In October of 2011, I found out I had a genetic mutation that increases my risk of breast cancer by up to 87%.
In March of 2012, I had a prophylactic double mastectomy.
I'm 23 years old. Read my story to learn more!
I write this blog post as a very proud daughter and as a very excited member of the breast cancer prevention community. I’m so pleased to share with you the good news that my mother, Shirley Horn, is the new Director of Marketing & Communications for the Dr. Susan Love Research Foundation.
Founded in 1983, the Foundation’s “groundbreaking research is focused on finding the cause of breast cancer and stopping it before it starts.” When my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer for the first time in 1999, Dr. Susan Love’s Breast Book was a key resource to navigating the difficult road to recovery. The book is now in its fifth edition, a testament to its value to the breast cancer community.
The Santa Monica-based Foundation is a small group of people dedicated to supporting breast cancer research. Its Army of Women program boasts over 371,000 women to participate in cancer-related clinical research, and its Health of Women study is an actively-growing online medical research study.
When breast cancer reared its ugly head again in 2011 with her second diagnosis and the news of our BRCA gene mutation, my mom felt empowered to take a stand. This is the perfect opportunity for her. She writes: “In my new role, I’ll be spreading the word about this amazing organization and the visionary Dr. Susan Love, promoting participation in the Army of Women and Health of Women study, and seeking high-profile marketing partners to help the Foundation further its mission.” I am thrilled that she will be able to contribute to the fight about breast cancer.
Please join me in congratulating my mom on this stellar achievement by signing up for the Army of Women and the Health of Women study. When you join the Army of Women, you will gain access to information about all sorts of breast cancer-related research studies, such as a study about the effects of certain types of birth control on breast tissue. And the Health of Women study consists of a series of questionnaires that are completed entirely online. You don’t have to have a personal or family history of breast cancer to participate in either effort, and heck–you don’t even have to be a woman! So why wouldn’t you join?
Congratulations, Mom, on your wonderful new position. I can’t wait to see the difference you make.
One year ago today I was lying in a hospital bed at UCLA Ronald Reagan Medical Center, extremely groggy and extremely happy. Part of it was from the pain medication, I’ll admit, but most of that happiness was caused by an overwhelming sense of relief.
Some women wait years between testing positive for a BRCA mutation and having a prophylactic mastectomy. I waited 140 days. 140 days of discontent. 140 days of suspicion. 140 days of self-loathing. 140 days of feeling like a stranger in my own body.
I went into my mastectomy on the morning of March 13, 2012 with anxiety and excitement, not knowing what would come next. I woke up in the afternoon without my breasts, but with the wonderful feeling of peace. A weight had been lifted: I wouldn’t have to think about breast cancer all the time, and I could get back to loving myself again.
One year later, I can say with confidence that I am once again glad to be me, Rachel Joy Horn. I don’t feel broken anymore, and I’m not living in fear of my body.
It’s been an interesting year, but looking back on it, certain moments that at the time felt awful were just hiccups along the way. Those Jackson-Pratt drains were horrendous, they really were–but whatever. My family didn’t care about them. My boyfriend didn’t mind them. My friends didn’t think they were weird. Despite them being a huge inconvenience to dressing like a normal human being, they didn’t stop me from having fun and being social.
At the time it was playing out, it felt as if the cellulitis infection and subsequent tissue expander removal would ruin my life. I literally sat in the hospital bed, Googling freezing-cold places I could escape to so I would never have to be seen in a swimsuit. But then I found a cotton prosthesis, and my mom made me a kick-ass mastectomy bikini with a waterproof falsie. And so I had One Ugly Summer…One Fun, Sunny, Active, Flat-Chested-on-the-Left-Side Ugly Summer.
One Ugly Summer…
Over the last year, I’ve learned that I have horrible veins and that I have fabulous friends. I’ve discovered that narcotics can give you migraines and that social networking can give you an incredible support community. I’ve realized that talking to doctors is crucial, just as talking to strangers is–you never know who understands and how they can help.
