Protected: Best of Blog: Men of America–You Have Been Punked!
There was about a month-and-a-half between my right side mastectomy and the placement of the tissue expander. Consequently, I lived with an “unleavened breast” for a good while. I needed some humor to help me deal with the state of my body. So I wrote, not one, not two, but three blogs with joke names for my breasts. Looking back at this, it seems a bit absurd. But it did help get me through a rough time. Honestly,
I originally posted Righty Needs a New Name on 8/28/13.
For some reason, I am finding a need to refer to the right side of my chest as something other than “surgical site.” It’s going to be several weeks before I start the temporary inflation process with the tissue expander so a name would be handy. And yes, I could stick with “righty” but that implies some kind of symmetry with “lefty”. A few ideas of various levels of quality:
The Tissue Formerly Known as Righty
Breast-to-Be (I kind of like this one. Maybe a friend will throw me a shower before surgery. Yay, presents!)
Vegetarian Sweater Meat
Ugly Duckling (Some day it will turn into a bee-you-ti-ful swan.)
Breasterpillar (Some day it will turn into a bee-you-ti-ful breasterfly.)
Puppy Pupa (continuing with the metamorphosis theme)
Empty Jug
Sad Sack (waah!)
Berefticle (waah!)
Scarla
Storage Chest
Bosom in Waiting
Breast, in Space Saver Mode
Unleavened Breast
Late Bloomer
Bosom’s Buddy
Fixer Upper
Do-Over
The Start of Something Big
Under the Shoulder Boulder Holder
The next day, I had still not gotten this out of my system and I posted, The Name Game (Continued).
Okay, so my cousin, Beth got me thinking about coming up with names for both righty and lefty. They are a set of a kind. So here goes, my stream of consciousness. As I did yesterday, I will add more as inspiration arises:
Boob and Boo Boo
Scooby and Scrappy
Lefty and Lucy (inspired by John’s suggestion “Righty Tighty and Lefty Loose-y”, which is backwards, unfortunately)
Benjamin and Button
Mammy and Mummy
Party and Pooped
Ta-da! and To-do
Zan and Jayna (The Wonder Twins, suggestion thanks to Lisa)
Waggy and Baggy
Jiggly and Scraggly
Lennie and Squiggy
Herman and Pee Wee
Judy and Punched
Hit and Miss
Denver and Phoenix (Okay, a little obscure but think about it and then groan.)
Teton and Won Ton
Ham Bow and Big Ow
Yin and Yang
Mickey and Mini (spelling intentional and I hear you all groaning.)
Bonnie and Clyde
Cupid and Psyche
Ernie and Bert (Okay, this one makes no sense but made me smile so I’m keeping it.)
Lilo and Stitched
Oscar and Felix
Simba and Scar
Wow and Ow
On 8/31/13, my parents got into the act so of course, I posted it in, Name Game-Part III, A Family Affair.
So my mom has been dying to come up with a name to contribute to the name game. Earlier today she told me that she didn’t think she could think of something because because she “loved me too much” and didn’t want to make light of my cancer.
Oh how the love has faded because, drum roll please…, she has contributed:
Liv and Let Live
My dad, not to be left out and offering a mechanical interpretation:
Built and Re-Built
Both of those ideas made me laugh aloud after a very hard day. So I guess they love me a lot after all.
After yesterday, John was needing a laugh. So I showed him this hilarious youtube video, Sad Cat Diary. He loved it and it was another way to celebrate the life of our cat because there are so many truths about their unique behavior described in the video. The video was all over Facebook so you may have already viewed it. If you haven’t, check it out. It’s well worth viewing.
This post is inspired by Mogatos, the author of the excellent blog, Saying Nope to Breast Cancer. She is in her early 30’s and had a prophylatic bilateral mastectomy due to her high genetic risk of breast cancer. Mogatos is a very courageous person who is helping lots of women. She has created a photo diary of her physical transformation since her mastectomy surgery in January. If you are interested in the two stage tissue expander/implant reconstruction process, I particularly recommend the site to you. Mogatos even painstakingly lists the costs of her medical care. Once I’m done with one of my medical bills, I don’t ever want to see it again.
