Tootie, How Can You Read Those? They’re Just Full Of Rumor, Gossip & Innuendo.

There are people who in this world get shoved around and there are people who do the shoving! -Jo, Facts Of Life—I plan to shove cancer as far away from me as fucking possible.

It’s been 23 days since my bilateral mastectomy. And yet I still wake up every morning crying….Crying like a fucking baby….The tears will sneak up on me & run down my face until I realize I’m in full cry mode. Usually, I’m able to wipe them away before hubby or five sees me breaking down. I know letting emotions out is good, cathartic and essential to fully healing, but dammit….I’m getting tired of these puffy ass eyes & bruised ass chest where my boobs once laid.

Cancer is such a fucking asshole. Ya know what, cancer is the definition of #assholism. Young, old, healthy, obese–It doesn’t give a fuck who you are. Fuck you cancer. The day when a cure is found will be the most gloriously celebrated day!

I’ve met some many fantastic women since beginning my blog. I had no idea that I would make friends when I began #badboob.  But if you think about it, some of my [and possibly your] closest friends came from a shitstorm of a situation that automatically bond you; those turn out to be the best and closest friends to have in your life.

I look in my closet at all my cute tee’s[that I may or may not be too old to still be wearing] but fuck it, they’re my tee’s. I see sadness when looking in the closet. I know this flat deformed chest is temporary, but still….it sucks. So big bulky sweaters it is while out in public….comfy tanks while at home.

My incisions still get throbby when walking. It feels like nipple freeze without nipples. If that makes sense. How weird is is to my to have those feelings in my boobs when I’m otherwise numb, all nerves have been severed; there is virtually no feeling on my chest–other than the pain still associated with the surgery.

Enough with your fucking sob story already Tara….Erm….it’s my blog & that’s why your here? Right?….Let’s hear some good shit….Well….Uhm….You see, with cancer….there really is no good shit….except when it is removed, treatments are over & you are officially deemed cancer free.

I did visit Dianne’s Selection & Lovely Lady Boutique yesterday. Picked up a few post mastecto bras and inserts yesterday. Been playing around with them a bit this morning. Trying to get used to seeing myself with ‘boobs’ again….ugh….it’s not easy kids….more tears….I did also pick up a handicap placard yesterday….just in case chemo really kicks my ass. I want to be prepared. And completed a fuckton more paperwork as well, hoping to get some good replies from all the financial forms I’ve been sending.

I am getting my strength back. Have almost, almost I say, full mobility in my arms. Now to get that goddamned pain to stop and I may feel like myself again very soon.

Be kind kids



Hey, Stifler, How’s The “Pale Ale”?

Where the hell is page one and why do I keep losing it? Seriously, I’ve spent the entire goddamned weekend filling out financial forms and bullshit; and goddammit page one keeps disappearing from me–grr.

Hey girls instant trick to looking thin–Have your 30ff’s sliced off your chest; voila! Instant slimming–So fucking strange to see my clothes in my body now. The fuck has happened to me?  Our family?  What happened to my little piece of mind from the 90’s that remained intact–Fucking cancer….That’s what happened….motherfuckinfucker

This weekend I spent time compiling binder of all the paper work since this rather unfortunate detour of breast cancer occurred. If I can get my my mind off the financial aspect of cancer & quit worrying about the shit, I’m sure my well being will begin to improve.

My husband and five year old completely pampered my Saturday by filing, buffing & painting my nails. FullSizeRender (4)

My five did a fanfuckintastic job with my toes. xoxox

Okay kids, I’ve said this a thousand times already–still can not believe I found the cancer so early as I never felt sick. TBT – I’m beginning to dread the thought of chemo & other treatments required to keep my body healthy. Oncologist did say she has no problem prescribing cannabinoids for me once treatments begin. Having known many friends and family that have used this medicine in conjunction with other med’s and knowing their results were favorable, puts me at ease; just slightly mind you.

