So . . . on Wednesday, I had what I was hoping would be my one and only adventure in reconstructive surgery. Here's a highly edited version of my response to same:
A total mismatch.
A loooong incision.
I still can't lie down to sleep.
I hate how I look and I hate that I now have to consider additional surgery.
I feel as if I were duped. I totally bought into the idea that this would be the easiest solution and that I would look fine. I thought that my expectations were at least borderline realistic. I was not looking to be a cover model for the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue.
What I got were months of painful procedures and an appearance that is not acceptable.
My only goals were to look unremarkable and to put this all behind me, and I could not even accomplish that much. I am utterly discouraged, and not least of all by the fact that, cancer-free and relatively healthy, I have no business complaining, and yet: I am very, very unhappy.