A Beautiful Pink Safety Vest

“Each day comes bearing its own gifts. Untie the ribbons.” — Ruth Ann Schabacker

“At the end of the day, the goals are simple: safety and security.”

– Jodi Rell

Perhaps I’m just an adult baby.

If so, I figure I will give up my blankie sooner or later. So, later it is. I figure I’m one step ahead because I haven’t resorted to sucking my thumb.

I’m a breast cancer survivor, as the ribbons only give you a glimpse. I’m grateful to be cancer-free, yet the journey will never be over, unfortunately. That’s why it’s called a journey.

It’s been a hard pill to swallow that my life is forever changed. I went into treatment with a strong mindset that I would be brave and come out of this stronger.

On some levels, I am stronger. However, on others, I’m still in the fight against breast cancer mode and growing into the person I’m supposed to be, which can be scary.

I have to fight the demons in my mind who criticize my appearance, cut me down, and continuously try to convince me I’m less of a woman. Unfortunately, this occurs relatively often.

I’m left with horrific scars, both internally and externally. I suffer from neuropathy in my hands, arms, feet, and legs. My breasts are forever gone with cancer. On the day of my surgery, a part of me died.

My surgery was very traumatic. My right lung collapsed from anesthesia during surgery. It took hours for me to come out of recovery. I’m honestly lucky to be alive! I was on oxygen until the doctors discovered my collapsed lung over thirty-six hours later.

I was rushed in for an emergency procedure to restore my lung. Most of the experience has become much of a blur, but the wounds run deep.

“Healing takes courage, and we all have courage, even if we have to dig a little to find it.”

– Tori Amos

Life is beautiful. My world surrounds me in pink, including my blankie.

Comfort

My blanket goes everywhere with me. I spend the night with my daughter at her house often because I babysit for my grandson. My daughter gets off work from her bartending job right along with all her drunk clients. Therefore, I prefer to stay at her house because I don’t want to be on the road driving that late at night.

I’m grateful for our sleepovers. I’m also thankful for how comfy my blanket is. It’s the perfect weight, texture, and color. I can tuck it under my left arm if needed. I haven’t been able to lay on my left side since my surgery. Those days are long gone.

Even sleeping on my right side is a challenge. I hope the back of my head doesn’t start to get flat like a newborn!

Security

My blanket provides me with much protection. When you’re recovering from an illness, your blanket becomes your best friend. Maybe mine has become the parts of me that are missing.

My confidence in my appearance takes a great deal of work daily. I was thin before breast cancer. I’ve gained weight from this ordeal, and maybe that too is a security blanket, in and of itself. So, when I now look in the mirror, I have to say positive affirmations, mantras, prayers or recite scriptures intentionally.

Looking in the mirror is a challenge. Some days are easier than others. I am disabled from this cancer. It’s not an easy thing to accept.

My life

Side note, I wish I would have bought two of these cheap, perfect-in-every-way blankets.

“Be someone’s security blanket when theirs is in the wash.”

– Richelle E. Goodrich

Nonetheless, my life, for the most part, is beautiful. I like to surround myself with people and things that bring me joy.

My blanket has been closer to me than anyone or thing. It has wiped many tears away. It covers my body when I can’t bear to look. My blanket is a security blanket, and I’m not afraid to admit it.

It protects me in this fallen world. When my breast cancer treatments and surgeries were over, the pandemic hit. I’m still in need of another surgery which I’m not up for yet.

Therefore, my blankie will not be retiring anytime soon. The way I look at it – we are a team, and we’re in this for the long haul.

My life is beautiful.

My life is comfortable.

My life is safe and full of love.

As long as my blankie is in the same house as me, I’m good. Do you have a favorite item that brings you much comfort, or might even be a bandage like my blankie?

Thank you, Nancy Blackman, for your thought-provoking and healing publication and prompt:

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