Sometimes I miss my breasts, or more specifically, my breast tissue. It’s a rare moment that I get jealous of another girl’s rack, but it happens. (I’m looking at you, Sports Illustrated cover Kate Upton.) My new boobs are not perfect…but then again, neither were my old ones. They are, however, mine, all 800 ccs and 14.2 cm of them, and they fit me. There are even glorious times when I think that I am the luckiest girl in the world for having them, like when I can wear a backless dress without a bra and not worry about sagging.
Okay, so I’ve never actually worn this dress…but just knowing that I CAN wear it is what matters.
For all of the women going through breast reconstruction right now, I ask you to please be patient. I know that it can seem very disheartening, what with all the scars and the weird shapes and the rippling. But things will look better, just wait…and maybe ask your plastic surgeon about some nipping and tucking.
To my friends and family, thank you for the flowers, the pillows, the sweet treats, the fuzzy elephants, the magazines, the nail polish, the phone calls, the text messages, the cards, the hospital visits…the love.
To acquaintances who have reached out to me with words of support and encouragement, thank you for your courage to speak up.
To my work colleagues, thank you for understanding my circumstances and for accommodating me with such graciousness.
To the wonderful ladies online going through something similar, thank you for your bravery and for your willingness to share your experiences to help me and others like me.
One year has gone by so fast, and I know part of that is thanks to all of you. Before I know it, I’ll have had my implants for ten years and it’ll be time to replace them. But let’s not rush that. =)
Monday was my final final final *crossing my fingers* surgery. Going into it, I felt a little like Veruca Salt. “I want perfect boobs Dr. Festekjian and I want them NOW!” “Festekjian…how much do you want for the perfect boobs? Name your price!” (I guess the answer to that will be arriving after the insurance adjustment in a few weeks!)
But really though. I did feel a bit…oh what should I say…spoiled? After all, I emerged from November’s implant exchange surgery with a pretty decent rack. After the swelling went down and I let things settle in for a month or two, I realized they were a good size and shape. But they weren’t perfect. And perfect is what I wanted, because, well–why not? After all of this–a mastectomy and an infection and reconstruction and all of these surgeries in the name of not getting breast cancer–I might as well get exactly what I want.
The main problems were the unevenness in nipple height and the rippling on the right side. But even the week before the surgery, when I sent an updated photo to a blog follower, she said they looked great and she thought I had already had the surgery to adjust the nipple height! For a moment there I considered canceling the surgery because I didn’t want to push my luck.
But…obviously I didn’t cancel it, and I’m sure glad I didn’t.
Per my usual routine, I spent all of Sunday chugging water like a crazy person to prepare my tiny veins to be poked and prodded. My mom picked me up from my apartment at 6:00 am on Monday morning. Jeani, bless her heart, had scheduled me for the earliest appointment because of the snafu that happened last time.
I checked in at the outpatient surgery center, changed into the sexy hospital gown and matching accessories, then chatted with a nurse. It’s kind of strange when you start to recognize the doctors and nurses…I’m pretty sure this particular nurse, who has been a vegan for over twenty years and always eats salad for lunch, has checked me in three times.
The most miraculous thing happened next. Brace yourself, because what you are about to read may rock your world and make you question everything you know.
A nurse anesthetist came in to talk to me about the anesthesia cocktail and start my IV. She was young, kind…unassuming. Little did I know of the POWERS SHE POSSESSED.
As is custom, my mom and I launched into our tirade about my horrible veins and the atrocities that have befallen me at the hands of IV nurses and anesthesia doctors alike in the walls of the UCLA Medical Center: the constant pokes, the unyielding veins, the need to “call in the big guns” and of course, the multiple PICC lines.
