Monday, August 17, 2009
No, I have not been discomboobulated yet!
Yes, I know that word only has one “o” but in my case I think it should be a double. FINALLY, two weeks from today, I will be at MD Anderson in Houston, finding out the fate of said boobies.
I say “boobies” because where one goest, I think the other should goest. After all, they are a matched set, unlike my daughter’s whose set doesn’t match at all. I’m not giving away secrets here. To see the disparity, one only has to look at her — when she’s naked, which hardly counts at all since she is a workaholic, doesn’t date, and isn’t married. I mean, the girl is hardly ever naked nowadays, even though she works from home and could be naked 24/7 if she wanted to be. [This paragraph is a test for my daughter to see if she REALLY reads The Texas Woman!]
Anyway, I don’t want to have to go through life trying to keep my chest level or equally poufed. I’m too old for vanity, too young for cancer, which reminds me of my cousin Janice who says she's too light for heavy housework and too heavy for light housework. I always liked Janice. I should keep in touch more often.
I won’t miss my C cups at all. At least that’s how I feel right now. I might feel different when I wake up with nothing. Nada. Zip.
I have been busy while waiting to be summoned to The Big C Hospital. M-I-L has been critically ill…twice. We’re talking with Hospice today to put in motion her next steps through life. Such sadness and, between her situation and mine, such pressure on my poor husband. Thank God for his strong shoulders and loving heart.