If I'm nothing else here, I'm honest about what's going on in my life. I want to know a year from now that I got through this and how I did it. So I'm saring the darker side of me, recording it all here. I'm hopeful that I can come back to this and see how far I've come.
My plastic surgeon thinks that my left nipple will heal ok. He thinks that the healing that I see as problematic is normal and I just need to ride it out. If something does happen, he can create a new one. And with that I am at once relieved and angry. I'm angry that I lost part of it and that it's just ok. I'm relieved that I'm not losing more of it. This is not how I imagined recovery.
He also shot up the scar on my chest with cortisone. He says that he uses a tiny needle so it doesn't hurt. But damn, did that little needle hurt and the solution hurt going in. It feels like there is constant pressure on my sternum normally and with that it was very irritated.
I still have to keep all my scars covered with tape, a silicone pad or this Scar Guard product that I brush on. I make raised, red, unappealing scars. Just another notch in the bedpost of things that didn't go as planned with surgery.
Yesterday when I got home from the doctor's appointment I was mentally exhausted. I had a headache, my chest hurt and all I wanted to do was sleep. My insomnia has been rearing it's ugly head and I'm averaging about 3-4 hours a night. Even though my "office" is in the bedroom across the hall from mine, it was to far away yesterday. The thought of pushing the button to turn on the computer was more that I could physically do. The idea that I'd have to use my brain for something other than sleep and taking migraine meds was impossible. So I didn't.
When Pete got home, I had been laying in bed, sleeping off and on and taking migraine meds. He asked me how I was doing and paused. He finally asked if I thought that I was depressed. He says that I'm holding back with him and not telling him what's going through my head. It makes him feel like an outsider in my world. This is not my intention and I got angry. I believe that potentially, if I say all these things out loud they are true. And having them be true is scary. Very scary.
So I made an appointment with my doctor today about my insomnia, my migraines and to talk about the possibility that I am depressed. I admit defeat in this emotional battle of being a Previvor and having surgery. Defeat.
Oh girl. I am praying for you. I hope this all gets easier.
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