Sleeveless!!!

Today is a banner day for me! It has been a little over 3 and 1/2 years since my breast cancer surgeries and today is the first day that I felt comfortable wearing a top without sleeves!

This might seem like a trivial matter to you, but believe me, it's the little things they don't tell you about that get to you the most.

I did my homework before my lumpectomy, wide excision and finally, mastectomy. I grieved for the loss of my breast before it happened. I took Polaroids. I did OK. Along with the wide excision, I had a sentinel node biopsy (as part of a clinical trial) and axillary node dissection. My armpit looked worse than my missing breast ever did. Post-surgery I developed cellulitis and ultimately, lymphedema. My underarm was fat, bulging, black and blue and sprouted one, long, disgusting hair in the center of it, that I couldn't reach with the electric razor because my armpit was so cavernous.

The surgeon and nurse practitioner stressed the need for positive attitude after the surgeries; they minimized the SNB and AND as simple side procedures. I was shock to not be able to raise my arm over my head; the jiggly sack under my arm was gross; I felt like they cut out half my armpit. I was doomed to have no sensation in the back of my upper arm and to wear sleeves my entire life.

Just like when you are trying to get pregnant and all you meet on the street are pregnant women, I felt like all I saw in the stores, in ads, on models, were spaghetti clothing - shirts, dresses, you name it, it bared all of your armpit.

For those of you who have not gone through a cancer journey, you probably think I am a vain, weird little woman. I assure you, I am no stranger than anyone else. It's just that you gear yourself up for the "big event" and then these little things crop up and kick you in the gut. I had never gotten really upset over the Victoria's Secret ads or all the women with 36D cups because I was always small-breasted and I liked myself for who I was. But, damn, that fat, ugly armpit nearly put me over the edge.

Eventually, the scars faded, I keep the lymphedema under control (with much thanks to my therapist, Cathy) and I've learned to shave with an electric razor on that side and the loss of sensation is less and my range of mobility is about 80%. I resigned myself to the fact that I would be sporting sleeves in 90 degree weather.

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