Hopefully all the Moms out there had a wonderful Mother's Day. I had to work, but we made the best of the morning by going to church and just being together. What a blessing it is to be called "Mom". I know many who are struggling to have their own children, so I know how much of a gift it truly is.

BREAST CANCER See Pam's Story Her Struggle From Her Husband's Perspective Pam's Last Chemo Treatment E-Mail Pam Spread Word Survival Stories Myths and Facts Cancer Quiz Risk Factors SELF-EXAM How To Do It Diagrams How Do You Check? How Often? ARTICLES: Fitness Center For Patients WEB RESOURCES: Susan. G. Komen Foundation National Alliance Of Breast Cancer Organizations Breast Cancer Info National Breast Cancer Organization National Breast Cancer Coalition

That said, I have to say I don't look much like a mom these days. I have to laugh about it, actually. I was pulling car pool duty after school this week, and as I was rolling up the sidewalk a little girl saw me and said to her mom "he must have broke his leg." I had to smile. I certainly don't blame her. When I think about it, I'm probably a pretty confusing picture to a child. The voice is feminine. My kids call me "mom". But I wear a baseball cap. You can see my hair through it now, but even so, it looks like it's styled in a crew cut. My chest is flat. And I never wear dresses (except on occasion at work). If you were a kid, what would you think?!

You could also say I look like a feeble old man! As my hair is coming back, it's got a lot of white in it. A good description of the color at the moment is "salt and pepper". My hair follicles have no memory of the dark blonde they used to be. So the new grey look I'm sporting adds a few years to my age.

Also, I need exercise, and stretching is good for me, so I never allow anyone to help me when I'm putting my groceries in the back of our minivan. Ever since the surgery, when I reach up to grab the handle to pull the hatch closed, it takes a bit for my arm to completely stretch that far. So picture this: short-grey-haired, baseball cap-wearing, flat-chested, wheelchair-sittin' person with a shaky arm reaching up to close the back of a minivan. Tell me you're not picturing a feeble old man, right? Well, at least it's a feeble old man with spunk enough to put away his own groceries!

Yes, I can laugh at the situation. I know it's temporary. And when I'm all done, I'll actually be better than before! Already I think I like being smaller busted. When you think about it, all the really athletic women have smaller busts. Looking at my small bust line, I'm feeling pretty "buff" at the moment, although I haven't been able to exercise. And because of that, I thought I was getting an extra roll around my middle.

I was changing the dressings on my scars a while back and looked down and saw what I hadn't seen before. I thought in horror that my inactivity and normal appetite were making me fat! Then I thought, with equal horror, maybe I've always been this flabby, but I just couldn't see it because my boobs were in the way! Oh well. At least when I'm cleared to get back to real exercise, I'll be able to see my progress of trying to get the rest of my body into the buff shape that my chest is in!

So I'm not sure what size I'll come back as. I was a double D before. I know, hard to believe. No one could tell because they were always hanging down to my navel. (Whoever thought up underwire support must have just been interested in torturing women because it never worked!) Now that I'll have breasts up where they're supposed to be, I don't know that I even want the C cup I was thinking of. A nice B might do just fine. And if it means fewer times to go in and have the expanders "pumped up", all the better!

I got my first "pump you up" session last week. A needle is inserted directly through the skin into a special port on the expander. It didn't hurt since my skin is still pretty numb. Into each expander went three syringes filled with 60cc each. Yes, that adds up to 180cc per side! As the liquid went in, it felt as if they were putting a brick on my chest. Not a pile of bricks, just one. So, I'm thinking "No problem."

I was told that most women say the two days after expansion are the worst. Being one who uses her arms for everything, just trying to get back into my chair moments after were the worst! Because the expanders are placed beneath the muscle, all the muscles that are attached in any way get stretched. It took a couple of attempts to get back onto my wheelchair because I kept pulling on muscles on my side that I didn't even know I had! But all that moving on the first day probably helped because I barely noticed that anything was different the next day.

So I'm in the process of reclaiming my body. It may seem like a slow process, but when I think about how fast time has gone since my original diagnosis last August, it will be no time before I'm "back" to my "better" self! If my hair doesn't come out of shock and remember what color it used to be, maybe I'll take a reader poll on what color you think I should come back as! But before you get any ideas, purple is not an option!

I'm quite happy to be done with chemo, and so thankful that I don't have to do radiation. If you want to avoid all this, are you getting to know your breasts? I hope you haven't gotten too used to that line, and you're slacking off. Breast cancer is quite treatable, but the earlier the detection the better.

Until next time...

Pam Daale
The Happy Cancer Patient

You can e-mail Pam Daale at Pam_Daale@TheDenverChannel.com.