Breast Lumpectomy : Performance Anxiety

Nothing new on the cancer front other than I have a surgery date. November 28th. I opted to wait until after the Thanksgiving holiday so I could enjoy friends. I’m not really that nervous about the surgery. I tend to get anxious when there is a performance component attached. For instance, I was not daunted about giving birth to a singleton or twins, as I figured that feat was mostly out of my control. I was, however, terrified about being able to breastfeed one, and later, two. I didn’t fear the pain or discomfort. I was afraid my babies wouldn’t get it and it’d be my failure. Funny how boobs keep bursting into my blog posts even when I’m not really talking about them. The boobs must have a total inferiority complex. I was so twitterpated to return to work after the birth of my first daughter, Rowan, that I stockpiled as much milk as I could humanly produce. I stopped counting the bags in the freezer when I reached 500 ounces. You read that correctly.

My husband, Kevin, will be gone for the first part of December when I’m recooperating from surgery. He just started a crazy wonderful job. He graduated from law school in 2009 but had a hard time finding a job. After working for six months at an insurance defense lawyer puppy mill and being judged solely on his ability to bill hours, he is now an Executive Assistant to a prominent Missouri lobbyist. The job qualifications requested someone with a juris doctorate who was willing to get a pilot’s license and accompany the Executive all over the country. Unlimited hours, unlimited days of the week. Providing continuity and communication with the office. As a West Point graduate, Kevin is finally working a job that he loves that utilizes all of his unique skills. We are over the moon. I mean, we’re over the moon about his job. The cancer part still sucks.