Girls Gone Wild: Suburban Style

Amazing things happen to you when you tell your friends and family you have a disease like Breast Cancer. Suddenly, you realize just how much you matter to people and there are no limits to what people will do for you. First, there are flowers and candy, and brownies (both milk and dark chocolate; SCORE!), Edible Arrangements, cards with words of encouragement, donations made in your name, banana bread, Alex & Ani bracelets, meal deliveries, Angel pins, and Holy Water ("Rub it all over your chest!"). One friend offered to shave my bikini line (no thanks!). Some friends offer to rub my back.

And then some want to rub my front.

Yes, it seems that my tumory breast has now become its own little public service announcement. For a girl whose breasts have never gotten a second glance, now they are getting felt up more than a Sophomore on prom night.

So far I have "Gone to Second" with at least 5 of my women friends who have been so shocked and upset by my news that they needed to see and feel a Cancerous tumor. Sure, they have read about "the signs", but seeing and feeling is another story.

It usually goes like this. I share my news. Then we dash into the bathroom together where I lift up my shirt and then we both look in the mirror, comparing the normal boob to the abnormal boob. And then they feel the lumps and say something like "I didn't expect it to feel like that", or "Your right boob is giving me the stink eye. Make it stop!"

(Side note: Does this make me a lesbian?)

Anyway, you can call me a freak, a hippy, a free wheeling, fancy free kinda gal. (I have seen my share of topless beaches), but seriously, in the words of Jerry Seinfeld,  "It's a nipple. A little round circular protuberance. What's the big deal? See everybody's got them. See I got them."  It's no big deal!  For you men reading this, boobs were meant for feeding babies and somewhere along the way they became these sexual objects.  Tsk Tsk!

So this is what goes on in suburbia, or shall I say, "Suboobia".  If this type of behavior continues, I may have to start my own site called "YouBoob". 

Becky Goes Braless

"Take it in stride", she said.

"She" was the technician who I have come to know over the last few years from my yearly mammographies. She knew I was scared and as I walked out that fateful Tuesday, these were her final words to me.

I thought to myself, "Jeez, that's easier said than done, right?" and then I thought even deeper about it. Was there a hidden message in there? I have done the "Making Strides Against Breast Cancer" walk countless times in the past, and now I am being told "Take it in stride".

Is this some sort of hidden message? Was she giving away my diagnosis before the doctor would even call me later that day? I felt like I was part of a secret society now.

Who knows?  God knows, taking each of these steps in stride is NOT easy.

As of this morning, I was joyful, ready for the next step on Friday and sitting in Burger King with my parents and son having coffee. (It's only $1.00 and it's good, don't judge me.) I got pissed off at my bra (even the Genie bra has been uncomfortable lately) so I channeled my deceased Auntie Marie and took that thing off right in the middle of BK. Now, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the Genie Bra, it has no hooks and is much like a sports bra, so it's not as easy to take off in public. I managed and before you know it, that pink baby wormed its way down my legs and sat at my feet. My father was chuckling as he ate his sausage and egg biscuit, my 5 year old was unphased, and my mother had scrambled eggs spewing out of her mouth.  I felt much better now. Today was going to be a great day!

Then the cell phone rang. It was the doctor's office and there had been a change of plans. It turned out the MRI results showed another suspicion in the "axillary area" which would need to be ultrasounded and biopsied tomorrow a.m. Here we go again, I thought. Back to square one. More tests, more waiting, more agita, more wanting to throw up every time the phone rings, more not sleeping, and more pacing.

Sure, I'll just take it in stride. 

I keep telling myself that my agita will go away once I have all the answers and I can handle whatever comes my way. I know this is just another bump in the road and a test to see just how much patience and strength I have. Many people who are in the middle of a diagnosis say that the worst part is the waiting and once they know what they are up against, they can deal with anything.

I would agree with that! This road sure is bumpy. It turns, it twists, and it goes down the majority of the time like a runaway freight train.

This girl is now freed from her shackles and is going Bra Commando. "What's that flapping in the breeze?" you ask. It's Becky Going Braless, once again. And if you can get away with it, I highly recommend it! Just watch out for those speed bumps...

My Left Boob: Taking Matters into My Own Hands

I have been very absent. Have you missed me? A lot has been happening and I thought it was high time I updated my loyal followers.

The short story is, I have Breast Cancer. I found out for sure 11 days ago and when I utter this phrase, I still feel like I am talking about someone else. Unfortunately, it is me, not that I would wish this on someone else, but you get the idea.

I wasn't sure about "going public" with this news, but then I thought my experience might help some other woman out there, even if it's just one, she should know what I am about to say.

