At 44, one of my two amazingly sexuallly-sensitive breasts was diagnosed with cancer. After a lumpectomy I hated to have it touched -somehow nerve endings told me it was a pinch no matter what type of touch. I had to teach my partner NOT to touch that one! I still lifted my top (at home) to become the topless waitress with something on top.
Shoot, two years later the left breast was removed because of MORE cancer. And painfully a year later the second one was gone. The right breast turned out not to have cancer – my sacrifice to science.
So now the main entryway to my sexuality was gone. My partner asked me NOT to show the scars on my chest (they were quite hideous in the beginning). So for six years I didn’t take my shirt off while we were together, forcing almost all my friends to look though. We continued to have passionate sexual encounters though.
Finally we moved to a new house with a BIG shower stall. My partner commented on how it could fit two and we ought to try it. I said but you don’t want me to take my shirt off. “Oh that was so long ago and only when the scars were fresh”.
Because we hadn’t talked about it for so long, we were both laboring under the misconception that the other person didn’t want to see or show! Our sex life had continued to be very good (albeit less exciting for me without breasts), but our conversation/communication basically had sucked.
I guess you all can tell I did not do chemotherapy, not even radiation therapy, so did not have to struggle with the issues those treatments bring.
I still miss my breasts but have gotten used to wearing skimpy tops, spaghetti straps and tube tops – things I never could have worn when I had two gorgeous (if I do say so myself) breasts!