CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR REMEMBRANCE
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CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
"Louisa, I wouldn't try tell you what to do. They can do a great job now and I can tell you my breasts look pretty good for not being the originals. It's just that it has never felt normal. There's a tightness in my chest that I know I will just have to live with. It's not painful, but it is always there. Would I do it again? I don't know. Maybe not. It's not a decision you can make twice. But hey, your husband is a doctor. What does he say?"
"Martin said he would not give me his opinion until I had thought about it myself first. I've been reading and talking to people like you who have had breast cancer. I wish he would tell me but he won't, at least not yet."
"Well, what are you thinking? Are you going to do it?"
"I don't know Tamara. I just don't know!"
Tamara Walker was one of four women from Portwenn with whom I had spoken about having reconstruction after my surgery. Patient confidentiality kept Martin from telling me everyone he knew who had gone through breast cancer, but in a small town I was pretty sure I knew most of the women who had experienced it. I would have my surgery within a week and I still had not made up my mind. Only one of the four was totally positive about the experience. It was hard for me to think about just having two scars on my chest. I still wanted to speak with Mandie Boskano because she had gone through a mastectomy less than a year ago. I went to her house one Tuesday morning after her kids were in school and Billy was out on the boat.
"Louisa, I hate you have to go through this. It will be okay but it's no walk in the park. I will do anything I can to help you."
"Mandie, I just can't decide whether or not to have reconstruction. What do you think? You look pretty normal to me. Must have gone well for you."
Mandie laughed as she replied, "Oh, that is quite a compliment but what you see are nothing but the equivalent of socks in the bra. Remember that when we were teens? I chose not to have reconstruction. After looking at the pros and cons I just did not want to do it."
"But don't you miss your breast? How is it living with nothing there?"
"Louisa, how could I miss what was going to kill me? And you know what? My Billy doesn't treat me any different. He doesn't look at me funny when I take my clothes off. I know he loves me, and that's all that matters. Listen, I know your Martin and he will love you no matter what. He will be just like my Billy. You don't have to worry about that. Isn't life weird? I worried about the size of my breasts when I was a teenager, and now I am down to one."
At first I thought that reconstruction would be the natural thing to do. No decision required really. Martin gave me some articles and I researched on the computer. I read what the British Association for Cancer Research presented. Martin was glad to clarify he just wouldn't give me his opinion as to what my decision should be. As I began to look at the options I realized my simple conclusion was clouded by many factors. It seemed there were two basic options. Most seemed to go for an implant of saline or silicone that is placed under the skin that has been expanded to accept the device. It is possible to use one's own tissue and muscle taken from a leg or stomach area to form a new breast. Complications are always a possibility and the whole process could take up to a year to complete. Then I looked at what they do to recreate the nipple and areole area. In some cases it is done with creative tattooing. One comment from the cancer society kept coming to mind. "The reconstructed breast will likely never have the feeling or sensitivity of your original breast." I wanted Martin's thinking and whatever it took I was going to force him to tell me.
"Martin, alright, I've talked to my friends. I've read and read and read about this. You know, I am as confused as ever. I just don't know. What do you think I should do?"
"Louisa, I would like to know what you think."
"The thing that keeps coming back to me is that the new breasts will never look or feel like my own breasts. But if there is nothing but scars then I fear you will see me as disfigured or ugly. I know it is silly, but I can't get it out of my head."
"You will always be my beautiful Louisa. Always! I don't know what more I can do to take away those fears." We were sitting on the sofa and Martin took my head in both of his hands and kissed me fully. "I just don't know what more I can do."
"I think you just did. Frankly, I'm leaning against having the procedure."
"Your reservations are well founded. In swimwear or low-cut clothing the natural curve of a restored breast would look as it should, but uncovered you would be able to tell it was surgically restored."
"That's a real issue here, isn't it, knowing how much I like to wear my bikini in Portwenn," said I with twinkle in my eye.
So with that short conversation we came to a firm decision. I would not have breast reconstruction. I told Martin, "So this time next week I guess my cup size will be decided by how many socks I want to stuff in my bra."
"Whatever are you talking about Louisa?"
"Oh, I'm just thinking about something one of your favorite people told me."