Joys of Single Motherhood

I have a fabulous new job that I love. So fabulous that I feel as though I have been reborn. Or at least my career has been reborn. I get to do all the things I love and they pay me well. This was the life I had up until 2001, when I suppose things changed for the worse for many of us. Earlier this week I had the chance to visit the home office and "roost" for a few days. The purpose was to meet my co-workers in person and to get a better handle on a new process. Suddenly not only do I have a great job but I work for a great company and there are 15 different kinds of freshly ground coffee in the breakroom. I don't even drink coffee and I'm impressed. What's even better is the huge wall-sized cooler filled with chilled Diet Coke. I saw old-timers I'd worked with at other companies years before. They told me about their grown children and they politely held in check their Schadenfreude upon learning of my relative newborns--ages 8 and 11. Sometimes I swear

My mastectomy was performed on Friday, April 25 th . I got to Greenwich Hospital early for my 0700 curtain call so I sat for 15 minutes in the lobby marveling at how uncomfortable those lovely pale green love seats are. The first doctor I saw was my plastic surgeon "Keith". He used a purple Sharpie to draw guidelines for both breasts and some sort of midline . I think I remember both he and the "breast surgeon" initializing these markings but that might just be a weird hallucination. I did stress to him that lingerie is important to me and that any change in size that meant replacing my collection would be a big bummer. I came out of surgery in the late afternoon. I steadfastly avoided looking at any spot even near the site of the surgery. Anesthesia is a strange beast. For days I had flashes of memories--being fed soup, being fed some sort of strange frozen peach dessert, sipping ginger ale, and generally being out of it. On Sunday, I left the hospital