April 1, 2011April 1st, 2011 at 6:56 pm by Deanna Dewberry under Deanna's Journey
To pluck or not to pluck – that is the question. I have exactly 29 pitiful hairs forming a blotchy arch over my right eye. There are 32 eyebrow hairs on the left.
So here’s the thing – three of the 29 hairs over my right eye are errant hairs – hairs gone wild – growing willy nilly outside the arch. These are the hairs I used to pluck. Brow perfection was once important in my world. But when you have only 29 eyebrow hairs, should you pluck three of them? Think about this for a moment. When only 29 hairs have shown the temerity, fortitude, and undeniable chutzpa to stand up to chemo, defy the odds, and cling stubbornly to your brow line, should you pluck them just because they’re free spirited hairs who have chosen the proverbial road less traveled?
That’s the question I contemplate every morning in the make-up room of WISH TV. It’s pathetic. I’ll stare at my near hairless brows for 10 minutes, tweezers in hand, trying to decide whether to pluck the wild ones. Then ultimately, out of respect for the fact they’ve stuck around when all other hairs have long departed, I’ll put down the tweezers and walk to the set – fretting about whether viewers can see my errant hairs in HD.
The pluck debate is clear and convincing evidence that I’ve not been very good at making decisions as of late. So when faced with a really weighy decision – what kind of boobies should I get – I’ve been paralyzed, stupefied, and stuck as I struggle with a choice that will affect my body image for the rest of my life.
It’s amazing that you have only two boobs but a wealth of reconstruction choices. You can take fat from your tummy, your thighs or your butt and build new boobs. You can take a flap from your back or stick some implants under your pectoral muscle. It’s dizzying, and I’ve been an emotional wreck.
That’s the reason I’ve not posted a new entry in weeks. I’ve been a weepy, worrying, overwhelmed mess. That really is the only way I can describe it. The more I researched, the more paralyzed I became.
I’ve talked to lots of folks - friends, breast cancer survivors, surgeons. I’ve held implants, cupped reconstructed boobs, and visited a wealth of web sites. It’s been a journey that left me lost without a map because no map exists. The right choice for one woman may not be the right choice for me. This decision is deeply personal, and ultimately it’s a decision only I can make.
After much angst and anguish, I’ve made a choice. It’s funny. I couldn’t make a decision until I took a good long look at my butt. This journey has taught me that sometimes you have to look back in order to find your way forward. I’ll explain in the next post.