Granny Pants

It occurred to me yesterday, as I was walking through a lingerie shop with Jim, that he was the man who I used to dress for, in skimpy panties trimmed with lace.

Seventeen years later, we’re shopping together, and I’m holding up cotton underpants and he’s saying, ‘Are you sure they’re big enough?

Janet Pants

To be honest, the ‘lingerie shop’ in question was Target, and we were shopping for post surgery Granny Pants that would fit over my giant abdominal incision.  It is only one of the many concessions I’ve had to make in my wardrobe, and most definitely the least sexy.

For starters, a lot of my clothes will get dirty. Without going into detail – bodies are filled with a lot of fluids and some of it doesn’t stay where it belongs after surgery. I’ll  be swollen, and full of drains, so I need to find items that are blousy and comfortable, and straight out of the closets of the Golden Girls. Specifically Maude’s.

A lovely friend surprised me with two fantastic shirts (X-L, women’s tab sleeve linen blend tunics) that manage to be big and elegant at the same time. Plus, they button up the front. For about four weeks I won’t have the option of wearing anything that goes over my head. And I won't be able to bend over to do up my shoes.

Granny Pants

In my closet, I have the hospital gown that I stole during radiation. It’s the only one that ever fit me, and it’s more like a pin striped wrap around dress than a robe.  I also have a lovely selection of pajama bottoms that I can wear under my tunics, and drop with the pull of a string. Sundresses are probably a better option, and I find that the maternity section has a far better selection than the regular section for regular people who aren't having reconstructive surgery.

With the help of my stylist, I managed to make out quite well yesterday. But there was a point yesterday where I was looking at a pair of shorts that looked as though they might just fit. $24.00! Suddenly it was too much. I was done spending money on clothes I’d be wearing for two weeks that looked like they were hand-me-downs form Honey Boo-Boo’s mother. 

That’s it. I'm done.  I’ve spent way too much time and money over the last two years on post canceritis treatment wigs, compression sleeves, hats, make-up, and clothes -  and I’m going to be off work again for a long time.

We chose a six-pack of granny pants and threw them in the cart.

That’s it.
I’m dressed.

Surgery is tomorrow. 

I'm almost ready for the big day.