Stealing for a cause

Aimee over at Greeblemonkey posted about breast self-exams yesterday and it got me thinking.

How often do you touch yourself? Are you pretty consistent about it? Are you comfortable with it? Are you sure you are doing it right? Have you memorized all your textures and curves? Those might sound like intimate questions and I’m probably going to get some pretty nasty google-search traffic because of it but I’m still asking.

My life has been touched by breast cancer only distantly. For that I am grateful. However, every single woman in my family (myself included) has had a breast cancer scare. The first time you touch your breast and feel something odd, something too hard, something just not right; the air gets sucked out of the world. Really, no air. Nothing to breathe. The room spins like when you had too many tequila shots on your birthday. And then all the air rushes back into the world; you choke on your own spit as it’s forced down your wind pipe. And then you die. Or something like that. After I was done with my first panic attack EVER, I called my doctor and made an appointment. Fibrous lumps. Non-cancerous and very very very common in my family. But that doesn’t mean that it will always be that way. I can still develop cancer. Which means that I have to do self-exams regularly. AND, I have to know my body very well. I’m familiar with the shape and textures of my nipples, the way each of my breasts looks and feels. I know every curve. That may sound pervy to you but it’s just the way it is here in Sassy’s pants.

Do you touch yourself? If not, then you should. You can click Here to get more information. I also recommend you talk with your doctor. Don’t be afraid to ask what might feel like silly questions. They are not silly. EVER.

And because Aimee’s post made me think of this song, I leave you with: