra and see how they feel," she said. When she put them in, I felt really strange. It was as if my body "remembered" that it was supposed to have breasts. My shoulders immediately went back and I stood more erect. I looked in the mirror at the bra with the prostheses in place. It looked okay but the salesclerk said the prostheses she'd given me were too small. She quickly left to get a larger size. I was afraid the larger ones would weigh too much and be difficult to wear daily. The salesclerk returned and said, "do you want to be bigger or smaller chested?" I hadn't really thought about being able to choose what size I wanted to be....I told her I didn't know but I wanted those things to be as light as possible. She had me try on size C down to size A cup prostheses. I chose the A's. Soon we were through and we left the dressing room for the register. At the register, she tallied up my total and deducted the insurance company's payment. I was dumbfounded when she told me what my percentage would be...those fake boobs cost a fortune!

Laura drove me back home and after lunch, she and Heather left. I began doing some housework and in the middle of hanging up laundry in my walk in closet, I had a huge meltdown. I began to cry uncontrollably. I was angry! I cried out to God and told Him how much I hated Cancer. I told Him I hated the way it made me feel...I hated feeling embarrassed in front of total strangers, I hated having to go see a Lymphedema specialist, I hated the fluid building up in my arms, I hated not being able to do the things I wanted to do, I hated the way I looked, I hated having to wear fake boobs, I hated....I hated....I hated.

After my torrential downpour of tears, I walked into my office and sat down at my computer to write this blog post. I felt numb but also felt a little lighter after having released all of my hate. Was it wrong for me to feel hatred? I don't think so. I've been through an awful lot lately. Did God understand my anger? Yes, I know He did because He knows my heart. The Bible says we are to "be angry and sin not." Had I sinned in my anger? No. I had just expressed my true feelings to God and cried over them. God knew my heart was filled with emotion. He allowed me to cry tears that would allow the pain to overflow my spirit and provide sweet release.

Just a few minutes ago, I listened to a song Laura had been playing on the radio as we'd come back from the doctor's office. (She'd told me in the car that she was playing that song especially for me but at that moment in time, I couldn't absorb the words because I was too distraught. She didn't realize it but I'd kept my head turned toward the window most of the trip home because I didn't want her to see me crying.) The words to "Carry Me" by Audry Assad described what I was feeling to a tee. I realized that what I was trying to do was to just make sense of all the suffering I'd been through recently. I was trying to process it through the grid of my weakness instead of allowing God, in His perfect strength, to just carry me through the pain.  He knew I was tired and weak. He knew I was embarrassed and afraid. He knew. He knew.

As I released all of my tears and fears to Him, He replaced them with His perfect peace. Honestly, I'm so at peace now that I'm going to take a nap. I think my mind just needs a little rest. Cancer is very challenging and tiring. Thank you for letting me be brutally honest today about my feelings and while I know feelings are not reality...they are my feelings and God accepts and understands them. I am so thankful that He loves me even when I'm angry at circumstances I can't control...but that just reminds me even more of the fact that I never really was in control anyway.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved


Listen to Carry Me by Audry Assad

Lyrics to her song:

"Carry Me"
Pain is a forest we all get lost in
Between the branches hope can be so hard to see
And in the darkness we've all got questions
We're all just trying to make sense out of suffering but

You say I am blessed because of this
So, I choose to believe
As I carry this cross, You'll carry me
Help me believe it

Fear is a current we all get caught in
And in its motion faith can be so hard to find
And we all falter 'cause we're all broken
We're all just trying to turn the shadows into light but

You get glory in the midst of this
And You're walking with me
And you say I am blessed because of this
So, I choose to believe
As I carry this cross, You'll carry me

And I know Your promises are faithful
And God, I've seen Your goodness in my life
And oh, I've found Your mercy is a river
Your love is an ocean wide

You say I am blessed because of this
You get glory in the midst of this
And You're walking with me

And You say I am blessed because of this
So, I choose to believe
As I carry this cross, as I carry this cross
'Cause as I carry this cross, You'll carry me

You'll carry me, God
You'll carry me
And Your love is an ocean wide