Dating after cancer Free adult chat only worldwide
My aunt thought I was crazy to disclose so much right away. There’s a certain kind of freedom that comes from having your world turned upside down.A week after I left the hospital, I wasn’t able to pull a shirt over my head, but I felt ready to have my first date in my new state.I always enjoyed my perky B minus cups (as I sometimes fondly called them) and never had the desire to upgrade.My nipples were always a huge erogenous zone for me that I knew I would sadly have to say goodbye to.They both saw what I did and encouraged me to look. In the middle of my ant hills, there were lines going across, not as bad as I had imagined them to look.I was mildly fascinated, like these new bumps on my chest were some science experiment. Getting Back in the Game I couldn’t let little things like starting reconstructive breast surgery, not having nipples, and having scars, get in the way of my dating life. It truly had become my lifeline in the midst of all the high-stakes drama that was my new reality.After an hour, I realized that even on vicodin, talking about hangers is just as boring as I always imagined it would be.I never need to have a conversation about hangers again, so this was the perfect first person to try my disclosure on. “I’m a single mom, my ex husband is a sociopath, and I just had a double mastectomy.
So I made the decision that I would tell everyone on the first date: I’m a single mom, and I just had my breasts removed so I’m under reconstruction.
Going Under the Knife The night before my surgery, I took off my bra, put on my bunny ears and tried my best to squeeze out a smile, as I posed on my bed.
I asked my friend to take pictures of me, so I could remember what my real breasts looked like.
I also had my hair done six months earlier, the day I kicked my husband out of the house. It's about me: a single mom back in the dating pool who was facing a total breast reconstruction, but with a head of hair that really had its shit together. On the bright side, as the doctor put it, I had the best kind of cancer, Ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS), caught at the earliest stage.
My daughter was two at the time, and I had just found out he was living a dark double life. After leaving my ex husband, my friends promised me that things could only get better. He recommended that I get a single mastectomy, since it was in three different quadrants of my left breast.
Yes, I was still on vicodin, but that made the date even more pleasant.