I thought about putting this out until Monday because a lot of people just don't read blogs on the weekend but then I realized that I've left you all hanging and worried. You don't need to spend the weekend worrying. I've already done that and it's no fun.
The night of the lump or Why Ex is a Fucking Saint
The night I found the lump is also the night that I broke my bed. Remember that? It was like 1AM and Ex is lying on the floor screwing my bed rails back onto the headboard while I'm googling Breast-Lumps-That-Will-Kill-You. I'm here to tell you that when you have a medical scare, Google is NOT YOUR FRIEND. In fact, Google is an asshole. I'm just sayin'.
So, Ex fixed my bed and held me while I cried and snotted all over his shirt. I'm not sure how I would have made it through the first couple of terror filled hours without him. The next day I emailed my doctor about the lump and he kind of brushed me off and said it's probably nothing. When I told this to Ex over the phone I think he almost climbed through the mouth piece to slap me upside the head. "Make An Appointment." "MAKE AN APPOINTMENT" "MAKE THE DAMN APPOINTMENT OR I WILL MAKE IT FOR YOU!!!" I made an appointment. And then Ex insisted on going with me. I'm not sure if he was afraid I wouldn't go or if he was there to support me. Probably both.
So, not to bore you with all the details, over the following 2 weeks, I had lots of appointments. I was touched and smooshed and prodded and ultrasounded and had giant stabby things shoved into my lovely lady lumps. There was some pain and tenderness. The biopsy left me sore and achy for a few days. But the worst? The worst was the fear.
I was definitely NOT myself for those two weeks. I was withdrawing from people. I was closing off. I was scared out of my everloving mind. I wasn't sleeping. I wasn't eating. I wasn't blogging. My pants were completely devoid of Sass.
I finally got the phone call with the all clear. And I cried some more. Lots and lots and lots more. Oh the relief. It was like having a 50 pound dildo removed from my pearl necklace.
My boobies. They are healthy. My boobies. They are staying attached to my body. I love my boobies. And in honor of my healthy still attached boobies, a booby haiku.
I love my pretty boobies
Nipples are your friends
They should run for president
And now, finally... FINALLY, the shit storm seems to have ended. I've got no drama going on. None. Nada. And it's wonderful. The Things start school in a couple of weeks. We are gearing up for all the sports seasons to kick off. I've been to festivals and parades and dance clubs. I've had a couple of dates that were good. But no drama. Perhaps a bit of intrigue but I'm ok with that. After all, I need something else to write about besides how crappy my summer has been. Y'all are probably almost as tired of reading my overly emotional Snotty McCryBaby posts as I am of living them.
So, starting Monday. We're back to the Sass.