Reality Of Acceptance

22^nd October 2009

I had a sleepless night last night the pain in my back is still there. I thought once the tube had gone that would be it, but no such luck. I guess I have to suffer for a little bit longer. Steve kept trying to comfort me even got me my pain killers. The pills seem to relax me even give me an high of sorts. I don’t know if I could of got through the night without them. I know what it feels like to want a fix of sorts without the thirst.

The pain is getting better mum won’t stop fussing over me. Family mean well when they want to help, but I’m 39 years old with legs and arms.

I’ve stopped the pain killers to Steve’s dismay. Yes I am restless when I sleep, but it is the stitches that are dragging and causing the pain. The breast is not a breast but a rock on my chest. It don’t move it just sits there pert and stubborn. Whereas my right breast lies flat against my ribs. So I have a fried egg and a stiff meringue peek.

Sophia came running into the bathroom and said, “Mummy you look funny with the same?” she points to my right breast with the nipple. Now do I laugh cry throw a hissy fit or smile. Of course I smile she is a child and my child too.

The fact is my breast is not my breast it is a implant. Maybe with time it will soften and with the nipple it will fit in, but I am not so certain. The hot water caresses my chest, but I can feel nothing down my left side where it sits. Is this how someone feels with implants? I know they have not had their nerve endings cut, but damn. I have never wanted to alter my chest. I have joked about it and stuffed socks in my bra, but I really did not care. Sophia offers to wash my new breast with a sponge, but I send her away. How can I except this thing when I have no feeling in it? I can honestly understand why women lose the plot.