“May I see my family?” I asked as I fumbled to adjust my glasses.
“Not yet. Let’s fix you up a little bit more before they come in.” The nurse said as she pumped Valium into my veins.
The bandages would stay in place for six days. No showers allowed and no deodorant, I was going to stink. My chest was wrapped up tight like a secret present not meant to be opened until it was time. I had no idea what the gift would look like. I would obey my doctor’s orders and not peek. She explained that there were twelve inches of drainage tubes inserted where my breasts use to be. She told me not to be scared as the blood and tissue would ooze from my chest and make its way to the bulbs that looked like hand grenades. I felt like someone had whacked me across the rib cage with a 2×4 but I didn’t cry nor did I throw a pity party. I knew I’d made a decision that would give me more time on this earth. My right breast had seven areas of cancer but the left had none. I requested a double mastectomy for the love my family and friends and the desire to share my journey with others.
Day six eventually came around and I got to see the new me. That’s another story for another day.