One day at a time
One step at a time
Lots of tears

I was able to bathe this weekend [almost by completely by myself]. Candles were lit and smelling lovely. It was such a joy just to soak in the water, trying not to look at my deformed chest, trying to choke back the tears….The site of my body saddens me, immensely. I am so grateful for my husband that will listen and help talk me back to ‘reality’ when I begin flipping out. And I know this is temporary, but it’s still a mind fuck….I know I’ll have a beautiful reconstructed chest, but that does not help my mind or mental well being at the mo.

I’d been under the impression post-masecto chest’s were completely flat & concave. Not sure if it’s the expanders or what, but I’m not completely flat [almost], but I’m terribly lopsided. I hope this will change when I see the plastic surgeon 1/19/16 and get my first fill-up. This process I’m still learning about—the fill-ups, wait time, removal of expanders and eventual insertion of the silicone boob.

Each woman/man deals and reacts to breast cancer in their own way, respectably. I do not feel ashamed or embarrassed by how I look. Unfortunately, many women do. Matter of fact, I’m still wearing all my tank tops etc. I had many tank tops that never fit, no matter how much weight I lost, guess what? with no tits, they fit now….A crazy thing I have noticed though, after the shower/bath I used to pick up my boobs and dry underneath. Guess what kids, with no boobage, there is nothing to pick up & dry–mind totally fucking blown. I know this reconstruction process should take 4-6 months [from what I’ve read], by then I should have dropped the weight that decided to attach itself back to me-damn pounds. *shakes fist* stay off my ass & my stomach damn whore weight!

I still have so much swelling and discomfort, 20 days later, but am told it’s all normal. I am healing as I should be. Sleeping is getting better. But cancer has still robbed us of so much, especially intimacy–which I know will resume to normalcy.

I post this blog to the #badboob Facebook page & my own personal page, will get away from posting on personal page; but curious to know if you, the readers, would be interested in a cancer haver/survivor support group via Facebook? It wold be a private group, obv…..but a good place for us to vent, talk, cry, laugh, etc…..

Now off to finish filling out the financial aid paperwork for upcoming prescriptions and bullshit.



The One With No Boobs

Holy fuck me! I woke up in sooooooo much fucking pain today. Like first day of surgery pain, even though today is day eight since double mastectomy. [Some of you may be confused my by previous blog titles. I had both breasts removed. The whore filled with cancer and I sacrificed the other to prevent cancer recurrence & have to go through this fucking nightmare again.]

Yesterday I woke all bright & chipper & shit. I got my first post-cancer walk in with the boy & dog, played with my five and his trucks, had a wonderful visit from a friend & was able to get a glorious daytime nap cause hubby was able to get five midday. Felt great all night. Thought I was getting back to my old normal [snort] self.

Ah a handful of pain meds & protein infused coffee–should be situated shortly.

And is just me, or does everyone with a memory foam topper wake drenched in fucking sweat like a junky going through detox? Could be from the 80 pound dog laying on me too? On the other hand, I finally dropped that painkiller ladened deuce! My stomach is flat again! Yippeefuckingskippy!

I obtained my pathology report Monday. The cancer has been completely removed from my breast. Interestingly she told me there were two types they removed. Two different types of fucking cancer! Can you believe that shit?? She said it was ‘rare & bizarre[to those of you who read this on Fb yesterday, deal with it. Told ya I’d be blogging it too.] *emoticon snarky face*

I knew I had  invasive ductile carcinoma. What I find absofuckinlutely amazing is the second cancer removed, from same #badboob, called invasive lobular carcinoma wasn’t present on biopsy! Per pathology report, page 4 of 9, “…3 foci…Invasive lobular carcinoma were not present on prior core biopsy” Can you fucking believe that? They (and I) saw the tumors on the ultrasound on 11/19, but the cancer wasn’t even born yet? The fuck? Told ya at the beginning of my blog, that I was an ‘against the grain kinda girl’….more proof of that right here. 

