I've been thinking about the surgery a lot lately...

I was going through my calendar the other day when it hit me...*Wham!*...like a brick wall. There it was, "Friday Oct. 1st, start taking surgery meds". Then two weeks later, "Friday Oct. 15th, SURGERY DAY!" I stared at it unblinking, unthinking. "Is it already October? Aren't we only a few weeks into September?" Yeah...no. Time flew away but hurled the fact that I'm having a *Double Mastectomy with Reconstruction* right up in my face. Crap. This is really gonna happen. They're really going to take my girls away from me (and who knows how much other tissue). I'm going to go to sleep the morning of Oct. 15th with the breasts I've had since I was, what, 15? And wake up with nothing. *Maybe* an A cup, but for all I know right now I may wake up flat as a pancake. That is going to be so friggin' weird. I'm trying hard not to think about it too much because in the long run there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. It has to happen. I have to go through this process to make sure I never have to go through it again (little baby Jesus willing). I have to accept it and find peace with it, which I partly do, but I mean come on it's a major mother truckin' surgery, who wouldn't have it on their mind!?

To tell the truth I'm not really worried about the surgery. I'm not worried about the healing. It's gonna suck hard, that's for sure, but I'm not worried about it. I'm not even worried about how it's all going to look in the end because I know I'll be in good hands and they'll make sure it looks fine. What I *AM* worried about is seeing myself for the first time after surgery; seeing where my girls used to be and what was left in their place. How I'm going to react, how I'm going to feel, how Tim's going to feel, how he's going to react. *That* is what I'm worried about. That is what's consuming my thoughts.

I wonder what's going to happen...