It started out as another one of those days.
When I look back, I think it is tied to having to have another procedure.
Another procedure.
I remember when this was all happening Derek made a comment about how unfortunately this was just the beginning of being poked, prodded, and uncomfortable, and I thought hmmm..after all the initial testing, biopsies, scans, and then surgery...like how much am I really going to be touched out??
HA! That was a silly question.
So here I go again with the dark thoughts.
We've heard these before and they are creeping back today.
I am sick of how my body is changing already.
I’m softer.
I’m bloated.
I’m full of fluid. Literally. I need fluid removed today, and likely another drain placed.
But I’ve been here before.
It’s just another time in my life where I really need to take charge.
So I decided to lift (legs only) in our home gym.
I did my body weight squats on the Smith machine.
Alternating lunges on the bosu ball.
3 way calf raises.
Squat holds on the bosu.
I danced.
I cried. That surprised me. It kind of came out of nowhere.
I cried for what I’ve lost. I cried for what is to come.
I cried because here I was "lifting," i.e, using my own weight, where 2 months ago I was the top of the leaderboard squatting over 250lbs.
Then I wiped that shit off and pushed harder.
Strong is the only choice.
Well that's what the sticker on my computer tells me.
And I am not someone who wants to wear or display the breast cancer ribbon - but that sticker speaks to me. Likely because it says, "strong".
My strong may look different, but it IS still there.

After my gym sess, it was time to head to get the fluid drained.
While I didn't get the actual phot as I left my phone with my MIL, this is what 90 cc's of fluid looks like! All that was AROUND my expander, not in it. OUCH.
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They are making sports balls, Eagles, and bunny crayons!
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