Genetics, Shmenetics

So my boobs are hideous, right? I’ve lost fat, but not skin. This equals SAGGING of EPIC PROPORTIONS. Think “tennis ball in a tube sock.” (You: I so did not want or need that visual, kthanx.) Before my surgery, I promised myself that my reward for reaching my goal weight would be plastic surgery. First on my list? Boobs. I don’t want fake ones, I just want them put back into the northern hemisphere of my body.

On Monday I saw my OB/Gyn for my annual visit and we talked about my boobs and the history of breast cancer in my family. The conclusion is that I’m going for genetic counseling and testing for the breast cancer gene. (Specifically, the BRCA test.) If I test positive for a known mutation, I’ve opted for a preventative mastectomy along with reconstruction.

I have no love for my breasts. I find them extraordinarily unattractive and I’ve never forgiven them for failing to nourish my beautiful girl. I don’t consider my breasts to be the seat of my femininity, so I won’t feel like less of a woman when my natural breast tissue is removed. Honestly, I think I’ll be relieved. I don’t obsess or ruminate on THE CANCER and whether or not it’s COMING TO GET ME, but it is sort of a small, dark cloud that hovers in the back of my mind. I don’t want to be ripped away from my husband and my child by some insidious disease that hides in a body part that I don’t even like. I also want Maddie to know whether or not she needs to be extra vigilant with her breast screenings and self-exams as she gets older. I feel like this information is vital to her future health, you know?

If the screening turns out to be negative for known mutations, I don’t think it’ll make much of a difference for me. Physically, it will save me from a mastectomy, of course. But THE CANCER cloud will still hover in the back of my mind and I’ll still stare suspiciously at my reflection sure that my breasts are plotting a war against me.

Please tell me if I look like a jackass.

So I went shopping this morning while Maddie was at school. I had an Old Navy gift card from Christmas and it was burning a hole in my pocket.

Why am I telling you? Because, once again, I need your opinions. I went shopping by myself, so there was no voice of reason to tell me if I looked like a dweeb. I was so happy to fit into size XL clothes and to be able to choose from SO! MANY! THINGS! that I may have gone a little off the rails.

Please take a look at these photos and give it to me straight. The pics are blurry because I had to turn the flash off lest it blind me in the mirror. And as much as I love my Nikon, that thing is a bitch to take self-portraits. So just squint and pretend they’re crisp and in-focus, all right?

I need a remote and a good tripod. Also: fashion sense.

Lame?

Is it lame to write a post about posts that need to be written? Well, lame happens to be my middle name. Only I spell it with a K.

1. I need to write my 6 month post-op post and take pics.

2. I need to write about potty training.

3. I need to write about maybe going back to work.

4. I need to write about the bunny we got.

5. I need to write about my new 3G phone and how much I want to marry it.

6. I need to write about my quest for freelance writing gigs.

7. I need to write about Maddie’s two year well child visit.

Instead of writing any of those posts, I’m wasting time writing nothing at all. Good time management skillz? I haz them!

Updates Galore

1. I still need to link those of you that participated in the Six-Word Memoir writing. I’ll do it this week.

2. Maddie’s home! Maddie’s home! I’m thrilled, of course, but her homecoming wasn’t quite the Hallmark commercial moment I had expected. She was in dire need of a nap and burst into sobs about 2o minutes after getting home. She ignored her father and I in favor of her beloved and sorely missed toys, and then went down for a nap. Against her will, I might add. I’m about to wake her up, so let’s all hope for a happy girl who’s glad to be home.

3. Yesterday I bought myself a new outfit from the junior’s dept at Target. Did you read that? JUNIOR’S DEPT, people. There’s the plus size dept, the women’s dept and the JUNIOR’S DEPT. Granted, I’m the fattest junior ever, but STILL. I’m wearing an XL without any numbers in front of it. I honestly never thought I’d see the day.

4. Maddie’s birthday is on Saturday and her party’s on Sunday afternoon. We’re having at one of those indoor bounce-house places. I really hope Maddie likes it. If not, I still plan on having a blast bouncing around in my outfit from the JUNIOR’S DEPT.