How it was discovered
I went for my yearly mammogram in December 2012. It's like my annual Christmas present to myself. At the time, I had just started noticing a dimple on the left side of my left breast and I almost thought I felt a lump too, but thought I was imagining things. You see, as a 45 year old who has nursed 2 kids, I no longer knew my boobies. They had become utter strangers to me. They felt different and I never really knew what was a "lump" or what was just a temporary something else. (I'm kind of shaking as I type this and I feel my blood pressure rising but I need to get through this, all of it.) Long story short, I told the technician who didn't seem concerned and just did her job; that is, squeeze the shit out of my 34A sized fried egg into a vice. I received a call the same day to come back and do a "retake" because the side I had questioned myself, was also not looking normal. They did not scare me, just "come back because the picture isn't good enough."  So, I mildly freaked out and went for the retake. This time, the pictures looked just fine and I was advised to come back in one year, that would be December  2013.

The New Year came and went  but the crease and lump did not. I would stare at myself and think, "Well, I'm getting older, things are getting saggier. Maybe that is why there is a crease." But why wouldn't the other boob follow suit? That one was not showing the same signs.

And then I'd be watching T.V. and find myself touching the lump, over and over again. "Is it really there?" I'd ask myself. I thought I was going nuts and I rubbed that lump so much, I thought I created it! Subconsciously, I could have been scared out of my mind and was paralyzed by it. I was also  having occasional pain in my breast and arm pits. And in the mean time, I spent time with my West Coast sister in-law who had been diagnosed with Breast Cancer less than 2 years ago. She calmly said, "If something doesn't feel or look right, just get it checked to give you peace of mind".

I finally had my annual physical in early April. I mentioned the crease/lump to my primary care physician (who doesn't normally do a breast exam on me) and immediately he said to contact my OB.

I made an appointment with her asap. Upon examination, she ordered an ultrasound. I went for the ultrasound and an exaggerated mammogram on a Tuesday. I then had to take the kids to the dentist. At 5pm I walked in the house and my phone was ringing. You guessed it. My doctor was on the line telling me there was a "suspicious mass near my chest wall". She ordered a biopsy and immediately gave me a list of breast surgeons.

I knew right then it was Cancer. I woke up during the night sobbing and all I could say to my husband was, "I'm terrified".

The next 3 weeks were filled (and still are) with nothing but fear, anxiety and sheer terror. Two areas had been biopsied and both tested positive for Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. I am scheduled for a lumpectomy and sentinel node biopsy this Friday and we will know more soon about the course of treatment. In the mean time, the kids still need to be fed and driven around and life goes on. I am putting my best foot forward but I'm not gonna lie, it's like being on an elevator to Hell sometimes!

I have so much more to say and hope to keep this topic going. There are several morals to this story:

1. Touch yourself as often as you want
2. Trust your gut. It will never, EVER betray you. I listened to mine and I am so thankful I did.
3. Take care of yourself! Yes, you, the one who is always taking care of everyone else or is afraid to go to the doctor. Get your yearly PAP, Mammogram, Colonoscopy, whatever it is you are supposed to do. Just friggin do it.

I am extremely blessed to have a wonderful husband, incredible parents, and a huge network of family, friends, and neighbors to help me through this. I am not sure where the road ahead is leading but I am grateful that I do not have to travel it alone. 

I've Come a Long Way Baby

So, my kids like to draw pictures of their mother.
Here I am, in their eyes. I am calling this, the Evolution of Woman.

The 9 year old's version

I start out with big lips, big head, short skirt. I am holding a frying pan and, as usual,
 I am in the kitchen, or as I like to call it, my cubicle.
 

 The 5 year old's version 

I have a penis and my own broccoli tree.

Kid's a genius.



LOVE

 

Some people hate Valentine's Day. They might feel left out of all the romance and hoopla if they don't technically have someone special in their lives. I'm here to make you feel better about this holiday, no matter what your situation might be.

First of all, Valentine's Day is stereotypically a money making day. The restaurants and florists completely over charge you. Men are guilted into buying expensive jewelry for the women in their lives and kids are just happy to get more candy. If you've taken a walk down the Valentine's aisle in any store you will realize that V-Day is the new Halloween. There is no shortage of crappy, overpriced toys.  Who doesn't love a metal lip shaped tin filled with 3 Palmer  chocolates?  And nothing screams LOVE more than a Star Wars Pez dispenser!

What does Cupid think of all this? I dunno. I personally ignore all the reasons NOT to like Valentine's Day and try to love it for what it's really about. LOVE.

Let's be honest here. We all have SOME form of love in our lives. It doesn't have to be in the traditional, romantic sense. Love is everywhere and I think the world needs more of it so celebrate today, please. Whether it is the love of your children, pets, your friends and family, co-workers, the nice girl at the bakery who gives you an extra brownie, or the love of a nurse helping you today. Bring it on! Show them some love and gratitude for all they do for you.

