As it is right now 11 weeks after surgery, I find myself only seeing my plastic surgeon once a month. This feels somewhat like being sprung from the chain gang. The verdict is still out on whether I will elect one more surgery to try for a softer more natural feel with silicone. Dr. Surgeon seems to feel that I should be patient and wait to see how the skin takes to all the changes several months after the initial surgery. This is of course mostly due to the radiation I had eleven years ago. If I had known then what I know now...it's one of those times in life. If I had known I was BRCA positive I would probably not have chosen radiation. But that is why they call it a Monday morning quarterback right? Can't stuff those grains of sand back in the hourglass. So, I wait only seeing Dr. Surgeon once a month for the next several months.
This magically leaves time for LIVING. The last year has been at times more of a stunted stall in regularly scheduled programming of my life. I've obsessed about choices and their consequences. Surgery or surveillance? Now, near the end of the surgery road, I can choose to focus on all things not related to cancer, foobs, and surgical menopause.
I've distracted myself sufficiently the last several weeks with countertops. I know, it's the stuff of great higher thinking reminiscient of Voltaire and Descante.
I'm also pretty darn happy to be working again after sort of falling off the map and into my ipad's library book collection the last few months. I'm 3/4 of the way through Victor Hugo's Les Miserables. It is a tome. I might need a blue ribbon for finishing it, should that day ever come.
With exactly 1 month until the end of school I'm plugging in as many custom orders as possible. Because who am I kidding? The girls will somewhat derail and distract me again until mid August, that is just how it works around here.