Goddammit! That blows my fucking mind! Seriously, I caught that shit so fucking early. How is that even possible? I have no words for the feelings I’m feeling. I do know, had I not caught that lump, 11/10/15 [during sex], those two cancers would have fucked me the fuck up.

Goddammit. I feel lucky as fuck. For real. All tingly and miracley & shit.

Again, never having had a surgery before, I didn’t know what to expect. I thought I’d be all Frankensteiny & shit, not being able to move my arms. I actually have more mobility than I anticipated.

I thought I’d not be able to do anything. Reach out for a hug, reach for a glass, wipe the ole poop-chute, but none of those tasks were even a problem. I cannot reach high-like to hang clothes in the closet. I can not reach far-like to grab my damned charger that keeps falling off my bedside table. Other than that, I feel normal, sans boobs.

I did have my first look at my chest on Monday when she took the hospital dressing off. I was shocked, saddened, stunned, happy [Uhm Tara, why the fuck would you be happy] Uhm, no more cancer. My chest is still all sorts of black, blue, yellow & shit….it is not pretty….hell my non-boobed chest is stilll bigger than some of the chicks I know with a flat chest….I had a lot of boob to remove….and I have the expanders in….still not sure how I feel about them….let you know when I get my first pump up. The nurse did remove the drainage tube from the right side. Leftie’s drainage has lessened, so that tube should be coming out tomorrow.

Happy New Year kids! May you all be cancer free. xx



Dude, Where’s My Boob?

Here I sit in the hospital bed–cancer free!!

Remember the celebratory ass-slaps & high-fives I spoke of a few times? Well now is the time kids! Slap that ass nearest to you and give your buddy a high-five bitches. 

Holy fuckamorolee what a goddamned ride that was….Now onto healing, recovery and treatment. My sentinel nodes came back clean, which is a very good thing. I’ve yet to talk to oncology to find specific course of action. That will be upon analyzing the tumors. I should have complete pathology report Monday.

I actually have more mobility than I thought I would.  I’m not quite sure what I expected to feel like after surgery–other than traumatized over the fact I had to lose my breasts–I know, I know–There’s your reconstruction Tara.  Der….This I know…But still….Ya know…. Fucking Cancer….I will forever be changed….I am also alive!!

Now that the cancer has been extracted, I’m going to try getting excited about the reduction. Cause guess what? I’ve been reduced. In a big fucking way.

There are some that dream of breast enlargement & some dreaming of reductions. I was in the latter boat. The fake boobs are not installed yet. Expanders were put into me to begin the stretching process. It’ll be a few months until they’re up and ready to go. [insert winky face here]

I knew I was receiving a shitton of prayers, healing vibes & positive energies from around the world yesterday…I felt them all….All the loves…. All the hugs.. All the cries….All the concern….I felt it all….I still feel the positivity now or that could be the pain medication. Fuck if I know. Thank you all for cheering me and the family on for the past 30 days. Everyone has been so great and upbeat….I had no choice but to remain positive myself. I appreciate you guys more than I can ever put to pen.

If all my stats still look good, I should be on my way home later this evening. We will be counting down the minutes till Santa’s arrival courtesy of the NORAD Tracker. Currently there are 21 hours until Santa departs the North Pole guys!! My gift has already arrived. At the skilled hands of the surgeons yesterday, they full-fulled  the two items on my Christmas wish list!   I am cancer free kids and I’ll be home celebrating with my family in the house of peen.

Hmmm-will #badboob continue,  you want to know? It’s no longer a bad boob, that bitch boob was kicked out into the rain….Blogging about this  ordeal has been  extremely helpful for me; by allowing  me to vent and get shit off my chest [see what I did there?], more so than I thought it would.


*This post may be filled with more typos & shit than normal*



Cancer, I Bid You Adieu

Today is the day a a part of my body, shit, two parts of my body will be sacrificed to motherfucking cancer; you nasty day time hooker-fucking cancer.

