Do Boobs Have a Bucket List?

"Don't  it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone..."

This year, I made only one New Year's resolution.  It was to stop being a chicken and go through with a prophylactic mastectomy.  But, while I swore this was the year, I'm not always good at the follow through.  (Actually, I suck at it.  We've been in my house for 10 years and still have many blank walls.  But I have ideas!)  Anyway, my plan was to get the ball rolling and get ready to "part ways".  

Spring came and I waited for my semi annual breast surgeon appointment so I could start moving (at a snail's pace) toward surgery.  Then my annual MRI showed changes and I had to have a (another) biopsy.  Thank God (!) nothing malignant.  This time.  But it lit the fuse for me.  I kept thinking that if I had to have chemo because I hadn't done this two years ago, I'd be so angry with myself...besides everything else.  So, I spent June sore and meeting with surgeons. Planning surgery for the fall and knowing that this was my last summer with my girls.

I was never one to spend that much time thinking about my breasts.  As a tomboy, I was annoyed by their appearance in 6th grade and I insisted on wearing undershirts for far too long.  As a teen and young adult I wasn't one to have them hanging out looking for attention.  They aren't "fancy" - I don't even know what I mean by that!  (Large? Bedazzled?) They were just there.  I guess I appreciated them but took them for granted.  (Though I was impressed when I could feed babies with them.) But now that our days are numbered....

I was talking to a cousin and was saying that I feel like I should be going around topless.  Or sunbathe them.  Haul them out at parties.  Go on special trips with them.  (Do boobs have a bucket list?) She said, "It's like their Farewell Tour!"  That's exactly how I felt!  Like I should have a party for them. A BoobAPalooza!  (Who would believe the Stones are still going strong and I have to retire these girls?)  Okay, so I am not hauling them out but I feel like I should.  I guess it's a weird way of grieving the loss in advance.

I decided that if I had to do this I wanted it to fit into my life exactly where I wanted it to.  After the kid's birthdays, before the holidays, when all the school stuff was quiet.  I picked early October.  So, even though the surgeon said that they book 2-3 weeks out, I booked my October 8th surgery back in late July.  Ummmm, mistake. Instead of 2-3 weeks of fear and anxiety I opted for 8 weeks!  (Don't do that to yourself.  Ever.) I was so concerned with having my "ideal" timing... [idiot] So I've had plenty of time to spook myself out, do way too much internet research (where everyone dies) and to indulge in weird flights of fancy...

Like...

I've suddenly thought of boobs like a girl's secret superpower.  Used properly (or improperly) they cause men to stop thinking rationally.  I have to forfeit this power and I've never used it! Never used it to get drinks or out of a ticket or, I don't know, to get the cashier to not scan the expensive meats at Stop and Shop? (Okay, I guess that last one is only appealing at my age.)  Being a tomboy, none of that stuff has ever been "me" but have I missed an opportunity? 

And...

Maybe they won't look Frankenstein-y after all.  They could be better looking, I suppose.  Which makes me think of those girls who get implants and then just want to show them to everyone.  Is it because they are so happy? Or because showing them to so many doctors takes the mystery away?  I've been seen and touched by so many doctors, nurse and techs over the years that it's almost as normal as getting a haircut.  And that will all ramp up in the next few weeks. Could I forget that I am not supposed to be hauling them out every time someone say, "How are you doing?" Will I forget myself and trot them out at the holidays? ("It's a reunion tour!  They girls are back in town!")

Yes...

I know I am being CRAZY. I'm just worried about not feeling like me. No matter how great they turn out (please, please), they will still not be me.  It's strange knowing the surgeons will be moving things around on me.  Like a shell game....  And throwing out others...  [Shudder] But I know 100% that this is the right decision for me.  Even though I sometimes want to cancel it, all that would do is give me longer to worry about it all. 

But...

Here's a benefit to that stress and a deadline.  I have NEVER been so organized at the start of a new school year.  "Nesting" is not a pregnant lady thing.  It's an "Oh my God! I don't know what's going to happen so I'd better scrub everything now and buy enough supplies for a zombie apocalypse!" I've cleaned out my car, my garage, my basement, sorted closets, joined Cosco, bought dozens of Eggos... I have a million lists running of what I need to get and get done... Crazy- BUT it keeps me busy and from thinking too much...

One last thing...

I know it's probably weird that I am putting this out so publicly.  Especially when I have hard such a hard time telling people in person. But, I am an open person and have no problem talking about it if someone wants to.  Things get around.  This decision has been 15 years in the making for me.  And I am sure that (on Long Island- the BC capital) there are others contemplating the same course of action. Everyone has to come to their own conclusion and decide what's right for them. But I have had some wonderful people "show me their wares" and tell me about their experiences so I could find the right procedure for me.  I'd be happy to do the same for anyone else.  We girls and our girls have to stick together!


