It’s been 266 weeks since my bilateral mastectomy with immediate reconstruction. That’s roughly 1,865 days or 44,760 hours or 2,685,600 minutes that I spent wondering if I would ever get my life back. If I would every be able to climb something, or push myself up again. If I would ever sleep comfortably or be able to look in the mirror again without cringing. If I would ever be able to shower or swim without constant pain and weakness.
I’m not completely healed from my most recent surgery, yet, but today I can do the following things that I haven’t been able to do in all those increments of time:
- Stretch when I wake up in the morning.
- Touch the doorframe with both hands each time I walk into a room.
- Brush my teeth without a break.
- Wash my hair while standing upright.
- Brush my hair while standing upright.
- Hand someone something just out of reach without repositioning my entire body or getting up.
- Scratch the itch in the middle of my upper back.
- Braid my hair.
- Push myself off of the ground (without assistance) with minimal pain.
- Zip my own dresses all the way up.
In the weeks that follow, I hope that my pain will continue to diminish, but even the level at which it resides currently is so much more manageable than than it once was. I will hope that next week’s list will be 20 instead of 10, but anything better than 9 is something for me to be thankful for.