I’ve written it before and I’m going to say it again: If I did not know I had cancer, I wouldn’t know. How fucking bizarre it that? I don’t feel off or any dif really other than that fact I’ve gained some pounds, some neck pain & my boobs hurt-getting close to cycle time again kids. Shit, I’d think the holiday madness is finally catching up to me. Fuck me. Cancer. Fuck that. I’m fortunate in the fact I caught this breast cancer so early. I’m fortunate in the fact my family is planted firmed by my side. I’m fortunate in the fact that I’ll some of the best cancer doctors in Raleigh performing my mastectomy. Fuck~~~I know it’s happening in a few hours, but goddammit, ya know??

I’m to be at the hospital 1:30 pm and get prepped. Surgery should begin at 3:30 & take about 3.5 hours [including the reconstruction portion], then two in recovery.

Relief can’t even begin to describe my feelings. I will be cancer free this evening. Ya know feeling cancerous tumors grow within your body over the course of the past 41 days is a huge mindfuck. I’ve been plagued with phantom pains–is it the cancer? Fuck if I know. How long were those whore lumps hanging out till I caught one?  My mind is telling me yes. My mind has been very naughty this past month. Freaking me out and shit. I’ve never been a depressed person because I know shit happens. I imagine this may fuck with my psyche a mo.

You men and women who have been before me and stood [what appeared] so brave, I applaud you. I would have liked to have been brave and shit~~blubbered mess I am.

I know this particular nightmare is over….Fuck, I don’t want to see what our next journey is….Let’s imagine warm sandy beaches at sunset with fun floppy hats and fruity drinks, shall we?

I feel all your guyz’s love, prayers, well-wishes, juju-every single fucking ounce is swimming in my heart. Making me weep again. The amount of support everyone has shown has been tremendous. Thank you. Every single one of you beautiful motherfuckers.


It’s The End Of My Boobs As I Know Them

(And I feel fine)

Well not so much. Really. You know how that shit is. Right? How can you have cancer and not think about it? I mean I’m still doing normal shit, but yes this cancer has taken over the majority of my thoughts for the the past 27 days. Loading the fucking dish washer or washing machine. Playing outside. Laughing.

So get this….I received a Roomba 980 back in October. Instantly fell in love with this bitch….It works itself. Cleans like a motherfucker. No dog fur left behind & I can control it from my phone. Thanks again House Party!

House wise, recovery will be a breeze! Since receiving this, I’ve only had to sweep a few times….no shit!

Whilst I’m laying about, Rosie will be doing her thing every other night at 6:45 pm.

We know everyone deals with problems their own way. I get this. So many ailments that we learn to cope with daily.

No matter your struggle, we all fucking struggle. 

Those who know me, know a lot of great things have happened during my lifetime as well as many fucked up things no one should have to endure have occurred. So ya know what?

I haz the sads. I haz the angries, I haz the scareds. Flipside– I am hopeful, optimistic, ready to kick this shit to the fucking curb, I’m happy & love those nearest to me the fullest. As should you. Love your lovlies. Then kick that toxic shit out. Move on. Continue to grow.

This is a temporary bought of:
What in the fucking fuck is gong on here?

I’ll be free of cancer & bandaged in two days. Another mourning period. I am sure of this. It will take time for me to adjust to being cancer free and seeing my new silhouette….My husband…My sons….Life will go on goddammit….We will adjust. We’ll keep spirits high. 2016 is just around the corner….At the end of the night, it’s family that brings me back to my calm. That feeling of complete love and peace that assures me this will be behind us soon….xoxo






A Weight Off My Shoulders

I’ve joked many times throughout the years with friends that my boobs weigh about 15 pounds a piece—that’s a lot of goddamned boob and excess weight. Even now at my lightest, they’re still pretty hefty bitches. After surgery….in three days….I will literally have a weight lifted from my shoulders….Oh man, how I am looking forward to walking around, feeling normal [ha-you know what I mean], didn’t say acting normal….I will enter the room first, not my boobs….My boobs won’t knock me out while doing jumping jacks anymore! Look at the fun fucking things I’ll be able to do again kids…..fuck you hard cancer… very, very, very, fucking hard sans the lube, ya bastard.