UNSCATHED by these warnings, the young nurse did persist with a smile. “I’ll have to numb you up then!” Haha, you fool! Numbing medicine will do nothing but make my uncooperative veins further retreat into the depths of my wrist/hand/arm/foot/every other part of my body, I mused as she left the room.
Moments later she returned carrying a tiny needle and an IV kit. As she stationed herself to my left, the noble Dr. Festekjian appeared, clad in a red track jacket. As we exchanged the standard hellos, the young nurse poked me with the numbing needle, warning me of a slight sting. “‘Twas nothing”, I murmured.
Then she started the long, daunting process of stabbing me with the IV needle to find a vein. I settled in for the long haul, turning my attention to Dr. Festekjian, when suddenly…within seconds…the voice of an angel rang out.
“All done! Your IV is started.”
A MIRACLE. It took her only ONE TRY, only ONE MEASLY POKE, to start my IV. I wanted to hug her, become her best friend, then follow her around from place to place for the rest of my life so she can always be the one to start my IV.
I was giddy with excitement at this point, but tried to remain steady while Dr. Festekjian played Connect the Dots on my chest with the pretty sterile pen. I figured that if I moved too much and the lines were uneven, it would be my own damn fault if my nips still looked lopsided.
A few minutes later the happy drugs were put into my IV, I was wheeled into the operating room, and then I was out. By 10 am I was awake in the recovery room, and I was discharged by 10:30 am.
Wisely, Dr. Festekjian warned my mom that I would be very bruised and very swollen for a while, possibly with some dimpling. I’m sure he was hoping to avoid the “WTF!” email he received last time. Even with the painkillers, I could definitely feel a dull soreness on my right side where he did all of the work. Even the arm fat near my armpit was super bruised.
I stayed home from work yesterday and today and took a shower this morning. I’m on antibiotics for a few days, and I’m definitely swollen; my right breast looks about one cup size bigger than the left breast, like I have a 1000 cc implant in there instead of 800 cc. And there is certainly some dimpling, mainly where the stitches are holding the skin up. But the nipples sure seem even and the alloderm seems to have gotten rid of the rippling, so I can’t wait to see how they look in a week or two!
My post-op with Dr. Festekjian is on Tuesday morning. I feel okay right now, still a bit sore, but I’ll be returning to work tomorrow. I did go on an hour-long walk this evening to stretch my legs, and that felt great. Hopefully I’ll get permission to head back to the gym next week. Interestingly enough, I am using my pit pillow again. It works well to support my arm when I’m on my computer and when I’m sleeping. Thanks again to my friend Kim who originally introduced me and my mom to pit pillows!
Pictures soon. Right now I’ve got them tucked up nicely in a sports bra so I don’t really feel like digging them out of there.
Instead, I leave you with a photo of the Chester Bug, keeping me company while I worked from home today. Isn’t he just the cutest little kitten? (Yes. I’m that person now. #instacat #catstagram #ilovemycat.)
First off, I want to thank all of my readers for supporting Young Previvors after our Facebook trouble a few weeks ago. Our original group has not been restored yet, nor have we heard anything from Facebook about why the group was deleted. We have, however, started a new Young Previvors group. Our admin, Liz, continues to do a phenomenal job of screening all potential new members, so if you are a previvor or a high-risk young woman, consider joining us.
Things have been uneventful in my world of breast reconstruction, but they’ll pick up a bit in a few weeks. My final-final-final-last-one-I-seriously-promise-you’ll-never-have-to-read-about-it-again-unless-it-looks-ugly surgery is on Monday, February 25. Dr. Festekjian will be doing some minor cosmetic adjustments.
When I saw Dr. Festekjian at my two-month post-op a few weeks ago, I was still concerned about the difference in height between my nipples. Although they’ve certainly improved since my initial implant exchange surgery, the right nipple is still noticeably lower than the left.
At the appointment, Dr. Festekjian asked me point-blank which side I like more. I told him the left side, and to my relief, that was the acceptable answer. He can make my right side match my left side, but because of the extensive work he did on my left side during the implant exchange surgery, he can’t make the left side match the right. Unless, he joked, I get an infection on the right breast. Har har har. Funny.
In the outpatient surgery, he will lift up the right nipple and put some internal stitches in place so it sits higher. He will also add a layer of alloderm underneath my skin, to cover up the rippling. I plan to take a few days off work, but given my quick recovery from the past surgeries, I expect to be back in the office by Thursday. Watch…now that I’ve said that, I’ll have some horrible allergic reaction to the ice cubes in the recovery room and be bed-stricken for the next two months.
Okay, moving on: I have some very important and exciting news to share with everyone. I’d like to introduce you to Chester Frito Horn, my new furry child.
He’s an 18-week-old American medium hair. I officially adopted him from the animal shelter at 11:30 am on Saturday morning, then promptly sent him across the street to the vet surgery center to have his balls removed. Sorry, bug…YOU’RE IN MY WORLD NOW.
I picked him up this afternoon and he seems to be doing just fine. Here he is, Cone of Shame and all. He is now, in my parents’ words, a consultant.
Cat people: how can I get him to stay off of the kitchen counter? I’m scared he’s going to set his tail on fire with the pilot lights on the stove!
Have a fantastic week, everyone. Happy Valentine’s Day!
My mom is a member of the Los Angeles Pink Dragons, a dragon boat racing team of breast cancer survivors. She has been paddling with the Pinks for about a year now. Last night, one of her teammates passed away after a long battle with breast cancer. Frances was my mom’s benchmate on the boat. On the Pink Dragons’ Facebook page, Mom writes: “Frances, your courage and determination was an inspiration to all of us. Your teammates will miss you so. Rest in peace, dear friend.”
Then scrolling down through my Facebook newsfeed, I was accosted by another heartwrenching message, this one from Bright Pink founder Lindsay Avner: “My heart breaks upon learning of the loss of Rebecca, a member of the Bright Pink Vermont family, who lost her battle to breast cancer at only 29 years old.”
29 years old.
Frances and Rebecca’s deaths are just two of many breast cancer-related losses I often hear about, but the news NEVER gets easier to swallow. Frances could have been my mother; Rebecca could have been me. I thank my lucky stars that my mother and I are both healthy and thriving, but two families are hurting right now, and though I did not personally know either woman, I am hurting, too.
These amazing women did not have the chance that I had to say “NO WAY” to breast cancer before it could come knocking. My BRCA mutation robbed me of a lot: the ability to be carefree, the trust I had in my body, and of course, my breasts. But it gave me something too: the chance to save my own life.
I’m a previvor. I survived my predisposition to breast cancer. If you’ve been following my blog, you know it hasn’t been an easy road to walk. I would not wish it upon anyone, especially a young woman like me. But it was necessary.
As more women learn about the BRCA mutations (and other rare genetic mutations linked to breast cancer), they are faced with the difficult decision to undergo prophylactic surgeries. They have questions. They have concerns. They are scared. And sometimes, they feel like they have no where to go, because there is no one who understands.
There is, though. There is a whole community who understands–you just have to turn on a computer.
Yesterday, Emperor Zuckerberg and his droids over at Facebook shut down part of that community. Young Previvors was a group of nearly 200 women just like me. It was a safe haven away from judgment and fear where high-risk women could ask questions, voice concerns and share stories of hope.
Young Previvors helped me when I was initially shocked by the unevenness of my new silicone implants. I shared my photo, and was soothed by the outpouring of support from women who had over time seen improvement in their own implants.
I helped women on Young Previvors, too. I described the early signs of my cellulitis infection and how I finally got my Jackson-Pratt drains taken out. I reached out to other young women, college students who were just learning about their cancer risk.
Now we need your help.
We don’t know why Facebook shut down Young Previvors. The group was not at all public; on the contrary, the privacy settings were very intense and all members were pre-screened by the group founder/moderator. Only group members could view posts from Young Previvors.
