November 25, 2018 - Cheese, anyone?


For those of you who started following me in 2012 because of double mastectomy content, you are wondering what in the world has happened. Well life happened, as life should. There is life after double mastectomy. Life is just as full and abundant, though marginally tweaked after prophylactic mastectomy as it was before. Houses still get sold, jobs still transition, travels still get taken, and what you thought was your most defining moment may still be, or it may have been replaced with something other. There is so much content that could be written about prophylactic mastectomy. I spent 6 years writing. Mainly because I spent 6 years in the ins and outs of its’ tightly wound snare. My last procedure was 2 years ago, October, when I had a “lump” removed, a lump which turned out to be a folded up piece of reconstruction sling, a lump which I now rather think of as a pebble since I know what it is and because it returned about 6 months ago. It’s been 2 years since I have seen my plastic surgeon (referred to as “Lead Plastic Surgeon (LPS)” for anonymity). Well, 2 years ago until today when he bear hugged me in the GROCERY STORE…..

Now, let’s get something straight. LPS and I have a unique surgical relationship. We work in the same institution and on occasion I run into LPS in the hallway or at the elevator, but we have always made it a point to feign ignorance given we are often with other people and it is not kind to call out “Hey, Sally, It's me, your boob surgeon” while Sally is in her work setting, or any setting for that matter. But it has been 2 years since a chance encounter given LPS relocated to another institution. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. High five in celebration now that I no longer needed his services and most certainly not his chance encounters! But aside from that, most women who have undergone prophylactic mastectomy and reconstruction have met with their surgeon a total of 3 or 4 times. Once before the surgery for consultation, the day of the procedure, and maybe 1 or 2 times again at follow-up appointments depending on the extent of their surgery. But I on the other hand, I would wager I have met with LPS upwards of 40 times (and that could easily be an underestimation) given we have had 7 surgeries together in a 6 year time span. He’s seen me through a good bit and suffered through a good bit as well. When we first met, he was your typical stereotypical standoffish surgeon. I will never forget our first encounter where I very quickly realized I was going to have pray and offer some “behavior modification” for his bedside manner. I quickly got to work as I have always had the thought process that if someone is going to be cutting on you, you want them to think of you as their best friend. So off I went to make that happen. Ron used to laugh at our interactions (or maybe cry in embarrassment on occasion), but when 1 surgery turns to 7, you find you have plenty of time to grow on each other. I can only imagine what countless ridiculous things he has heard me utter under anesthesia. I know there were multiple scary times for me that he was there seeing me through it. I recall one moment in the operating room when they were having a difficult time putting me under, and I was getting a little anxious. LPS reached out and grabbed my hand to calm my nerves. I could never have seen that happen with that first encounter. But this was now our surgeon. This is also the same surgeon who in the middle of a lumpectomy procedure to figure out what a new “lump” was in my breast, LPS, Ron and I kept bantering back plausible options (tracking device, junior mint, leftover popcorn from the previous surgery, etc) to pass the time. It’s all to say we’ve had plenty of time to bond and bond we have. But in the countless times I have seen LPS in the work setting at the elevator (collateral damage of working at the same place where you surgery), or in the countless surgical and office visits, I have never once run into him or anyone else for that matter in my home space. But there I was picking out the shredded cheese for the taco dinner and wham! A surprise approach hug from the peripheral side and LPS is staring at me 6 inches from my face with me fumbling cheese into my cart all while Ron is laughing, as I am sure he is trying to figure out just how wide my eyes can get. 

After I gathered my wits about me (ok, I never gathered my wits about me as you will see), I first had to know the following and it was the first thing I recall coming out of my mouth: “What in the world are you doing here? Do you live close by?” because if he did, I certainly had to move. Now delighted as I was to see him, I certainly didn’t want these chance encounters, me unprepared, to keep occurring. It was vital that I quickly calculated statistical analysis to see what was in my favor and what was not.

