Friggin cancer.  Friggin lobular cancer.  I got clarification from my doctor–they actually fully removed 17 lymph nodes.  He said he pulled out three and sent them to the lab while I was on the operating table.  It came back that 2 of the 3 had cancer, so he knew he needed to remove more.  So he pulled out 14 more.  Those got sent to the lab, where they dissected them and found 11 of those had cancerous tumors.  My doctor couldn’t believe it.  He originally thought my lymph nodes weren’t going to be involved at all, based on ultrasound and MRI and CT.  But no, those fuckers were keeping secrets.  

        The lesion in my actual breast tissue was 7 cm!  That’s the size of a friggin peach!  I’ve been having mammograms since I was 39 (5 years).  How does a mammogram miss a friggin peach?!  It’s not a pea or a peanut or a walnut or a grape.  Not even a lemon.  It’s a friggin peach.  It’s a low grade cancer too, which means it’s slow-growing.  Slow.  So how did all my mammograms and breast exams miss it?  That’s the nature of lobular cancer.  My doctor said lobular cancer hides.  It disguises itself as normal healthy breast tissue.  So you don’t know it’s there until it’s THERE.  And what’s crazy is that it was the size of a peach, taking up space in all four quadrants of my breast.  To me, it felt like it was a thumb.  A thumb resting right on the top of my breast.  I never would have guessed the thing was so big and taking up so much real estate.  Originally the doctor said it was over 40% of my breast, but I'm sure it was even more.

        The doctor said this thing has been growing for years.  My twins are 7.  I stopped breastfeeding them in 2018, 6 years ago.  I wonder if it was there then.  Or did it start growing afterward?  The doctor said there’s no telling, but it’s definitely been years and it’s definitely slow-growing.  Sneaky motherfucker.

        When I got to my appointment yesterday and the nurse brought me into the exam room, she asked if I was still wrapped with gauze.  I told her I had my front-close sports bra now–no more mummy wraps.  She asked if I still had my drains.  “My plastic testicles?  Yep, they’re still hanging and sticking to my abdomen.”  She about died.  “In all my years working here, I’ve never heard anyone call them that!”  That surprised me because that was my FIRST line of thought–giant plastic annoying ballsack hanging from my belly.  She thought it was so funny, she had me repeat it to the doctor and the rest of the staff.  I guess not everyone thinks the way I do.

        I’m worried about radiation because it can cause an implant to fail.  It can screw up your skin so badly that an implant won’t work.  That’s the only silver lining here–a nice new shiny set of perky boobs.  You don’t know how long I’ve been rolling my boobs up into my bra.  Folding them accordian-style so they look normal in a sports bra.  I’ve been tucking them into my belt, my socks, dragging them along the ground.  It’ll be a relief to have them stand at attention again like they did from 2001 until 2004.  Then gravity started setting in.  Thank God I met Chris in 2003.  He got to see them.  Briefly.  I sure do hope I live long enough to enjoy my new boobs.  I told Chris that when I die, I want him to find a taxidermist to mount my new boobs like deer antlers and hang them above our bed.  And funnily enough, deer antlers are called a rack.  So I’ll need him to find someone to mount my rack.