konfessions of the Koog

When Mrs. Koog got the breast cancer diagnosis, she decided her course of treatment would be double mastectomy with autologous reconstruction. Since they couldn't do the surgery in one procedure due to surgical suite availability for the duration of the ~20 hour surgery, it was done in 2 parts. Double mastectomy and implants for a while then the autologous reconstruction a few months later. While Mrs. Koog looked amazing with her new bubbies, they were aggressive. Like Real Housewives aggressive. That look is really not Mrs. K's jam. Plus, she had many nightmares of puncturing those babies while she did one of her less glamorous chores like chainsawing trees or digging ditches. Suffice it to say, she wanted them out and her own tissue in. The plastic surgeon she sees is amazing. And very handsome. And he looks like he is 14. Anyway, he could not stop admiring his handiwork at every appointment. It was almost creepy...almost. He was very honest about the surgery and the rec...

(Disclaimer: My thoughts are scattered these days. Trying to put together a coherent narrative is hard. Please be kind with any criticism of my rambling. These are my thoughts and feelings as I’m experiencing them in real-time.) I feel like I’m caught in a rip current of sadness and grief. It’s a funny thing, grief. It’s like an insidious wave of water just waiting to pull me from safety and stability. Lately, everything has become a trigger. EVERYTHING. Songs, leftovers in the fridge, memories, pictures, driving, soccer games, groceries…like I said, everything. We spent last weekend driving to and from upstate NY to return Momma-Koog home after watching the boys for us the prior weekend. I drove E-Koog, Mrs. Koog and Momma-Koog last Friday night. B-Koog, the newly minted Leader of his Scout Patrol, was at a Camporee last weekend. Anyway, we picked up E-Koog from school at lunchtime and got on the road for the 7 hour ride to the 518. About 25 miles into the drive, I bega...