P.S. Unless you're a boy just looking for a free show! That's what the Internet is for... 

Awkward, Awkward TMI...

This is going to probably be a scattered, TMI post.  You might not want to stay- especially if you're an XY. Not sure how to start this...

For the most part, this blog has been silly, lighthearted stuff.  And I plan to stay that way, though I do have something not so silly to tell you first.  Almost every person that reads this knows me in real life.  We may be family or friends.  We may not live nearby or we may see each other around town all the time.  However we know each other, don't be offended if I haven't told you this before- its a weird thing to just bring up and I haven't told many people.  There is no natural way to just bring up in conversation that you've opted for a prophylactic mastectomy....

Sometimes to say something out loud is to admit to yourself that its real. I guess if I really wanted I could steer the conversation.  "Did you see all the Trojan ads MTV plays now?... Speaking of prophylactics..."  Or possibly, "Remember Janet Jackson's Superbowl wardrobe malfunction? Speaking of boob malfunctions..." Or the even less direct, "I went to London with my mom in High School to visit my aunt.  We went to the Tower of London.  Remember Henry the 8th and all of his wives?  Remember Ann Boleyn?  How'd she died again? Oh, right... Head lopped off.  [Pause] Speaking of lopping things off, did I tell you..."  Did that one go too far? Well, I am sometimes talking to someone that I know I should have told already and I am thinking of how awkward it would be to bring it up when we are talking about school supplies or the past summer.  The entire thing is weird- why should my wandering thoughts be any less weird...

If you know me, you know that I have a family history of Breast Cancer.   Some people might think that this is a drastic move.  At one time I would have agreed. When the idea was first mentioned to me in my late twenties, I balked.  (I've been seeing a Breast Surgeon since then.)  Then, the numbers of family members with BC increased.  And when I was 30, juggling the needs of my first baby and a dying mother,  the Mayo clinic announced that a BPM (bilateral prophylactic mastectomy-see you're learning something) can reduce the chances of BC 90% or more in someone with a significant family history.  Seeing my mother suffering, I decided to take that route when I hit 40.  Ten years flew by and I kept chickening out.  But, this spring, yet another biopsy and other changes signaled that the time has come.

If I haven't told you in person, don't be offended.  That's not the right word but you know what I mean.  I've seen some of you for hours and never brought it up.   It's just feels awkward to insert it into a conversation.  I'm not sick.  I'm not injured.  While it's been scheduled for months, the time is suddenly almost here.  I need to start letting people know.   In some ways, the reasons to bring it up are more for scheduling.  "I can't volunteer for anything in October or November.  Not, just just to be bitchy but..."  There are many people that I should've told by now but I want it to be a non event.  Just a blip.  A hiccup before the holidays.  And, I was trying to keep it all quiet for my kids.  (Who now know.)

So, weirdly, something that felt too awkward to say in person doesn't feel that awkward to put here.  Where anyone can see it.  I guess because I don't have to see anyone or hear their reactions.   It's not a big secret.  I don't care who knows.  And I have no problem talking about it.   I just don't want to introduce the topic.   I guess it feels awkward in person because then the other person doesn't know what to say. Or they feel bad. Or they disagree. It's awkward to bring up but its ALSO awkward to hear.... (It's also a bit awkward because it involves...boobies...)

So, now it's really out there.  You can bring it up.  Or not.  I am fine with both. You don't have to comment or say anything on FB or in person.  We can just be like tired commuters in the morning and just nod to each other then move on. I'll answer questions but don't really want to hear if anyone agrees or not with my decision. Keep that to yourself!  At least now you'll know why I move a bit slower this fall or why I don't volunteer or show up.  And don't feel strange or bad about any of it.  I feel blessed to live in a time that this is even an option.  I know my mother would be so happy that I am doing this.  I know she fought as hard as she could to stay as long as she could.  If my children never have to watch me go through what she did, it'll all be worth it.

SO.  This is probably what I'll be thinking about and writing about for the next few weeks.  But hopefully it will be entertaining even though the subject matter is odd.  I have so many curious thoughts running around my head.  Like Alice's white rabbit they are all confused and kind of funny....

Like the "Summer of Boobs"....

Bittersweet School Daze

Right now it's Sunday night and I am lying in bed awaiting the first day of a new school year.