We hope that these efforts from the public will show the people over at Facebook that this group is crucial. Isn’t the point of social networking to connect, to form a community? We did that. Why did Facebook punish us?
If just one young women like me does not find the support she needs because Young Previvors is gone, then it will be a huge loss.
Thank you so much for your help. I will keep you all updated on the progress of the group’s restoration.
Good morning, everyone. I just wanted to pop in and share with you all a nifty little tool from Stanford University, called the BRCA Decision Tool. If you are BRCA 1 or BRCA 2 positive, this calculator could help you assess your cancer risk.
According to the Stanford website, this tool: “calculates the probability of health outcomes for women ages 25-69 who carry a BRCA1 or BRCA2 mutation, and who have never had the following: 1) cancer; 2) screening mammograms or magnetic resonance imaging; 3) preventive surgery to remove breasts, ovaries or fallopian tubes; 4) preventive medications such as tamoxifen or raloxifene.”
Obviously, you should NOT take this tool’s information as the final word in your cancer risk, but it’s sure helpful and makes it a bit easier to understand your individual risk. I found it very beneficial when thinking about my risk of ovarian cancer. I am BRCA 2 positive and honestly didn’t know too much about the correlation between BRCA 2 and ovarian cancer. I know that my mother had a prophylactic oopherectomy at age 58, but I had no idea when I should start thinking about my own preventative surgery. Obviously I’d wait until after I have kids, but at what age would I be pushing the envelope?
The above screencap shows my results. The age minimum is 25 but I am only 22, so I just went with it and pretended I had my mastectomy at 25. I’m breathing a small sigh of relief seeing those numbers. While I still plan to be diligent about screening starting around age 25, at least I can enjoy knowing that my ovarian cancer risk is much lower than what my breast cancer risk would have been had I not done the prophylactic mastectomy.
This tool was brought to my attention at a recent FORCE meeting in Santa Monica. It was a great meeting–the Young Women’s group met for the first time. And I got to see Trisha as well as a few of my blog readers! Incase you’re all wondering, Trisha looks fantastic.
On Thursday I have my two-month post-op appointment with Dr. Festekjian. Details to come, but for now–off to work!
Hi friends! I hope you all had a great holiday, whatever you celebrate. Over here at the law firm of Horn, Horn & Horn, we celebrate Hanukkah and Christmas.
It’s been more than a month since my implant exchange surgery, and I am much happier with how the implants have settled in. There is still some difference in nipple height, but I think the breasts have evened out in size and look much more similar.
People have asked me what size I am now. The answer? 14.2 cm 800 cc–duh, obviously.
Don’t worry. I get it. Unless you’re Dr. Festekjian, that means nothing to you. It doesn’t really mean much to me, either. While Christmas shopping at Target a few weeks ago, I bought a cheap bra on a whim. I tried on three different sizes: 36C, 36D, and 38D. The 38D bra fit the best, so right now that’s my size, but I will go to a professional to be fitted soon. (And FINALLY use the Victoria’s Secret gift card my dear friend Anna gave me right after my mastectomy–whoohoo!)
I’ve been dressing up a lot and I love it. If you know me offline, you know that I prefer comfort over style. My weekend uniform consists of yoga pants, a tank top, and sneakers. Sometimes I shake things up with a sweatshirt if I’m feeling daring (or cold). But since I have these brand spankin’ new boobs, I’ve been looking for an opportunity to show them off! Luckily, this holiday season did not let me down.
At the beginning of December, I went to Vegas for my sorority sister Cami’s bachelorette party. My favorite thing about going anywhere with sorority sisters is that we all share clothes. On Friday night, I wore one of Jennifer’s dresses and I actually had CLEAVAGE for the first time since March! Sorry, Bryce.
