One of the many things that has shocked me about having breast cancer is the grim reality of breast reconstruction. Surgeons can do lots of clever things to rebuild a post-mastectomy chest where a breast used to be - it's a medical triumph, an art, a complex emotional and physical science, a risk, a long-term commitment. I'm not going to delve too deep here into the options and pros and cons of breast reconstruction; I don't know yet whether I'm going to have it done, or whether to simply have my troublesome breast removed and move into the future with an uncomplicated chest. It's a difficult decision.
But there is one thing I do know: I have to say goodbye to what I currently have. Whatever I end up with - definitely a scar, maybe flatness, maybe lopsidedness, maybe firm silicone curves - I have to say goodbye to the soft, scar-free, genuinely natural breast that I have now. It's mine. It's private. It fed my babies. And soon it'll be gone.