like a diamond ...: sadness

Friday, November 23, 2007

sadness

There is an aura of sadness around me now. It is a gentle sadness, that seems to be like a blanket, protecting me.

I know that I will lose my breast in a few days, and I have accepted that. I am sad because I am losing something familiar, something that has been with me for a long time, something that I had assumed would be with me forever.

It is like an early good-bye.

I said to Sebastian that I was beginning to understand that this loss/mourning seems to be at the heart of what we call “living”.

Sometimes I cry a little bit, tears that seem to spill over from this place of sadness.

like a diamond ...

Before the mastectomy, I saw an MRI image of my invasive breast cancer on a computer screen. This was the day before they did the MRI-guided biopsy. There was nothing vague about it – it looked clear and defined, bright and shiny – like a diamond. When I saw it, I did not know that it was cancer, and I asked the Dr. what else it could be. Oh, a density of fibrous tissue or something, he said. All I knew was that it was different from everything around it, and I have come to trust that my breast cancer is, indeed, some kind of treasure.

Though I write honestly, and sometimes perhaps flippantly and cynically, about my experiences with breast cancer and the medical system, I mean no disrespect to the professionals who treat me. I am incredibly grateful for their knowledge and skills, their very hands(!) – and I am humbled by the way they dedicate their lives (and days and nights) to the health and care of our bodies (my body!). The personalities of my doctors and their assistants, with all of their human variations, truly do bless and charm me.