The 7 Stages of Grief For the Loss of Breasts- I took the liberty to add a few to the traditional 5

After hearing the news that the girls are going to have to come out, my world was turned upside down. I was upset, confused, and just plain sad. Major props to my hallmates and friends for putting up with me that day when I came back. It was a huge help. Gotta give my parents credit too for listening to my tirades. So without further ado,

The 7 Stages of Grief For the loss of Breasts

1. Denial- "Man in the white coat said what?!" "You have got to be kidding me. Please tell me this is some kind of sick joke and there's a hidden camera crew around here somewhere."  These are both things that ran through my mind when I first heard the news. It's natural to not want to believe the news. It's the absolute last thing I expected to hear. I spent most of the time immediately after the news in this stage. I couldn't believe it was me saying the words "I need a mastectomy". It finally hit me that this was now reality and I can't say it was fun.
2. Dazed Confusion- Once the reality of the situation hit me, the shock still hadn't worn off. I was aware that the surgery was going to happen and continued to go about my day, but it was quite the out-of-body experience. My body was in class, but my mind was on the news I had just been given. I wasn't too aware or alert to what was going on around me. This continued until I had completed my responsibilities for the day and had time to collect my thoughts.
3. Anger- Don't worry, any and all anger was appropriately channeled toward the psych test I had the next day. But once I did collect my thoughts, I did become upset about why this had happened to me. What had I done to deserve this?! Venting proved to be a pretty successful method to passing this stage.
4. Bargaining- Now the statistics I had been given didn't leave much room for bargaining, but who's to say I couldn't try right? I constantly thought "there has got to be another way to do this". I contemplated the option of simply continuing my screenings as planned, but the more I contemplated the more I knew I couldn't make that choice. I didn't want the mastectomy, but all this continued tossing around of options showed me I had no choice.
5. Depression- Cue the sad music and comfort food. I simply didn't want the mastectomy, but I knew I had no choice. How could I possibly be happy with a surgery I don't even want?! What's the point?! Nothing seems important anymore. As good a job as the next day's psych test did of snapping out of this, encouragement and reminders from loved ones that this was to save my life really helped me to find meaning in the unwanted surgery.
6. Cry, Cry, Cry, Cry and once you've done that cry some more - This is where the emotional teenager in me took over. This seemed to be an accumulation of everything that had crossed my mind and every emotion I felt in the process. I cried about nothing, but at the same time I cried about everything. A good tip I've learned about grieving is to let yourself cry until you can talk about it without tearing up. It really helped clear my mind and think clearly about what was ahead.
7. Acceptance- Now, signing the consent form is probably just the beginning of this stage. It definitely was for me. It was the reality check that this was really going to happen, but it was ok. My plastic surgeon giving me an idea of how I would look more-or-less afterward didn't hurt either.