Monday, November 14, 2011

This Ribbons for You

The timing was pretty ironic. I was selected to do a review on a book about a women's journey through breast cancer and then found out my grandmother was going in for a biopsy.

She went in for the biopsy today and they warned her that they may need to do a lumpectomy or mastectomy. After the biopsy they immediately checked and found it was cancerous. So they did the mastectomy.

I cried. That may sound like the "duh" statement of the day but since I refused to even worry about this until I knew there was something to worry about I just hadn't cried at all because why cry over what could be completely benign. But they worked fast.

They got her in, did the biopsy and found the mass was malignant so immediately removed the breast. I guess I had to cry fast because there was no real time to build up to it. It's like.. there may be a problem, yes it's a problem, all better.

That's a good thing though. At least that's what I told my mom who called me sobbing to update me. I didn't cry on the phone with her because Lord knows my mom doesn't need any encouragement when it comes to tears but once I hung up I let it go.

I know grandma's ok. They caught the cancer and took it out and now it's a matter or some treatment but I worry. I get so upset when my boobs look uneven. How would I feel if one was gone? Are they going to replace it? Does she even care?

The worst part was that the staff didn't tell her they went ahead and did the mastectomy. My mom had to tell her when she went up to the room and it was then my grandmother felt her chest and said "oh". Apparently she seems to be taking it very well but who knows how she'll fair once she's alone and doesn't feel like she has to be strong for anyone else.

I think about my own boobs. My ta'tas, love lumps, whatever you want to call them. Sure they aren't perky and firm like they were a few pregnancies ago but I still love them and I know my husband does. I watched them grow all my life cheering them on and celebrating with each increasing cup. Cursing them when they wouldn't fit in a blouse, touching them when I was teasing my husband, using them to feed my children. It's a life long relationship. And ultimately I love them. They could honestly be the death of me but I love them and I don't know how I would feel if I had to lose one or both.

I'd like to think I'd be strong but who can bare to lose a piece of themselves... especially a peice that in many ways defines you as a woman.

So for all the women who have fought breast cancer and won or loss today you are all in my thoughts. This ribbon is for you.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Last of the 20s

Tonight is officially the last night of my 20s. I have mixed feelings about my passage into my 30s.

There's a part of me that can't believe I'm going to be 30. This is the same part of me that sucks in my stomach and visualizes my boobs being perky and firm like they were 10 years ago. This part of me looks in the mirror and thinks "I don't look 30" as I search for gray hairs to pluck. Sure there's only been 5 but that's 5 I ripped out on sight!

The other part of me thinks "Who cares?" I have a husband who loves me, beautiful kids, the ability to stay home with my family while working towards my goals or taking the time to make goals. Who cares if I can't say I'm in my 20s anymore?

James makes jokes saying I'm becoming an old lady and I guess I am day by day. But since he's already and old man who cares. He's been going gray since I met him so maybe we'll have just one more thing in common. He's probably more upset about not being able to say he has a wife in her twenties then I am to have to say I'm the big three-zero.

So let's see how tomorrow goes. I can't do anything about turning thirty but I can enjoy my thirties so much I will mourn the loss of my 30s even more then I did the loss of my 20s.