You need to understand this. There is something strange about running into people from your traumatic moments in “off” places at “off” times. I am certainly prepared to possibly see these people at the office water fountain or in the hallways reading over a patient chart. I prepare myself for these moments. I know to be on the lookout and to avert my glance when the target is encountered. These are moments you prep yourself for from the moment the boob is inserted. But I had gone a full 2 years with coast clear only to find him, the one person who has seen more of you than you want someone to see on so many occasions, in the dairy section of MY grocery store! Now as my family member said “I am sure he was so glad to see you”….he definitely was. He and Ron had a terrific time catching up (he knows us so well that he knows Ron as well as he knows me), but I was amazed at just how off guard this encounter caught me. After the 10 minutes of standing amongst all the dairy catching up, I realized just how much I was rambling about the most ridiculous of things. At one point, he reached into his wallet and pulled out his business card, at which point I gasped and said something like “what in the world do you think you are doing!” He laughed, as did Ron. But I did NOT want that business card and said there is no way you are ever seeing me again (did he not know 7 surgeries was 6 too many?).  More rambling about Sally cutting trees, and holiday plans, and his kids now grown up, and the now returned “pebble” he once removed and a lot more of Sally rambling about who knows what then tackle hugs again and a goodbye. And then, I stood there looking at Ron as if we had just entered outer space.

Ron and I somehow managed to finish out our grocery list with me rushing him along worried what other surgeon (I had 2 other viable options who I also on occasion run into at the office; though LPS had the longest track record with 7 surgeries compared to 1 and 2 for the others) I was going to run into in the time we had left in the freezer section. Then, I spent the entire car ride home wondering what in the world just happened. I was supposed to go to the OTHER grocery store. We had debated what TIME to go to the grocery store. Ron and I had divided up the grocery list and Ron went for napkins while I went for CHEESE. LPS doesn’t even LIVE anywhere near this grocery store. What in the world was I muttering the entire time we were talking?! Two years now feels like 2 weeks, and when is my next appointment with him?

WHAT IS GOING ON?!

In a spit of a moment everything can come flying back at you while you are picking out the best deal on shredded cheese. And because you know that everything had to line up for you to be at that grocery store, at that very moment, standing in that very spot for a person from your very significant past who has no business being in that very spot at that given time to be there too….well, you learn to trust God and his timing and his purpose. I have no idea why we were to run into LPS this week. I have no idea why I slipped back into a temporary traumatic state (trust me I did and was there for the rest of the day). I have no idea why things unfolded like they did. I have no idea why the one surgeon on the planet that everyone told me to avoid, became the best surgical thing that could happen for me in the end and was someone Ron and I now bear hug in a grocery store. But I do know this, I trust that God is purposing all of that, including this random cheese visit where I somehow made it home with FIVE packs of cheese, for a very specific reason.

Mastectomy is something I very I rarely think about it these days. But in a single second of a tackle hug over some shredded cheese I was right back in a moment. I don’t have to understand it, but I do have to trust it. God very purposely aligned my grocery list to have cheese #12 on the list and Napkins #11. I was not supposed to be at that grocery store at that time.  It most certainly didn’t happen by happenstance. I don’t know why we were supposed to meet, but I do know it dug some stuff up for a day, and I also know it was a great to see him. But maybe it had nothing to do with me at all. Maybe LPS needed to see us.

But this is what I want you to take away:

1) Trust God in his timing when the strange happens. There is purpose in it so let it unfold and see where it goes. You may not understanding it immediately or ever for that matter. You also need to understand it may have absolutely nothing to do with you.

2) Traumatic moments can resurface with no notice at all. Don’t let it surprise you and just process it as it comes. If you are a woman of mastectomy, even many years later something may occur that brings it all back. Just let the thoughts flow as they flow. It can be therapeutic. And eat the cheese you just bought to help with that. Wink.  

3) If the plastic surgeon tries to hand you their business card…..simply walk away.

While we are talking about God’s strange timing, a few weeks ago I walked into a training class of 70 strangers and sat down at a table of 6. The young lady directly across the table, who I would be partnered with for the next 3 hours, looks up at me and says, I know you from somewhere…..probably one of the most embarrassing moments of my post radiation life just found herself sitting at the table across from me. Trust me you will want to hear this story.

And last week, while paying for an item at the boutique, another young lady says I think I know you from somewhere. She did, but not in the way she thought, she knew the story of my brother.

You want to hear these related stories. Trust His timing. He has you exactly where he wants you when he wants you there. Carry your story with you and you just may be surprised everywhere it will go.

Cheese, anyone?





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