I have had a request or two to see my reconstruction. I’m sorry to say that I am not evolved enough to share more than a photo of my belly button to the blogisphere. However, I have put together a visual showing my surgical process. Although breast cancer isn’t funny, using humor to cope with its threat is serious business.
Protected: Best of Blog: 2000 Explosive Hits!
My April posts have been loosely inspired by the WEGO Health Writers’ Monthly Challenge. I have yet to use any of their daily writing prompts until now. Today is the Haiku challenge! I have written a few haiku just for you! I have categorized them, because unlike good poetry, my haiku do not stand well on their own.
About acupuncture:
Freezing my butt off
Instead of constant hot flash
Needles are good, yay!
About TRAM surgery recovery:
Righty’s still swollen
Cleavage moved left of center
Tee hee hee, cancer.
On having 2012 annual taxes and 2013 estimated first quarter taxes due within two days of one another:
Taxes are due twice
In the mid-month of April
Self-employment, boo!
About these haiku:
Writing breast-themed poems
After years of instruction
Makes teachers cry hard.
There you have it, I have actually followed the challenge today!
My activist sign today reads: Follow directions when it suits you.
These tulips are a little frilly for early spring. The fancy tulips usually don’t start blooming until it gets warmer. Maybe these are having hot flashes.
P.S. One of my favorite children’s books is an illustrated compilation of haiku by Issa called, Cool Melons-Turn to Frogs. Here’s an example from the book:
Cool melons-
Turn to frogs!
If people should come near.
-Issa, translated by Mathew GollubIssa, you felt sorry for the melons at the market because they got eaten after they were purchased. Would you be interested in sampling some Soylent Green?
I finally got around to making the very healthy chia pudding recipe I posted from my dear friend, Mike, who practices Chinese medicine in New York City. Helen of My Lymph Node Transplant had made it a few days earlier and kindly noted that it was a bit on the bland side, so she had added extra dates to it. At that point Helen declared it, “very nice”. So I doubled the dates. I also ended up roasting my raw cashews after my husband reminded me that he is allergic to raw nuts. I also substituted olive oil for coconut oil. I couldn’t find the latter and I suspect my daughter has absconded with it to use as wax for some project she is doing in her room, perhaps making a surf board out of a tree branch or something. (I exaggerate her mad scientist shenanigans only slightly. Only this morning, I found a seafood fork in the shower.)
After I blended the pudding in the my food processor, I gave it a sniff. It had a pleasant, nutty aroma. The appearance is a nutty tan color. I did not think it looked bad. However, my husband, who will eat ANYTHING, wouldn’t even try a bite. I ate a little spoonful and it tasted good and the texture was similar to tapioca pudding, just as Mike had described in his introduction to the recipe. Wait, a minute. I just remembered something. I don’t like tapioca pudding because of the texture. Actually, I find the texture to be somewhat disgusting. Did I think the fact that this pudding has healthy ingredients was going to change this for me? Aaaah! I have become my grandmother. Unlike the stereotypical expectations of a first generation Italian immigrant, my nonna was a pretty lousy cook. I remember how incredulous she was when her soups didn’t turn out tasty. She would say, “But I put a whole stick of good butter in it and a wedge of good cheese.” She thought the quality of the ingredient trumped all. And grandma, why did you put all of that butter in the soup. Yuck! (My mother has read this post and believes I may have confused her mother with Paula Deen, the famous butter loving chef.)
So, I took all of this time and energy, not to mention the expense of the very healthy ingredients and ended up with Soylent Green! You don’t know what soylent green is? It’s the “plankton based” food that people had to eat in the dystopian future sci-fi movie of 1973 starring Charlton Heston. You see the world had ruined the environment and was running out of food. Charlton played a rugged and “sexy” cop whose wardrobe looked like a mash-up of Oliver Twist and Mork of Mork and Mindy. The masses in this society had to eat processed “plankton” crackers. But as Charlton learns by the end of the movie, there’s no plankton. “Soylent Green, it’s people, it’s people!”