Chocolate, Love, Gratitude. Every day should be V-Day, right?

Happy Valentine's Day to you all!

A Very BootyLicious Superbowl

I'm writing this while the Superbowl people are waiting for the lights to come back on. For those of you who don't know me, I don't give 2 farts about football, but I make it a point to watch the National Anthem and the half time show.  Unfortunately, I had the wrong channel on and completely missed the anthem because I was busy cutting up strawberries that were going bad and I hate wasting fruit.

Let's cut to the half-time show. My 9 year old and I were playing Scrabble on the Nook. Then it started. Just as I expected, half naked Beyonce with her gal pals.  Now,  being a woman, I don't really know if my opinion counts for anything, but I am truly sick of watching women doing strip teases on national television. If you are going to be half naked, then you should be in a "Gentlemen's Club" where there are anything but gentlemen.

I know that some people think that scantily clad girls singing and dancing in stilettos qualifies as "entertainment", and this has been going on for years. I guess I can blame  Madonna for starting it, Brittany for copying it, and the rest of them for perpetuating it. Maybe I'm too old for this sh*t, but I think that a half time show should have a broad appeal and be somewhat family friendly. If I could pick the performer? Probably a combination of Michael Buble, The Who, Tim and Faith and Toby Keith.  And if John Denver was alive....

My question to Beyonce is, WHY? She is a mother of a baby girl (a future impressionable young child/tween/woman). Clearly, she can sing and dance so why does she have to keep performing like there is a pole up there? Can't anyone rely on their true talent? I know it seems I am singling her out and I'm sorry for that. She is just one of so many female performers who bring down the rest of their sisterhood every time they bump and grind on stage.

I know her performance might seem tame to some of you, but have you sat with young children while watching a show like this one? Do you know how many wacky words I was trying to come up with on the Nook so that my son wouldn't watch her "performance"? TENZ and GROK were part of my misfires and kept the boy distracted.

The strange thing is, he never commented on her attire. Do boys think this is normal? He sees how his mother dresses at home, so clearly he must be thinking something. But I didn't want to bring up the elephant in the room and just let it go. I know it's part of our culture but that doesn't mean I have to agree with it or like it. It also means that I don't have to accept it.  Perhaps I should have blindfolded him and sent him to bed. If it's not one thing, it's another though. The Victoria Secret commercials are even worse.  And how do these women feel being on display so very naked?

The whole notion that "sex sells" bothers me, especially as a woman and a mother. When these behaviors are just normal to everyone, then we have a real problem.  I do think that so many have become desensitized to the point that they just roll their eyes during these performances.

And for the record, I am not a prude.

After reading all the Tweets and Facebook posts about the halftime show, I get the sense that men are like, "Whatever. Just put the game back on."  You got it dude. The lights are back on, Beyonce is gone and this mother is going to bed.

MacGyver, Maxi-pads, and Marketing

Getting out the door in the morning is always an accomplishment. The kids are mostly on auto pilot but they still need some prodding.  Some days I wish I had the face of Nanny McPhee, pre 5 wishes, just to freak them out a little. 

 

When we finally make it to the driveway, I am hopeful that we are in the final stretch and we will reach our destination on time without me screaming or having to spit clean some one's face.  As much as you prepare for the unexpected though, some crisis will loom and you will be left to your own devices.

I am speaking of the frozen door lock.  The kind where no matter how hard you pull it up with your unmittened, frozen fingers, it's just plain stuck. Well, it happened last week and thankfully, the other car doors were OK so both kids climbed in on one side and we were only slightly late for school.



He's cute but could he get me out of this pickle?

So, I did what any sane mother would do. I pulled a maxi pad out of my glove compartment. (No, it was a new one, eww for even thinking it!)   I peeled off the backing and voila, I was ready to tackle my stubborn lock.

Maxine at work

I wrapped that sticky, Target brand Super with Front and Back Channels around that lock and BINGO, I was in business!  I grabbed hold of the frozen lock, and yanked that baby up. When my 5 year old asked me what it was, I just said "These are Lady products" and he dropped it. When my 9 year old asked, I told him, "Remember that thing that women get each month we talked about? Well, the thing they use, yeah, that." And he just gives me his smirk like he's heard enough. 

What's in your glove compartment? Flashlight? Car manual? Wet wipes? Frozen gummy snacks?  Pistol? Vodka?

Well, my dear women and men, you might want to add a Super Long Maxine to the mix because she just might save your ass on a cold winter morning.  And if the Pad People are smart, they should start marketing Lady's Days products in the Car Care aisle!

Call it the I-PadLock.