by Karin Aharon
“It’s really rare what happened to you. It’s unclear why it even happened in the first place.”
“I know,” I mumbled tearfully.
“As long as everything is OK now,” he repeated and tried calming me down, “I have to go. Feel better and if something happens, call me.”
“OK. Thank you so much again! You really saved my life!” I actually meant it.
“No need thanking me. Feel better,” he said and left the room. I stayed there alone again.
The rumor spread, and Dr. Katzman also came to visit me in the morning in between his operations. He checked me there, instead of having me drive to his clinic. He removed my bandages and confirmed everything was healing as it should. At least my body was working properly in that regard.
“You, I won’t forget,” he said when he left. It was mutual, I thought to myself.
I was contemplating whether I should go to the mirror in the adjacent bathroom. I was scared to see my new breasts, and mostly the scar across them. I didn’t know if I could handle it and decided to wait until I got back home.
***
“This is your release form, Shirley,” the nurse said with indifference, “it is recommended that you have regular checkups with a hematologist.”
“OK,” I said and couldn’t wait for her to give me the papers so I could go back home.
“Should I help you stand up?” Michael asked with caution because he had realized I was angry.
“No,” I stood up quickly and sighed with pain. These twenty-four hours were excruciatingly long, and after so many sleepless nights, all I wanted was to get back home.
We left the ward quietly and went towards the main parking lot. This visit was short, but I had enough for a lifetime.
Chapter 79
It drizzled and felt like winter. It was as if I had been set free after years of being locked up. Everything seemed different. I was somewhat lucky they had found that complication on time, and on the other hand, I felt as if life had screwed me over again. Getting blood clots was a rare complication that would affect my future. One of the interns told me I would have to take blood thinners for a long time and that I would need injections before long flights. I would need blood thinners before my ovaries’ removal, just to be on the safe side, he said, and that from now on I was in a high-risk group. Yet another high-risk group. That’s about the last thing I needed.
“So, should I cancel the caterer?” Michael asked before he closed the car door for me.
“What caterer?” I was too busy with my thoughts and didn’t understand what he was talking about. He got into the driver’s seat and started the car.
“The catering for your Shiva. Everything’s ready, should I cancel?” he smiled and looked satisfied with his joke.
“I think you should. You can let your admirers know that they need to wait a little longer,” I smiled at him. The further we drove from the hospital the more I felt things were starting to get back to normal.
I came home exactly fifteen minutes before Natalie was supposed to come home with the kids, and I decided it was a good time to take a shower. Just the thought of all the hospital germs, freaked me out. I took off all my clothes and threw them straight to the laundry basket, then stepped into the shower.
It was the first time I took a shower without my bandages. I took a deep breath and unhooked the special bra I needed to wear for a few weeks. I tried recognizing myself in the mirror, but it was strange. I looked like a Barbie, at least when it came to my breasts. It didn’t feel like they were mine. As if someone had photo shopped my face onto someone else’s body. I approached the mirror and saw the scars. Two ugly red stripes replaced my nipples.
Dr. Katzman said that basically, we could recreate the nipples, but considering the blood clots, we should wait before we do something else. I wasn’t actually too excited about it, and was happy I had to wait. I wanted to first get used to this new addition.
It was strange. I tried recognizing my body, but couldn’t. My breasts were swollen and not at all what they would have looked like after three pregnancies and breastfeeding.
And then I saw them. All the stretch marks from my pregnancies and breastfeeding. Marks of the years that have passed. Only then did I recognize myself a bit and understood that even though there was silicone inside, they were still mine, and it was still me.
I took a quick shower and gently wore a buttoned shirt so I wouldn’t have to lift up my arms. Everything was sore and painful. I looked at myself again before I left and for a second, I looked like myself again, like I would before leaving for work. I looked like a normal woman again. An outsider could have thought that nothing had happened to me. That I was just a lawyer, a mother of three small children, Michael’s wife. But I felt like a survivor. I was now a true previvor.
I heard Ariel singing and Adam calling me. “Mom, where are you?”
“I’m in my bedroom,” I replied, and the kids ran in. They weren’t even aware that anything had happened, or of the fact that I hadn’t slept at home.
“Mom, are you sad?” Ariel asked.
“No, sweetie, I’m very happy.”
“Mom, can you watch Cathy’s movie with me?” Ariel grabbed my hand and pulled me to the living room.
Natalie went home and we watched Mamma Mia together, for the millionth time. I looked at them dancing and having fun and I knew. I knew I had made the right decision. I would be here for my children. In a few years I will remove my ovaries and tubes, and anything else they might recommend that I remove. Just so I can stay healthy. Maybe I was lucky. I was given the right to save my own life.
And if I ever do get cancer, despite it all, I could look my kids in the eye and say: “Mom did everything she could,” and this time, that ‘mom’ would be me.
About the Author
Karin Aharon has been a lawyer, social media manager and Israeli Supernanny. Despite her Multiple Sclerosis, she has been an amateur belly-dancer for the past 5 years. There is no boring moment for Karin and her husband while raising 3 children – a high functioning autistic teenage boy, and two hyperactive girls. Her health file fills up several folders and is an inspiration for her humoristic writing.
Message from the Author
The book gives voice to tens of thousands of women who are coping with the issue and raise awareness of hereditary cancer. Life challenges us, but with humor, support and courage we can overcome them.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapt
er 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
About the Author
Message from the Author