July 29, 2014 - Introducing "The Imposter Collection"

I’m done being frustrated I think. It’s been a week and the news has settled in. I only cried twice. Once the day of when I told my mom. She tends to bring out my emotions from deep down in my hiding box. Second, when my cousin so thoughtfully asked me if I had set a surgery date. That one shot out of me like a bolt of lightning. It didn’t even ooze up to the surface and out like it did with my mom. Instead, it just flew out of my tear ducts with no warning at all! But no more, I think I am done. I’ve moved to the acceptance phase that there shall indeed be yet another surgery. Surgery #5. It has grown on me. The Imposters are at peace. Well Boob 2.2 is anyway since he doesn’t have to be involved at all in this one. Boob 1…outta luck. (I won’t remind 2.2 that the last time we went in for a singular lipomodeling surgery, both got roped into it before all was said and done.) We are adjusting.

It helps that a few of my friends made a game out of it and spontaneously threw out reasons as to why Surgery #5 landed in my lap. My favorite…Lead Plastic Surgeon subscribes to this blog and likes seeing his name in print over and over again. Other front runners…this surgery gives Ron an opportunity to get his RN degree in 2 years without having to do additional practicum. And last, Hallmark needed more cases to justify a “hope your boob is looking up!” tagline. Feel free to contribute to the game by adding your reason in the comments below (click the word comment at bottom of post on). I’d relish in your humor indeed.

Today is the perfect day to remind me why I need to get this done and to pump me up (no pun intended) for setting that surgery date. Not only is there a risk for further slippage if I don’t fix it, there are also a few wardrobe malfunctions lurking in the closet. This morning I threw on a summer maxi dress that has an empire waist. Well, let’s just say the image in the mirror was all but “put together”. One high, one low. Calamity! I was at risk of causing coworkers to fall in the hallway thinking their vision was distorted. Back to the closet for some adjustment and only 10 minutes late leaving. It’s a hoot if you let your mind get past the scariness of it. Scary, well to me and my vain self. Probably not all that scary to you. Comical (when I’m not tearful) to us both.

This time two years ago I was preparing myself for my last week of work before mastectomy surgery. August 7, 2012 was a date that had me shaking in my boots! I had not even come out in the open to most of you. A handful of people (immediate family, a few select coworkers, and my bible study group = less than 10 total I’d say) were all that knew what was about to go down. I was all the things you would expect me to be. Embarrassed, worried, naïve, unsettled, self-conscious. I knew taking these breasts off was absolutely what I needed to do, but there were a good many emotions straddling my certainty. I remember trying to figure out how in the world my mind was going to make it through the 10 days of “no breasts”. But none off those thoughts prepared me for the reality of where my mind would go. Upside-down. Inside-out. What in the world is going on!?!  I found this picture below from a post in August of that year. Not that you can tell, but I had no boobs in this picture. I was off to my first appointment after mastectomy (10 days later) and I had my jacket zipped up basically to my chin and underneath was a surgical bra stuffed full of white fluff. It was August people and sure over 90 degrees outside with 200% humidity as we seem to specailize in here, but I was not about to let it be known I was walking around boob-less. I recall that day standing in my closet wondering what in the world I was going to put on to make this visit even remotely possible. I was to be walking into a waiting room of women who were in similar fate, but that didn't mean I was ready to make myself known (and I work with these people, most of whom had no idea what was going on). I found this hot pink velore-ish type jacket crammed in the back corner of the closet and then some jeans. I quickly ditched the jeans when I realized there was absolutely no way I was going to be able to pull them up with my immobility from surgery. The jeans morphed into black pajama bottoms that could pass as athletic gear. I changed as best as I could (not doubt a spectacle to observe!) and walked back into the living room where Ron and my mom were waiting. Mom snapped this picture below and even now I recall the beaming face both of them had on talking about how great I looked. “The pink makes you glow!” Boy could I have eaten them up with a spoon. I will never forget that moment. They had not seen me crying in my closet desperately flinging clothes this way and that trying to find something that would mask the underneath. Somehow they knew exactly what I needed to hear.

I didn’t comment that day in the post about what I was feeling. I wasn’t really "there" yet in my blog with being open and honest. Only seven days before (3 days after mastectomy) was my very first post and it was puny and low key. I was just trying to get through a post those days. Transparency came later. Anyway, I say all of this as a testament to where I’ve come.  August was a very long month with me hiding behind chin-high pink velore-ish zipup jackets in 200% humidity to now talking with little reserve (but still respectfully, I hope!) about lopsided boobs. I’ve come a long way! I’m here. I’ve arrived intact with Imposter 1 and Imposter 2.2 in tow.  

I’ve set a date. October 16^th. I've even set a post-op clinic date. Oct 22. Boy, do they offer full boob service! It’s going to be here in no time. But I admit I will think about it every single hour of every day between now and then. Just yesterday I remembered the surgical bra again. Oh bother, I am going to get another one. I should have kept them all for a collection. I’d have 5 you know! Those things have a long way to go in the fashion world. But having 5, couldn’t that be a “collection” that I could name and sell on the black market? “The Imposter Collection”. High dollar, my friend! Open to the highest bidder...which I am sure will be backed by Victoria's Secret.