I’m already starting not to recognize myself. I stare at myself in the mirror – the semi-filled expanders sitting where my breasts used to be; the subcutaneous port implant above my left “breast,” with a line leading up to some veins in my neck; the new scars swirling all around my upper body ; the chopped off hair; the pale skin, since tanning salons are out of the question at this point; the ever-decreasing muscle tone from not going to the gym in six weeks; and the face that now goes days without makeup – and it takes a moment to realize that this person is me. My “good” days are the ones where, by some miracle, I don’t walk past a mirror … but today is not a good day. Today is a day with multiple appointments outside the house, which required getting ready, which required looking at myself for more than a brief moment … today reminds me yet again that I have a “new normal,” both physically and psychologically. I don’t like it.