5. I’m thinking about having a crock-pot recipe exchange. I’m a lazy, lazy cook and I’m desperate for new and yummy crock-pot recipes. Later this week, let’s all share our favorite, k? Then we’ll have lots of new ones to try.

6. Thank you for all your comments yesterday. I was so happy to get each and every one of your comments. Even the inappropriate ones. *ahemShellyahem* You lurkers and bad commenters are just as welcome here as the frequent comments… although, if I’m forced to choose, I’m gonna have to go with the inappropriate commenters. Just how I roll.

Olly Olly Oxen Free!

The powers that be have decreed today Delurking Day. So, if you lurk ’round these parts, show a girl some love and leave a comment. I’ll be leaving comments on the many, many blogs on which I lurk. I’m a professional lurker. Seriously.

Apparently, gallstones are not heavy.

I gained six pounds while in the hospital. Gotta love that IV fluid! My surgeon, whom I haven’t seen since I was six weeks post-op, said my progress is “awesome” and he was very impressed that I’ve lost 88 lbs in 5.5 months. How ya like them apples? : )

So, I’m home and doing fine. Surgery went perfectly, and I was discharged at 11:00 that morning. They were all “here’s some pain medicine and there’s the door. Ciao!” I slept almost all day yesterday and then I was up almost all night. I slept this morning and then Gerald and I ran a couple of errands.

As long as I’m hitting the bottle of pain meds every four hours, things are pretty good. I can’t really eat anything, though. I get really nauseous every time I try, so I’m having protein shakes instead.

Maddie’s staying with relatives in Austin and won’t be home until Sunday. Gerald and I hardly know what to do with ourselves. If I’m feeling all right tomorrow we’re going to try for a date… just Gerald, me and my bff vic0din. How romantic, right?

Well, it’s 9:00 and I’m a little loopy from the narc0tics, so I’m headed off to bed. Sleep tight and don’t let the bedbugs bite. Not that you have bedbugs. I know you’re totally clean and bedbug free. Jeez, it’s just an expression. Lay off!

How much do you think gallstones weigh, anyway?

I’m scheduled for my gallbladder removal surgery tomorrow at 7:30 am. That means at the hospital at 5:30, which also means leaving the house by 4:45.

4:45.

In the morning.

Or in the middle of the night, really.

Anyhow, I’ll catch you on the flip side, peeps. Here’s to heavy gallstones and a post-op weight loss!

One Life; Six Words

I was given a fantastic Christmas gift this year. This book is wonderful and thought-provoking. Each six word memoir is multi-faceted. On the surface, you have the story that the words tell you. Below that is the story they don’t tell you. Take, for example, the memoir “cursed with cancer, blessed with friends.” What does that say to you? I see an older woman battling breast cancer. She’s tired and sick and doesn’t want to get out of bed. Her phone rings and it’s her dearest friend on the other end. She’s coming over and can she bring anything special? A half an hour later she arrives with Chunky Monkey ice cream and The First Wives Club on DVD. For a few hours, cancer is forgotten and instead, there’s laughter and ice cream.

In reality, the memoir was written by a 12 year old girl with inoperable, incurable cancer. Quite a different story, indeed.

The first time I read through the book, I read the surface stories. Then, I read it again and tried to imagine the real story underneath. I’ve read the book three times since Christmas, and I find new stories each time I read it. I’ve also written countless six word memoirs of my own:

finally found my happily ever after
motherless daughter mothers daughter; lacks guidance
haven’t shut my mouth in thirty years
sticking foot in mouth since 1976
skinny girl inside is finally outside

It’s your turn. Either in comments or in your own post, tell me some of your six word memoirs. Sum up your life in just six words. It’s easier than you think. (If you do your own post, let me know and I’ll link it.)

Merry Christmas!

I hope your day is filled with joy, love and family.

Also, alcohol. You know, if your day is full of too much family.

Heh heh