I am struggling with a multitudes of "yet"s. This summer seemed exceedingly long, yet I can't believe it's over.  I bought their supplies in early July, yet I was scrambling to get it all figured out today.  I was so organized with all the pre-school start paperwork, yet I was just printing out schedules and home rooms for panicked kids.  I'm tired of feeding people on different summer-body-clock schedules, yet I already hate packing lunch boxes.  I'm SO tired of being surrounded every moment...yet... I'm missing them already.  Crazy.... But such is parenting- a bipolar, whiplash swing through moods, phases, frustrations, hopes and dreams.  I'm exhausted!

This summer was an odd one for us.  The very beginning of the summer started with a dreamy trip to Italy to meet up with family.  We had been planning it for soooo long and the school year-end craziness and trip-prep short circuited my brain and I didn't sign the kids up for anything.  I figured we'd find something to do. After we returned home and adjusted  to real life, everyone was happy with the lazy life.  I didn't really blame them.  The only time you CAN have a lazy summer is when you are young.  It's nice to be bored and lazy.  BUT we live in a town that doesn't (for the most part) do lazy summers.  Most kids go to camp and the town is empty- making it hard to find playmates. That leaves a LOT of pressure on me to be entertaining.  I start off as an okay camp counselor but burn out early and turn crappy.

I've been the mom-camp-director before and it was great but now?  What always worked doesn't seem to anymore.  Even though we all know what they say about excuses, here's my list of them...

1.  A bag of chalk, bubbles and water guns from Target is no longer entertaining.
2. They are older.
3. I am older.
4. They don't color anymore.  In fact, most art activities have lost their shine.
5. Nobody naps.  Why? Why? Why?

And the biggest...

While we always did summer "field trips", its getting harder to find something that they all enjoy.  One in High School, one in Middle School and one in Elementary School- impossible.  I can't  get anyone to agree on anything.  The oldest has been to everything that the youngest wants to go to a gazillion times. (And I've been a gazillion more because I remember the times that she forgot!  I'm living my own personal "Groundhogs Day"...) So we wind up debating what to do until its too late to do what I suggested in the first place.

I knew this would be the case because it started last summer.  I tried to lay out some ground rules BUT I am not the most disciplined of people.  I announced that "If you are staying home and not going to camp, you have to follow the mom camp rules!  There will be reading every day, math and instrument practice a few times a week AND chores!  You all have to learn how the house works. TV and computer will be limited! When I say we're going somewhere no on will complain! This is the Summer of Independence! You will do things for yourself!"   I saved leftover pages from workbooks, helped pick out summer reading, got a kids guidebook for NYC and dusted off the job jar.  I was ready to go.  But, in the words of the great Bugs Bunny, "What a maroon!"

It lasted about 2 weeks.  Then started sputtering.  Then I'd try to buckle back down but, once there had been a slip, they'd start weaseling...  By the middle of August we were in trouble. Then, school started late this year. I (shamefully) gave up. This last week, the garden slugs were more active.  It's amazing that Luca's cones and rods still allow him to see anything other than pixelated Minecraft-like images.  (When thrown off the computer, he needs to know when he can go back.  He's like a twitchy addict.)

So, I've been craving the start of school.  And,  yet...Back to the "yet"s. I need the structure to be a better mom, yet I dread the projects, freak outs and keeping everything organized. I am relived that no one will speak to me for 6 hours tomorrow, yet I will miss #3 wanting to share her every idea with ME.  I will be happy to do do my chores and errands in a monk-like silence, yet I'll have the radio on to keep me company.   I'll have no one to help me with housework, yet  I won't have to nag anyone to get it done.  I'll have no one to keep me company on errands, yet will be happy not have to listen to the begging for treats, candy and sparkly things at the stores.  

Motherhood, and it's constant mood swings, is making me dizzy...

Lazy...

Okay, I lied. I said that I was going to take off a few weeks and post intermittently through the summer.  LIAR!  I was intending to post but my kids...didn't...go...to...camp.  Which means they were here.  All the time.  And I was the counselor.  All the time.  All.  The. Time.


Don't get me wrong.  I love my kids with my entire being.  But there can be too much of a good thing.  I love dark chocolate.  BUT if I ate as much as I wanted, I'd be a 500 lb., diabetic Augustus Gloop.  While I haven't gained weight from them, I think I have lost brain cells.

Now, I'm not saying that they make me stupid but summer in the North East does. Lots of people go on vacation or to family summer homes and most kids go to summer camp.  It can be lonely for a mom who's not a-let's-go-looking-for-a-party-extrovert.  

Today, they all headed off to school.  And I have a giant impossible list of things to do.  Come back tomorrow...