My oncologist called this morning with results of the CT Scan yesterday. They are normal she reports. The bone test has not returned. But I feel more confident about complete cancer removal on Tuesday….-Like I mentioned earlier this week, no ass-slapping or high-fives till I know it’s gone. Mmkay.

Speaking of high-fiving….uhm, you girls love a fucking high-five, don’t you? Seriously, I’ve never been subjected to so many high-fives before. I never knew it was a chick thing [recall, my house of peen bit]. I missed that gene and feel like a complete fucktard every time one of you starts raising your fucking arm….I may just start giving you a thumbs up instead….No offense ladies….Just not a high-fiver….Never received my copy of  ‘how to be a lady handbook’….Just don’t know how to act around people in general.

I did learn more of the mastectomy procedure yesterday. I’ll be having a sentinel lymph node biopsy. I am so ready to know what sort of treatments I’ll have to endure. Fortunately my receptors that are supposed to be good are good and the bad are bad….this is good I’m told for treatment. But they nor we will know anything until SLNB. My husband and family should hear something pretty quick about my staging etc once the breast cancer doctor is done removing my breasts…..And….And.…What are they going to do with those six tumors they extract from my breast? Is it too warped of me to want to hold onto them? I can fashion my own jewelry. Sorta like the raccoon baculum jewelry? I will ask them regardless of what they’re doing with them. Because I’m curious about that sorta shit.

So Why Are You Acting Like A Bloody Fool?

Bad Boob, Bad Boob
What’cha gonna do?
What’cha gonna do when they come for you?
Today is the last Friday I will have cancer growing in my breast.
Today is the last Friday I will be concerned with the growth rate/speed and all the horseshit….worrying if it’s spread any further.
Today is the last Friday I will have with own breasts before reconstruction.

This week, I thought I’d be relaxing by finishing shopping, cleaning the corners, stocking pantry & shit…..but….that whore #badboob has had me driving all over the city of Raleigh for various appointments….fuck you so very hard cancer….

Today I’ll be in imaging for a CT Scan & Bone Scan–Just in case she says. Just to make sure the cancer has not spread she says. So we’ll be sure of our game plan on Tuesday [four fucking days] she says.

And yesterday, after finally obtaining a copy of my pathology report, I learned I have 6 tumors and not the 5 I thought for the past 25 days I thought there were 5 menacing fuckers in there…..but no….here 6 goddamned tumors.

Guess what? Life is crazy for everyone right now. My story is no better than yours. We all are trying to wipe shit off our ass. Some are more successful at the clean up than others.

Monday I go in for the ‘Mark up’. I know many of you ladies out there have had implants and went through this….for enhancement sake….I’m curious to hear from the ladies who’ve been ‘marked up’ the day before a mastectomy….Is it as traumatic as I envision?…I just know I’m going to lose my shit.

I’ve been a weepy, emotional mess, blubbering mess recently. Trying to keep my shit together while in the company of others and not dwell too much on upcoming events but I am and I have [sorry babe]. Trying to stay strong for my family with much difficulties. I know husband is dealing with shit from work & I dislike being in superspazz mode when he gets home…. Spazz I am.

Think we completed our shopping this week? Fuck no….Possibly tomorrow….But fuck, not really looking forward to shopping in the last weekend of Christmas madness when everyone and his fucking inbred uncle are cock-blocking the isles while where their fucking jammie [meth maker] pants…..gah. People suck. Cancer sucks more.

What is Fozzie Bear?

Watching Wheel of Fortune the other night. F zz e Bear was the puzzle. What is the answer kids?