Okay, so my initial batch of chia pudding reminded me of a film about cannibal crackers. That is not a good start. But I had put this much time into it and put lots of good ingredients in. So, like Katie Torlai before me, I started combining it with stuff. I added a couple of tablespoons of pudding to 2 tablespoons plain Greek yogurt, 2 tablespoons flax seed meal, and 3/4 of a peeled apple, sliced into small chunks. This concoction was to be my breakfast, which I have adopted as my “medicinal meal”, that is the way I get 2 tablespoons of flax seed meal into my diet each day. Consequently, my expectations for breakfast are low.
As I mixed up my small vat of chunky, seedy, goo, the appearance points for the dish dropped from 1/4 of a star to zero stars. It looked really unappealing. I took a taste, fully expecting to exclaim, “Soylent Green, it’s chia, it’s chunky, yogurty, seedy chia!”
To my surprise, the added ingredients actually improved the dish’s texture score from 0 stars to 1 star. It no longer reminded me of the goo from badly cooked okra. The flavor rating was bumped up to 1 1/2 stars.
Ding, ding, ding! Marginally palatable breakfast is served!
I just offered Charlton a spoonful of pudding. Coward!!!!
Photo from Wikipedia
P.S. I almost forgot that it is Health Activist Writers’ Challenge month. Today, my health activist sign reads as follows:
You are what you eat, especially if you live in a dystopian future complete with Soylent Green as the only food option.
For today’s Health Activist Writers’ challenge post, I have a challenge for you.
I challenge you to join the WRF, the World Resting Federation. Yes, you read right, the World Resting Federation. Yeah, we get confused with another world federation. We have a similar name plus we also wear really cool costumes and have cool names. My resting name is Googly Eyes. We also engage in bouts to see who is the hardest rester. I am able to use the mesmerizing power of my cattywampus bosoms to render my opponents wide-eyed while I catch some major z’s.
Are you ready to rest with the best?
Come see my next match.
It’s on Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!
Limited edition commemorative pj’s will be on sale.
I have so many thoughts, meaningful ones, and I just can’t get them organized into a post. Boo, brain! Oh, I take that back. Brain, you’ve been through a lot and it’s okay for you to take a rest. Remember when this happened after our last major surgery, the mastectomy? Other body parts need a lot more energy now for healing. Frontal lobes, you are low on the priority list right now. I’ve had a very expensive and extensive stabbing by a highly trained surgeon. Parts were rearranged. My spare tire was made into a headlight. It’s only natural that there would be less energy for thoughts other than self-preserving ones, like “Hey, Self, remember no drunken table dancing until six weeks past surgery!”
I have the ingredients for a meaningful, uplifting, and moving post but neither a bowl nor spoon by which I can mix them into blog magic.
This reminds me of something. I remember when I lived in North Carolina, there was column in the local paper that was meant to be a place holder. However, the real article never made it to the published edition of the paper. So there was a column that read something along the lines of, “This article will be of interest to a wide variety of readers, blah, blah, blah.”
So until I can get my ball bearing thoughts organized, here’s a placeholder:
This blog post will be so absorbing, humorous, and meaningful that each reader will be ever happy and ever healthy. And neither the reader, the reader’s children, or the reader’s children’s children, will ever again experience being stuck in traffic. Finally, drunken table dancing will always result in only positive consequences.
You’re welcome.
One of the ball bearings that would have made your life perfect.
I had a check-up with Dr. Welk yesterday to get my stitches taken out of my belly button. (Oh yeah, I neglected to mention that a consequence of removing a lot of abdominal tissue when creating the TRAM flap, means that the belly button needs to be attached to new skin and fat. So, my belly button is in the same place, but it’s been stitched to a whole new abdominal environment.)
Everything continues to look excellent and Dr. Welk told me that he doesn’t need to see me for another month. John and I had a number of questions, which basically boiled down to “What would Elizabeth have to do to completely wreck the TRAM surgery and need an even bigger surgery to fix it?” And no, we are not paranoid, Dr. Welk had told us of this possibility.
So here’s the “don’t” list:
1) No bathing or walking of really large dogs, who may run away unexpectedly, while you are still holding on to them.
2) No drunken table dancing.
My weekend plans are ruined.
My Eyes Are Up Here 