21 Days

I will be in possession of my boobs for 21 more days. 

It’s been said once you do something for 21 days it becomes habit. Well, fuck me I say. 21 more days, living constant fear of those tumors getting agitated~If I fall down or life something heavy, will one of those tumor bitches reach out and try to grab me harder? –Idk…I’m sure it’s doubtful but doctor I am not.– 21 more days of feeling the tumors grow, slightly, but I do feel the pressure because there are five pansy ass tumors in there. 21 more days of undressing for the shower and feeling complete betrayal of my body. 21 more days of not being able to look at my body. 21 more days of not being able to look at myself.  21 more days of trying to put on the happy mommy face, while still (attempting) to be alert and attentive to my husband as he regales me with tales of his day~~though my mind is racing hard and I hear nothing he says~~sorry babe, that’s not that unusual actually. xx

Armed with the knowledge I will be losing my 30ff’s in 21 days is alarming and comforting at the same time. I now know the day my cancerous tit will be removed from my body. I will then be able to move forward with the physical and mental healing this imperative.

Usually I’m the kinda chick that let’s shit roll off her shoulder, cause I know life is not all fairy tales, snicker-doodles and happy bullshit. It should be and can be, some have experienced that joy, I have not. I personally know life is a motherfucker [not bitter, just stating facts as I know them to be mine, facts, thoughts, etc] and I’d like to cunt punch it.

To say cancer has thrown me for a loop and completely fucked me up is an understatement.  Who knows if I’m handling this properly? Meh~~ fuck you cancer.

21 Good-mornings

21 Good-nights

21,000,000,000,000,000 tears

I will share lots of smiles, laughs and surprises with my family. I will attempt to make the most of these next 21 days.

#Badboob

 

 

 

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