Radiation Day 4: It’s Okay to Not Be Okay
🌼 Date: Tuesday, April 14, 2026
⚡ Energy: Frustrated
💗 Status: Honest
🤨 Outlook: One Step at a Time
Today was a hard day.
I really did not want to get up early this morning. I was already dressed and ready to go when I remembered I forgot to put my first coat of lotion on for the day.
Instead of getting undressed again, I just tossed the lotion in my purse.
I figured since I have to get undressed and put on two gowns when I get there anyway, I might as well take advantage of the time and the wonderful fluorescent lighting in the dressing room to slather lotion on this completely unrecognizable body staring back at me in the mirror.
Which leads me to an important question.
Why do they even have mirrors in those dressing rooms?
Do they really think we want to stand there and look at our misshapen, scarred bodies?
Mine with one boob and one flapjack?
Yeah… that wasn’t happening today.
I had to turn around with my back to the mirror while I put the lotion on.
And when I finished, I may have thrown the bottle into the locker a little harder than necessary.
Or maybe it just slipped out of my overly moisturized hand.
We may never know.
Thankfully they have that Zen waiting room back there where I could go cool my heels for a bit.
While I was sitting there today, I had a realization.
It’s okay to not be okay.
I don’t have to automatically say “I’m doing great!” every time someone asks how I’m doing.
I don’t have to smile back every time someone gives me that pity smile when they see my bald head.
I don’t have to say thank you every time someone holds the door for me with that look of condolence like I’ve already been handed a death sentence.
And my personal favorite…
When a mother grabs her child and moves them out of my path because they see me walking toward them with a mask on like I’m about to spread some sort of contagious disease.
People mean well.
I know they do.
But there’s a part of this journey that people talk about in a way that makes me want to scream.
You know the one.
“Oh well… at least you’ll get new perky boobs out of the deal!”
Yeah.
It’s not that simple.
What most people don’t realize is that before reconstruction ever happens, there’s this whole in-between stage that nobody really prepares you for.
After surgery they place expanders in your chest.
They’re basically like empty pockets that get slowly filled with fluid week by week.
Little by little they stretch your skin to make room for the implants that will come later.
On paper it sounds simple.
In reality?
It’s tight.
It’s heavy.
It feels like constant pressure.
Every fill appointment stretches your skin a little more and your body has to adjust all over again.
And emotionally… that part is just as strange.
Because this stage isn’t the “before” anymore.
But it’s not the “after” either.
It’s this weird middle place where your body doesn’t quite feel like your own.
You look down and see changes… but it doesn’t feel like you.
You know it’s progress… but it doesn’t feel like healing yet.
I’ve caught myself wondering more than once:
How many times am I supposed to learn to accept a new version of my body?
But here’s the truth I’m learning.
The expanders have a purpose.
They aren’t meant to be comfortable.
They’re meant to prepare the body for what comes next.
They create the space that makes reconstruction possible.
And even though this stage can feel uncomfortable, frustrating, and emotionally exhausting…
It’s still progress.
It’s my body adapting.
It’s my body stretching in ways I never imagined — physically and emotionally.
And if you’re in this stage right now, or heading into it soon…
I want you to know something.
You are not alone in this strange in-between space.
You’re not wrong for feeling disconnected from your own body.
And you’re not weak for having days where you just want to throw the lotion bottle into the locker.
This part of the journey is hard.
But it’s also part of how we get through it.
One appointment.
One stretch.
One day at a time.
💗 Tina –
One Badass Day at a Time
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