My friends wanted to come and see me but I didn't want them to. I didn't want anyone to see me that weak. I looked like nothing. When I thought about washing my hair for the first time, I asked my mother and Marc to come and help. We set up a chair in the bathroom to do it like in a hair salon. We tried awkwardly to wash my hair. Then my mother dried it. That did me good.

We only did it once that way. Afterwards I managed to wash my hair alone. It took time but I did it. One time, I went to the hair salon to cut my hair but mostly because I knew they will wash my hair first so I didn’t have to do it myself.

I was happy on one hand to spend my days in my bubble resting. I watched TV like when I was little. My mother cooked, did the cleaning, the laundry. My parents did the grocery shopping. I'd fallen back into childhood in a way — but with a big trauma I wasn't aware of in the moment.

My sisters and their families — husbands and children — came to visit a few days later. I was happy to see my nieces. For them I could make the effort to talk a bit more, pretend to be happy. Their presence didn't bother me — on the contrary, it did me good.

I started seeing my physio — Audrey. From the very first session she managed to modify my posture a little. I didn't know that at the time — but deciding to follow physio sessions and choosing this particular physio was going to change a lot of things in my physical recovery. I waited 2 weeks to get an appointment with her. I took her because she is part of a Breast Cancer Physiotherapy group and also everyone around advised me to go see her. I see her twice a week. It does me a lot of good. She taught me to look at my scar, to clean it, to love it and to talk to it. Sometimes I talk to it, full of gratitude and encouragement in its healing. I know that some people even gave they scar a name or their missing boob one. But my missing boob and I are not too familiar for now to call her by a name.

I found the person I could ask my medical questions to, calm my doubts, and see the positive. Then I do exercises which make me more and more mobile and make me realise I'm capable of doing more things than I thought.

I felt disgusting, incapable, powerless. It was very complicated. I'd had to go to the hospital nurses to have my drain removed — it was a long wire in my body that drained bad blood. Something like that. I went there. Very kind. I told them I hadn't yet dared look at my scar. They suggested we look at it together. I didn't dare. I think I was even crying. One nurse looked at it. She cleaned it. She said it was very beautiful. That didn't make me want to look at it any more, for all that. Nurses were really nice. I saw them few times. They remembered my name everytime.

I no longer remember when I finally took the step and looked. I think I'd given myself a sort of deadline — 'today I look'. I think I cried when I saw it. I looked but not too much. At first I didn't dare touch it — so I cleaned it with a toilet glove. Little by little, seeing Audrey touch my scar, my brain started to understand my new body, to locate things and also that I could touch it.

I remember after my post-op appointment with Dr. Martin, which went well, I had to go and get my silicone prosthesis. At the pharmacy they told me it was better to wear one — so as not to unbalance myself, even if I didn't have much breast. At first, I didn’t want to wear one. I felt like it will be bothering more than anything else. But then, the pharmacist told me that for some people, the body needs to balance itself so if I don’t wear a prothesis, my remaining breast might go towards the center of my body to find its balance. This scared me. I don’t want to look like an alien with one boob in the middle. So I said YES, I want a prothesis please.

The pharmacist had struggled to find the right prosthesis to replace my breast. They had nothing as small. But I was happy to see there were still some brands that made things like special bras or swimsuits specifically for people who no longer had any breast at all. I felt like I'd arrived at a conquered land. It was a good feeling in this sea of bad news. I had to spend an hour in the pharmacy to find the right prosthesis and good support items to accommodate my prosthesis. We tried every possible combinaison so that the prothesis’ size will be similar to my other breast. I paid a lot for these items.

I wondered how some people managed to afford it. I found out later that there are associations that give items that patients no longer use. I would have liked to know at that moment. But I can't complain because I could afford it myself.

I remember before my appointment with Dr. Martin I met a patient in the waiting room who had a cushion heart on her. The cushion is given by the nurse before a breast surgery for breast cancer. I decided to talk to her because I imagined we'd experienced more or less the same thing. She'd had her operation a week before me. She was about ten years older. A single mother with a daughter of about 10, I think. She spoke a lot to me and told me she'd had difficulty talking to people who hadn't had breast cancer. We shared our daily life, our difficulties which were similar. That did me a lot of good to talk to her. It was the first time I talked about my difficulties with another patient. We understood each other even though we just met. We talked about the difficulty of getting up in the morning without being able to stretch, of cutting your nails! And other small everyday things. She had a bun and I admired her because she'd done it entirely alone. I asked her how she'd managed — for me it was an exploit. She explained her technique which consists of doing it lying down. I think I tried once but it was complicated.

She told me that after her appointment with Dr Martin she had her first appointment with Audrey, my physio. I told her she was great. I've seen her from time to time at the physio's — it makes me happy. I don't have her contact details but when we see each other at the practice, we ask about each other's news. The last time I saw her, she didn't look great — she was about to start chemo, she'd told me it was complicated. I sent her some encouragement. The chemo is almost finished for her. I don't know much more.

Every time we see each other, it’s like seeing an old friend because of when we met.

My days became a little more lively. I had some appointments and the rest of the time I tried to occupy my days as best I could. At the beginning, not much. But after a few weeks of physio, I felt I had more energy. I gained more and more confidence in myself. We tried to do a few outings with my parents and Marc. My sister Noémie came to see me and we had lunch together. Very quickly I wanted to try driving again. I gave myself the objective of being able to drive to take Marc and the cats to Deauville for our wedding anniversary — and also because I was going to start work again soon, so I wanted to take advantage of my time off. As soon as I gave myself that objective, I saw progress also with Audrey. I was doing stretches three times a day diligently. It seemed to me I noticed progress each time I did my exercises.

I also started writing. But I stopped because I had the impression of repeating myself. I regret it a little — but maybe I wasn't ready at that moment. Not ready to digest all that. To face it. But today I'm not apprehensive — I'm not afraid to relive these moments and to share them. I see them as a memory and it allows me to see my progression, to keep my emotions and sensations in this notebook.

I was writing my gratitude anyway. Almost every day — I was writing three things I was grateful for. I'd already started doing this few years ago, during a period when things weren't going very well. It allowed me to stay positive. I found it worked fairly well.