27. Xmas and New Year

Xmas is a blur of catering, eating and drinking - I have overcommitted and there is a succession of visitors during the Xmas week at our house; but it is lovely and feels important at the end of this turbulent five months to be surrounded by family and friends. More than once we toast the importance of good health in the coming year.

My new profile is commented on by my close friends; "magnificent" and "pneumatic" are two words used - they are not used to seeing me with anything of substance up top... Neither am I - I misjudge the ensuite bathroom door back into the bedroom in the dark one night and knock my breast. My husband comments that my breasts are now entering the room before me. I think I've cut myself, I say as I climb into bed, but I'm not sure as I can't feel anything. Sure enough, when I turn the light on, there is a small cut - sensation on both breasts is still limited.

I make time during the Xmas break to escape for some bike rides - I find the speed and freedom more enjoyable than ever. I feel energised and well, despite my still poor sleep patterns which don't seem to have returned to pre-cancer-experience levels.

New Year is a quiet family affair by the seaside which suits perfectly. We book in to the local hotel spa for the day but I have no swimsuit that fits my new shape. My mother in law takes me shopping and we find one that is dark and has enough clever stitching and padding to conceal my unequal sized breasts which rather stick out at the sides. I feel reasonably confident in it. I love being in the outdoor swimming pool and hot tub - another step towards normality. However, my arms tire quickly doing lengths and I realise my pectoral muscles are not as strong as they were, despite following the daily exercise leaflet following the two operations. This is further confirmed a day later when we go ten pin bowling and I have to use the same ball as the children, which is challenging as my fingers don't fit in the holes, but I struggle to pick up the heavier bowling balls.

New Year's Day is stormy and windy - very few people venture out. I find the walk on the beach battling the stinging sand and salt spray exhilarating in a way I don't remember since childhood. I feel the same the next day in a long coastal walk as we run down sand dunes and stop to admire a rainbow - the emotional charge of the last few months has heightened my appreciation of the physical world and my own physicality - and mortality.