Happy anniversary to me!

Five years ago, I was having a mastectomy. Actually, the surgery was at 2:15pm, so five years ago right this minute I was probably finishing up a pre-op appointment with the plastic surgeon (Hi, Dr. Heistein!). I believe my instructions were no food or water after midnight, so I was very thirsty and pretty tense. I don't remember a lot of details about that day (honestly, probably due to the no water thing as much as anxiety; thirst is pretty distracting), but I remember checking into the hospital at about noon and pleading — pleading — with the intake nurse to let me keep my underpants on. For some reason it was really important to me. (I guess sometimes a woman just needs her underpants to feel secure, you know?) She kindly relented and let me wear them during the surgery, and I do realize that's not actually a detail you really needed to know.

I also remember the anesthesiologist telling me, "I've given you the happy juice," and I responded, "Okay. Bye-bye." I was obviously right about the bye-bye part, since that's all I remember until I woke up back in my room.

I did, at some point, think I ought to take a last look at my left breast before it and I parted company. I don't think I did, though, and honestly I wasn't all that sentimental about it. No angst. I was okay, as long as it leaving also ended the breast cancer thing. Of course, in the following months, I had times when I lay in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I had made the right choice.

Well, five years later, I can tell you I believe I did. My chances of recurrence went down dramatically because I opted for mastectomy, and that's something I can sincerely appreciate.

So, anyway, today's going to be a good day, pretty much however it goes.