A couple of months ago, my friend told me I was about to have a heck of a year. I was going to have a new car, new boobs, and a new grandbaby. I was going to be "hot stuff," she said. Well, I'm two-thirds of the way there, and it's pretty awesome, all right. Three more months, and I will have the whole set.
I saw the surgeon and his nurse today. They are as happy with my healing progress as I am. I have been cleared for another leap towards normalcy. I don't have to wear the compression garment anymore. I can wear regular sports bras, and in another few weeks, go without altogether when I want. Tomorrow I see the PT I saw for lymphoedema, and she gets to tell me what sort of sleeves will be best from here.
On Wednesday, I go back for my next round of Botox for migraine. I need it so much. I'm always limping across the finish line at the end of every twelve week cycle. Right now the upper right quadrant of my brain feels as brittle as charcoal. I snoozed in my chair after the kids came for dinner and left. Now I'm sluggish and stupid. I never took any photos to share, and I don't even have the fortitude to take a picture of one of the pets as a placeholder. I'll catch up on photos later this week. I'll find something to binge on.
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