The answer was Fozzie Bear. Those fucking stunods could not figure this puzzle to save their lives. They guessed Fuzzie Bear, Fuzzle Bear, Fuzzie Bear & so on. Drunken Pat was so frustrated with those fuckers. All I could do was laugh & yell at the screen–Poor ole Fozzie Bear no love from those wheel spinners. Stupid fuckers. It was all three of them too. Not just one blonde in bunch but every damn one.

Sometimes the answers are so obvious we just can’t see it. Double mastectomy in five days means no cancer. Problem will be answered. Boom. At least physically. The mental recovery may take a bit longer.

Just completed a pre-op phone conversation. Merry Christmas she says ending our talk. Fucking tears….goddammit cancer….All I want for Christmas is to be cancer free….I would rather be hanging bows from my boobs than to be fully fucking bandaged & bedridden Christmas morning….I will have my family. I will have my life. Hell we may even open presents in our bed? Who knows? Who cares?

I know the true spirit is in your heart and how you project onto others. I’m trying to keep my light twinkling for my sweet five year old who can’t really comprehend the full scope of shit that’s about to go down….Really I am. I’m keeping it together tear free most of the day…. There have been a few sneaky Santa’s sending him cards and gifts! He is one happy boy for sure. Those acts of kindness are coming from children too!  They are not going unnoticed either.  I know while I’m two days home from surgery, husband & I will be watching five open gifts, sent with love. This is a beautiful thing. We are working on thank you cards now. Hoping to get out in January.

For Christmas I’d like to put this portion of the nightmare behind me. I know with recovery & treatments, there will be a whole new hellish experience, of which I’m not so sure I’m ready to embark. I want this fucking cancer out….so ready or not here I go. I am so grateful Santa is hooking me up with new boobs….cancer free silicone boobs are all the rage these days. Or so I hear.

Sidenote–The number of my friends who’ve been telling me they’ve been mammo’ed recently is awesome ! Keep it up ladies!! I had no idea that little fucking lump I felt 37 days ago was cancerous & there were four fucking more! Check your boobs. Have your partner check for you. Feel a boob….Save your life….

Erm….Disrobe, Completely?

Fucking nude during surgery?
The fuck?
You’re taking my tit’s.

At least spare me the decency & allow me to keep my babyslide covered.. Fucksake man. I know you gotta be sterilized and shit– but can’t you can spray me down with lysol & fabreeze before surgery, no?

I know in 6 days when I get up on the table at 1:30 all modesty will be discarded…..Surgery at 3:30 pm….They’ll put meds in my veins to knock my nervous crying ass out. Then do their thing….I’ve never had an actual surgery. Watching M.A.S.H. & Nurse Jackie none of those patients flipped out about having to be nude. They doctor’s were all drunk & high and hardly any of their patients died….So I got that going for me.

It’s enough I’m losing my boobs after so many years with them. All the up & downs, spills, cries, lopsided days, captured snacks with my bra meals for my children, awkward seatbelt position….Ah I could go on. Oh boob, you scamp! Just give me a pair granny panties or some shit.

The double mastectomy and reconstruction should take 3.5 hours [if all goes to plan] then I’ll be onto recovery approximately 8pm….The mom in me is thinking how late in the evening this will be for a five year old to be running around the hospital with my older manchildren and husband. That gets me weepy. Crazy right. I have cancer. All I can think is how this is going to fuck everyone else’s schedule up…..Breathe Tara….Relax Tara….It’ll be okay Tara….We have no family nearby. So he will be running around hospital with us, just as he did when we lost Jackson.

Not the best place for a child. But you do what you have to do. Right?  Then there’s that fucking guilt again. Mom guilt? Not sure. I feel selfish knowing they’ll be there waiting for me so late in evening. The mind is a dangerous thing kids. It takes you places you totally don’t need to go. I know those thoughts are silly. Most importantly my family wants me cancer-free. They don’t give a fuck what time of day this occurs. Neither should I.


6 days till showtime kids