After two months waiting, Homebase are finally delivering my wardrobe. I was at R’s last night, so I had to get up early because for some unknown but very stupid reason, I’d arranged for delivery between 7.30am and lunchtime. WTF? We were up late the night before, sex is as good as ever I’m pleased to report, so dragging myself out of bed at 7am was not fun.
The wardrobe was delivered at 7.45. I went straight back to bed, not waking up again until 11ish. I couldn’t have a shower, because the dressing this time isn’t waterproof, so had to wash instead. Déjà vu. While washing, I watched my boob. It still looked a bit lumpy to the right of the scar. Unable to help myself, I felt it. Not quite as sore, I was able to prod and feel. Yep, still two lumps to the right. The tissue to the left, while firm, was not lumpy to the same degree. While feeling the lumps on the left, I felt something between the two of them move very slightly. Is this a good or a bad thing? Who the hell knows? Feeling fractionally more philosophical, I put my bra on again. While the bra is on, it’s very difficult to tell if the lump is there or not, so in a way, it prevents my obsessional prodding during the day. The new bra is such a hassle to get on and off, being so closely fitting, it prevents the OCD that I’m developing about my left breast. Perhaps that should have been the name of this bloody blog. Never mind male objectification defining me by my breasts, bloody cancer is definitely doing that. If my boobs are well, so am I.
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