The next weekend was my company’s holiday party at the SLS Hotel in Beverly Hills. It was amazing. There were EEL TACOS. EEL FREAKIN’ TACOS. I used that magical Forever 21 gift card to buy a cute strapless dress for the party, and I even got to wear my giant heels because Bryce is 9 1/2 feet tall!
“Hey Bryce, how’s the weather up there?”
AND THEN…Cami and her fiance Nick got married this past Saturday! Their wedding was at the Balboa Bay Club in Newport Beach. It was a small, intimate ceremony. Cami looked beautiful! Nick is a lucky man.
I wore the pink dress I wore to my graduation dinner in May. The only difference was that this time I had two boobs! Last time I had one tissue expander and one falsie. I think I prefer the two boobs.
Sorority sisters! From left to right: Jennifer, Marissa, Cami, Danielle, Rachel, Nora
Clearly, I’ve come a long way in my crazy mastectomy journey. But it’s not over yet. I like my implants now. I think they are a good size and they look and feel natural. However, I’m not in love with them.
Should I go back to Dr. Festekjian and ask him to do more work on them? Maybe. Probably. But even then, I won’t be IN LOVE with them. Because I am not IN LOVE with the rest of my body! Until I am completely happy with how everything else looks, I’ll never be 100% satisfied with my implants.
So 2013 is going to be about changing my body the difficult way…without plastic. I’ve struggled with my weight all my life. (Literally, all my life. I learned over Christmas that I weighed over NINE POUNDS when I was born. HOLY SHIT.) Anyway, 2012 was one of those struggle times because of the mastectomy. Now it’s time to get back into shape.
“Stop right now, ma’am! Put the spoon down and back away slowly.”
Here are some of my goals for the new year:
Develop some upper body strength. If my arms look toned, my implants will look better. I am going to keep seeing my physical therapist Jenni to learn how to do this safely.
Get my abs back. Believe it or not, for the first half of high school, my stomach was really toned. I did Pilates all the time and it really worked! Then, for whatever reason, I stopped. And on came the flab.
Get back into spinning. It’s my favorite workout, because it’s effective, and everyone looks like shit afterwards. I know that sounds harsh, but I’m a sweater; no, not a cardigan–someone who sweats a LOT. I hate working out at the gym next to girls with immaculate hair and makeup who look amazing the entire time. NO ONE looks good after 45 minutes on the stationary bike at a spin class.
In addition to spinning, I want to try more cardio. I am going to join a local gym, probably the YMCA, and I plan to take advantage of the classes offered. Dance Aerobics and Zumba both sound pretty fun to me.
Eat out less and cook more (good for the waistline and the wallet!). I need to learn how to cook and be more adventurous with my meals. A few weeks ago, a friend made Bryce and me enchiladas for dinner. He put spinach and mushrooms in mine because I’m a vegetarian. They were DELICIOUS. I would have never thought to put spinach in an enchilada…it was life-changing
Buy a castle.
Appear on Jeopardy.
I’m not sure yet how I am going to measure my success. My friend at work, Garineh, had a similar New Year’s resolution for 2012. She wrote a blog post on eHow with tips for keeping a resolution. I’ll develop my actual numerical goals based on some of her advice.
One thing is for sure: once I meet my goals, I will have Michelle Obama’s arms, Gwen Stefani’s abs, Wolfgang Puck’s skills, and Warren Buffett’s wealth. (Yeah, that’s how often I eat out now and how much I plan to win on Jeopardy!) Oh and this castle.
What are your goals/resolutions for 2013? Happy new year, everyone!
It’s been exactly three weeks since the “big unveiling” after my implant exchange surgery. You’ll remember that I was less than pleased with what I saw in the mirror: my left nipple seemed to be about twelve feet higher than my right nipple, and all together the left breast appeared much smaller and tighter. I never thought I’d end up with a rack like Pam Anderson’s after the surgery, but I also didn’t think I’d end up looking like a little kid playing dress up with socks and tissues in her mommy’s old bra.
