As I sit here looking over what I have written and wondering how many people are thinking, she needs mental health care or, I know just where she is coming from ... I realize that I have totally ignored talking about the surgery.

Interesting point as this is one part of my process that I remember very little about.

Unfortunately during my lifetime, I have had my share of surgeries so the anesthesia and surgery itself was not an issue. I knew what would be coming next.

The cold bed in the surgical suite, the clean crisp air, the cold blood pressure cuff being put on your arm, the gel pads that are attached to your chest to monitor you during surgery and the sticky pad applied to your thigh and the bright lights and the subdued chatter as they prepare the room for you.

I was a surgical nurse for part of my nursing career and nothing is unfamiliar except those faces behind the masks.

I know no one here and occasionally someone peaks over to look down on me on the bed and give me some words of encouragement.

I have seen my surgeon and those that will be assisting. This man reassures me and holds my hand and says WE WILL GET THROUGH THIS.

I needed to hear those words.

He is so comforting and his presence helps to bring my heart out of my throat and back into my chest.

Oh yes, the chest, hmmm. Have I stopped to think how different this will look and what the outcome will mean.

No, I really haven’t, it is an accessory part for me, part of me but not essential. It is like the radio in the car, nice to have but... well I don’t really need it or at least not like I did when I was raising kids and breast feeding and well, you know, the younger years when it is so very vital.

I was never overly endowed, not like my mother was, so it was never a big issue. Yes, I said big issue!

Even so, I will still have one and what ever is left of the “damaged” one that they will be working on today.

I was prepared to loose it all if it meant I would continue living.

Amazing how you look at things so differently from the sidelines than if you are in the game!

I never thought of enhancements despite the fact it might have been worthwhile.

My visions of being eighty with perky breasts just left me in a pile of laughter so I just never went there.

So slowly with the medication drip, I am slipping into oblivion and the mask delivering oxygen at this point is lowered onto my face.

They always tell you to count but, the process is gone as the drugs descend.

I awake to being asked to move to the next bed and then next thing my husband is at my side and my best friend. I know there were steps in the middle I missed but I am back with my loved ones and I hear the doctor rattling the news but nothing registers.

I slowly lift my arm, hmmm, doesn’t hurt too badly at this point.

Aren’t drugs great!

I feel with my good arm and just feel bandages, nothing too different in size but the bandaging is deceiving.

Lymph nodes clear, I hear that… I hear that, YAHOO we are heading for the home stretch.

Oops, fading out.

When I reawake, I am aware that the smiles are genuine and not guarded, I am ok. I will be ok and my nurse friend is there to give me the added TLC and nursing care I need.

I have brought pillows and a bucket, just in case the ride home warrants it.

We are headed home and I am relieved.

Tomorrow will bring a new day and a new set of circumstances and future possibilities till I get the next game plan.