Actually, the 3-year anniversary of my double mastectomy was yesterday. Maybe it's kind of a good thing that I forgot and didn't realize the significance of the date until today, because it implies that the experience marked by the date is not occupying a huge place in my psyche?
Interestingly, to me, it feels like I've been managing my cancer treatment forever, so "3 years" sounds like a surprisingly short period of time. On the other hand, when I focus on just those words - "3 years" - then it strikes me as a long time. It's weird how time, something that is objectively measured, can feel so subjective.
I also realized I haven't posted any photos in a while, so here are a few new ones.
This is me now.
I never did go back to wearing contacts after stopping during chemo, so I wear glasses all the time now.
I haven't cut my hair since I shaved it. I'm thrilled that it's grown back as thick and as black as before, especially because I know that for some people, post-chemo hair can grow back white or gray, or with a different texture. The top is still a bit thinner than it used to be, but it's the kind of thing that maybe only I can notice, so I try not to let it detract from the gratitude of having a full head of hair again.
I like that it's long enough to help camouflage my flatness, but truth be told, probably 98% of the time my hair is up in a messy bun because of the heat of hot flashes. Since getting my ovaries out, the hot flashes have been stronger and more frequent. It finally dawned on me that maybe this is why so many women cut their hair short as they get older!
Anyway, here are a couple photos of my port scar.
I can't remember exactly when I stopped using the scar cream every night, but for months now I've been applying it maybe 3 or 4 times a week. At this point, I figure I'll just finish the tube and be done with it. When I first took these photos, I didn't think the scar looked any better, but when I compared them to my last photos from over a year ago, it does look better. Maybe the scar cream helped, or maybe it's just the passage of time. Who knows!
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