Hey…I’m a vegetarian too…maybe my boobs WILL end up looking like Pam’s after all!
Dr. Festekjian told me to give it time to settle, even going so far as to suggest that I STOP thinking about my breasts for a while. Fat chance, Dr. Festekjian.
Well I have to give the man credit–he was right. The left breast has settled a lot, looking rounder and less tight, and the nipples are also much more even. Dr. Festekjian said to wait two months, but it’s not even one month after the surgery and I can already see a big difference!
I guess he does know a thing or two about plastic surgery. He’s more than a pretty face, you know.
At my post-op appointment after the implant exchange surgery, he wrote me a prescription for physical therapy. I researched offices in the area that accept my insurance and landed on a place nearby called Women’s Physical Therapy.
In addition to standard sessions with physical therapists, Women’s Physical Therapy offers massage therapy, Pilates and yoga. They specialize in breast cancer rehabilitation, including post-reconstruction.
My first appointment was Tuesday, December 4. I met with a PT named Jenni. As it was an introductory session, we spent a fair amount of time discussing my mastectomy, complications, and ultimately reconstruction, as well as my goals (get strong in a healthy, safe way) and current exercise plan. Then she took some baseline measurements and stretched me out. The stretching was almost like an upper-body massage; she did a lot of kneading. Knowing that my left implant needs to drop and settle, she showed me stretches I can do at home to help.
Jenni then assigned me some resistance band exercises to work my triceps, biceps and shoulders. I’m supposed to do them every night, and right now they are so simple (just one set of 10 reps) that it takes less than five minutes.
I’ve met with Jenni twice, and I also had an appointment with the Pilates instructor, AnnaLisa. In high school I did mat Pilates DVDs all the time. (Side note: if you are ever in the market for a Pilates DVD, pick an Ana Caban series. AVOID MARI WINSOR LIKE THE PLAGUE SHE IS SO ANNOYING.) This Pilates session was NOTHING like the Pilates I remember! Nope…there was no Seal, no Corkscrew…not even a measly Roll-Up!
Instead AnnaLisa had me focus on very small movements using my muscles in ways I’ve never tried. There was no cardio involved, yet I felt like I did get some sort of a workout. It wasn’t easy! Who knew drawing circles in the air with my elbows could be so tiring? Oy, I was exhausted after!
After my sessions I’ve felt a bit sore, but it’s not alarmingly painful. It’s almost more of a pleasant indicator that the sessions are working and that my upper body muscles are being stretched out and strengthened just a little bit each day.
I have another session with a physical therapist on Friday, and then a few more next week. My schedule is spotty since I signed up with the office so late in the year and I can only stop by in the early morning or late afternoon. Hopefully I’ll be able to set up a steady plan for 2013.
Speaking of 2013, what’s everyone doing for New Year’s and the holidays? Bryce and I are going up to Yosemite for Christmas, where we’ll see my parents and my cousin Justin. Then we’ll be celebrating New Year’s in Redondo Beach. But before all that there’s my company holiday party this Friday night. I stumbled upon a Forever 21 gift card in my wallet (lucky find), so I’m going to treat myself to a new dress for the party–my first since the implant exchange surgery!
Well, I’m signing off. It’s bed time! Now if I could just pry this giant sleeping baby off of my lap…
I’m sorry Bryce, I had to do it. You just look too cute in that onesie.
This morning I woke up to a lovely email informing me that someone out there nominated me for a Grammy award Rookie of the Year award in the WEGO Health Activist Awards! The award is for “a Health Activist who came on the scene in 2012 but has inspired the entire community.” Well…my blog emerged onto the Interwebz scene in March 2012, so that part’s definitely right–and hopefully I’ve inspired you all a teensy little bit, too!
By clicking the link below and completing the very short form (you just need to enter your email), you can “endorse me” for the award and share your endorsement on Twitter or Facebook.