Showers are a Mixed Bag

How often do I think about the cancer? Every single morning.

I could wake up in the most fantastic mood ever, with a twinkle in my eye and a spring in my step. But the minute I step into the shower the cancer memories all come back. It's hard to overlook the lumps and the scars and strangely, the water falling on my arms that still have no feeling.

Every morning I start out remembering the call from Dr. Kripke and telling the September Moms that 'Yep, it's cancer.' I replay the diagnosis, the agonizing wait for the genetic test results and finally the surgery. I think about the first meeting with the plastic surgeon and how on that day recovery seemed like a million miles away. I also think about laying in the hospital bed for a week longing to wash my hair. I think about my first shower in the hospital and how fantastic the warm water felt against my skin. I think about showering with the drains at home and how when I stepped out of the tub I almost fainted when I got the first look at my whole body in the mirror. I was swollen and bruised and sore and tired and the tubes made me look non-human.

But now every day when I step out of my tub I am reminded that I've come a long way baby!