Farewell

T'was the day before my surgery and much had yet to be done:
We had our children to spend a last, "normal" day with before surgery,
We had our paper-route papers to fold, bag and deliver,
Laundry to wash, dry, and fold,
Rooms to tidy,
A dog to walk,
Lists to be drawn up,
Piano to be practised,
Bags to be packed,
Meals to be prepared, eaten and cleaned up,
Last visits with some family members (my mom, my brother and sister in law),
Phone calls with many family members and friends telling us they were praying for us,
Emails with prayers,
Texts with well-wishes.
There was so much to be done that there was little opportunity for worry.
And then, evening came and we could sit and have a quiet dinner with our children.  We talked one more time about what morning would bring:

"Mom and Dad have to get up early tomorrow to go to the hospital.  If you are not awake, we will kiss you good bye and see you soon, okay?"

"Okay."

"So all your things are packed.  Aunt Crystal will be here nice and early and have breakfast with you and take you to where you are going for a few days.  Are you excited?"

"Well, kind of ..."

"You will have lots of cool and exciting adventures.  And we will see you soon!"

"Are you scared, mom?"

"Only of the needles!  Mom is still a giant needle-suck.  But I'm not scared of anything else, okay?  It's a totally normal, almost-boring surgery for the doctors!  And, God is right there taking care of mom.  Okay?"

"Okay."

"Wanna watch a movie now?"

"YEAH!"

Ah....so thankful for the distraction of tv sometimes!
We watched a movie together and tucked in our beautiful babies:  Liam, Donovan, Gwen and Lochlan.  I may have kissed them many many many many times as we pulled the covers up to their chins and turned out their lights.

"Uh, mom, gross...." but even my one baby-boy who has decided over the past year that he "hates" kisses gave me a kiss on the lips:  "It's a duck kiss, mom!"  he said, bravado trying to win out as I held him.  (It was the sweetest duck kiss ever, Dons, I thought!)

Paul and finished up some last packing and organizing and tried to do normal evening activities.  I felt restless and weird.
How do you prepare to lose a body part?
I had prayed and accepted that this needed to happen.
I knew that a mastectomy was the best medical plan of action to get rid of the cancer.
But I felt like I was betraying a part of myself.
So I sat down at my computer and composed a good-bye letter.  Yes; to my boob (it's how I deal, okay?)
The letter is pretty personal but I will share a few lines (my mom said I should and I almost always listen to her!!):

"Dear Left Breast...

....We’ve had some good times together.  For years, you were flat and I was pretty unaware of you.  But then you went and began to grow.  I recall being pretty embarrassed about that.  I’m so sorry.  I recognize now that that was just a part of my body becoming a woman.  I so loved being a girl that I did not want to acknowledge the fact that I was changing and growing up...  But then mom gently urged me to buy my first bra.  Oh how horrified I was!  
Remember how the immature Grade 7 boys used to snap my bra strap and the bra straps of all the other Grade 7 girls?  I remember being both horrified and strangely pleased.  I was growing up and people were taking notice....

...Remember all those beautiful nursing moments?  It used to hurt when my milk first came in but I would not trade those nursing moments for anything.  Remember Liam, then Donovan?  Remember Gwen, then Lochlan?  You nourished and nuzzled my babies.  You fed them as they cuddled in close.  Those were such sweet, tender and beautiful times.  We spent a lot of time together with those babies….remember all those half asleep night feeds?  They were tough but unforgettable moments…..through half-closed blinds, streetlight lamps gently illuminated you and me and the babies in the quiet moments of the night…

....And then, cancer.  Cancer filled you up and brought me to doctors and tests, biopsies and chemotherapy, and now surgery. 

They are going to take you away.  I will miss you.  I will miss you so much.   You’ve been with me for this whole crazy ride of a life.   But you have to go.  You might make me too sick and I have so much yet to live for.  You will not be forgotten.  Even when and if I decide to have reconstructive surgery and a new breast is made, even then, I will not forget you.  It will not be the same.  You have been there from the start, you have been an important part of me and I will never forget you.

Go easy into the night.

Love Brigette

Weird as that may seem to all of you, writing that farewell letter was cathartic.  I felt much better afterwards.

I kissed Paul good-night, checked on Liam, Donovan, Gwen and Lochlan (giving them many many many more good-night kisses) and then crawled into bed.

Before turning out the lights, I turned to a stack of recipe cards my sister in law, Ashley, had given to me.  On each card was an encouraging Bible text.  I read through them all.....and was struck again how often God tells me to not be afraid.  To not be discouraged.  I love Deut. 31: 8 "The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.  Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged."  and Psalm 147: 3  "He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds."  Man, what a God!  

Maybe I was pretty nervous about losing a body part but God was right there alongside me.  He was all ready to bind up my wounds and comfort my sorrows.  With all those assurances, there was nothing left to worry about.  

I slept.

- Brigette

Coming soon (when my muscle spasms cease....typing hurts...):

The Sharpie-Markered Surgeon.

The Pajama/ Housecoat Fiasco.

The Purple-Nosed Mystery.

Recovery Room Drama and the Singing Senior.

Jillian Michaels Ain't Got anything on Me and My Post-Surgery Workouts!

Paul- The Wonder Husband and Perfect Care-Giver!