Friday, September 08, 2006

Allowing mutilation

A year ago today I signed a piece of paper giving my consent for my right breast to be removed. I had tears pouring down my face and as I went to sign I shouted/screamed/vocalised; I couldn't sign it without that. Somewhere I have a copy of that piece of paper and one day I will look at the signature: I bet it doesn't look anything like my signature because I don't think that was me.

I think the signing of that paper was the worst part - almost worse than waking up after the mastectomy. Apparently as I woke up from the anaesthetic, I was crying. Utterly unconsciously. But still tears were coming. I don't really remember. But having to say 'yes, I allow this' - it was awful, because I didn't want them to mutilate me. But I did and they did.

After I signed the consent form they let me go home as long as I promised to come back by 7.30 the following morning. I made David take some pictures of me - you know - with both breasts. I haven't looked at them since. Maybe I will one day.

1 comment:

Terri said...

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for you. It's just not fair. Or right. It just isn't. I know from some of your writing that you try to be too strong to ask those things out loud so let me stamp my feet and cry and say those things for you right now. It's not fair. It sucks. Why you? Why now? What's with life anyway? How can this be possible damn it. Okay. That may not have helped you but it did help me just a tiny, itsy, bitsy, little bit. It sucks. You are beautiful - moreso than most I think. But, it's still not fair.