It’s D DAY and I’m jumpy. Excitement isn’t the first thing that would rate highly on a feelings check but that is how I felt. Its a different level of excitement, not the I just sat behind the wheel of a new car excitement, more of a bodily sensation. My limbs are uncontrollably jumpy, some nervous twitches and I’m blurting out sentences that sound so incredibly surreal and stupid. I am very aware of my breathing, my heart heavy and strong, boomp boomp, boomp boomp. This was not the same waiting room outside the Principals office in 8th Grade this was much much worse. I was desperately trying to draw upon some kind of inner clairvoyance to give me a heads up, asking myself, so do I have cancer or not? Am I going to walk out of here unscathed or is my world going to implode?
My husband and I are finally called in, pleasantries are exchanged and the Oncologist gets down to business straight away. Words, words, and more words. This is taking way too long to explain were my first thoughts. Okay, starting to feel very odd, a rush of heat and sweaty armpits. Why is he going on and on? He is talking so much. Bam, he says it, It’s a malignant tumour- You have Breast Cancer and we have to perform a lumpectomy next week and you will loose your nipple. Whoa, back up. Did you say loose the nipple?
Looking back now, boy did I cry over that nipple. A week after Diagnosis Day I celebrated my birthday lunch with girlfriends and at varying stages of drunken mess I’d let out sobs over the nipple cripple. I was so distressed about loosing that damn nipple, I cried my guts out and made some pretty loud sobbing sounds. It wasn’t all sadness and tears, there were plenty glasses of champagne, natural wine, I think I ate a plant, we hugged the waiter and I tried to get into the boot of my friends car as I thought it would be more fun to get to the next drinking venue. Luckily I have good friends who managed to talk me out of it. Yes I do have that photo of me in the boot, no I’m never up loading it.
Loosing the nipple brought back fond school memories of me throwing the pickle from my Big Mac above my head with careless abandon to watch it get stuck to the ceiling. I couldn’t stop imagining my Oncologist doing the exact same thing with my nipple.