Thursday, April 28, 2011
I have been in remission from breast cancer for over four years now. I honestly don’t think about " the how long" much. I don’t have huge celebrations; in fact birthdays even kinda slip past me too. I have never been a looking backwards kind of girl, instead I am always moving forward, a pressing on kind of girly girl is more like it. I guess you could say this kind of crazy thinking insured my daily mental survival during my initial diagnosis of breast cancer, treatment and follow up care.
I have only one picture of my bald head and one of me ringing out of chemo. Most of the pictures during my battle with breast cancer show everything in between really. I never actually slowed down; in fact I think maybe I pushed the gas pedal a little too hard if we are going to keep it real! Honestly I wish I had more photos from those days so I could share them with you, to remember. Maybe if I had stopped to celebrate each and every victory I would have more pictures to share, but I was so busy living, making memories I didn’t stop to think I was missing anything. Instead I was worried I wasn’t moving fast enough! I sometimes see the pictures of my radically, awesome fellow sister survivors during their journeys, you know the ones I am talking about...pictures of “the hair cut”, chemo treatment or following surgery… and I think I might have gotten a little lost in the process, maybe a bit forgotten while I was inadvertently trying to be Mighty Woman for my family and friends. On the other side of this coin, maybe because I was so busy, giving myself no time to slow down I was able to avoid the big time fear waiting on the outskirts of our camp trying to consume me.
Now this does not mean I did not have moments of pure panic, because believe me they were there, just usually behind the scenes, just under the surface. My husband can attest to my meltdowns, my feelings of inadequacy and those infamous why me moments. I have been asked so many times how I have managed to keep my chin above water; well the truth is everything else from the nose down was completely soaked! I was just blessed to have found a snorkel just in case and a rock to stand on! The thing is each person handles stress, fear and staring death in the face differently. What works for one person, may not work for another but there is a common thread, we all share, a friend who connects each one of us to the other and her name is Hope.
I can tell you right now, and many of you may already know this about me… I was not a wig girl. I was one of those bald heads, bandanna tied around my bare naked skull kind of gals. I was just not an eeny meeny mo type but the truth is I started my married life that way. I loved to dress up, put the makeup on, and throw a bow in my hair, the whole nine yards and then some. But becoming a mom changed all that for me. I became more comfortable in jeans, a t-shirt and a pony tail, then after having my breast whacked off and my hair fall out I just got over the whole glamor thing all together honestly. Not that I don’t like the idea of being a fashionista, because I do but it just didn’t fit my lifestyle. I was in no way shape or form going to become a cancer fashinoista regardless of what they were selling at the cancer boutiques, not in my chemo lifetime that is!
Being able to be a red head today after being a brunette yesterday knowing I could be a blond tomorrow was just too much for my mind to juggle. I was and always will be an oddly designed, yet perfectly happy misfit. I felt cancer was well cancer, a parasite killing me off inside, so why hide it? I did buy a few wigs, and I tried them on, but man they were itchy and sweaty and well uncomfortable. I guess in my mind I figured cancer was already enough of a pain, so why make it any easier on her?
The thing about going this route was it made me a bigger target, not in a hunt you down, king of the hill and declare victory, take the trophy home kind of way. No it was more subtle than that. What it did was bring attention to the fact cancer is not some hush, hush, quietly shove it away, wrap it up in a box and forget “it” exists kind of problem. No, cancer is a bigger than life, get in your face, tear down her walls, shout it to the world, hear me roar, I am still rocking, do not tread on me kind of a package! Without meaning to I forced people to deal with Cancer, Breast Cancer no less and it made some very uncomfortable to say the least.
In the end I think knowing I was NOT invincible, that I could trip and fall; skid past the finish line bruised and battered actually spurred me on. Crazy right, I know but understanding I could feel life, reach out and touch it, embrace all it offered, both the good and bad, the beautiful and the ugly made living with cancer manageable for me. I knew no matter what happened tomorrow, I had lived today. Tomorrow, even yesterday could not compare to the life I was living in that one moment because it was bigger than any other celebration I could have made room for in my cancer filled, chemo infused, and bald inspired way of life.
So when you are faced with a reality check such as I was in 2006, hearing the words breast cancer, whether you are a cancer fashionista or an odd ball like me, take a moment to stop and grab hold of today, not tomorrow, not yesterday but this very living, breathing moment. Realize the chaos surrounding you is still going to be there tomorrow, it’s all in how you decided to look at it.
I know you hear the flood waters coming, feel the pressure building, see the water rising but my question is what are you going to do? I’ll tell you what you are going to do friend, you are going to grab your snorkel and make sure you have a rock beneath your feet , swept away bandanna or supper glues wig on your head or not! The water may reach your chin or it may even wash over the top of your head but keep steady my friend the water will recede and when it does if you have managed to keep your snorkel in place, you will find hope sitting on the shore waiting for you to join her! I know I did….
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Have you ever watched the old movie, ‘I Married an Ax Murder’? No I am not making a parallel to my marriage and a crazy, ax carrying lunatic running around chopping at the air! But the fact Johnny and I do mentally walk around with axes in our hands, slashing at such a vial villain as the pink beast on a daily basis does cross my mind! This movie dances into my thoughts sheerly based on the title, and the memories it brings back to me some 15 years after Johnny and I tied the knot.
On April 27, 1996 I married my soul mate, Johnny, the love of my life just six months into our whirlwind romance on a late beautiful breezy spring afternoon. Our wedding, an outdoor ceremony was held under the canopy of vast large oak trees, with the scent of roses and lavender tickling our noses. Of course, as in any good love story there were ups and downs, upsets, laughter, and a few who said it would never last. I remember being asked the question, “Christina come on, you haven’t even known him very long how do you know he’s not an ax murder? “ I can bet you he heard much of the same too. I can even imagine many of our friends becoming temporary bookies, taking bets coordinating the odds for and against us. Fortunately for Johnny and I, no one actually collected on any of those “I give ‘em one year tops” bets. After 15 years, two wonderful children, countless medical bills, our on again, off again sanity, the loss of a job and my own battle with breast cancer I would say we have defied those odds!
Now I understand why some may have scoffed, simply not believing in love at first sight or placing bets on the ax under the pillow scenario. Personally I really don’t buy the whole, swept off your feet in one glance, slip a glass slipper on my foot daydream one bit either. If I am going to be completely honest with you I would say “those types” are few and far in-between. Seriously how can two complete strangers know the moment they meet, the very second they lock eyes on one another they’re in love…really? I am almost positive, mama warned me about days like these, seriously isn’t that the stuff of fairytales and what not? You know the land of far, far away, as in never finding it? I don’t know about you but I may have grown up on tales of castles, finery, romance, love at first sight and happily-ever-after but I certainly didn’t whole heartily grow up to believe with any certainty I would or could ever find a real life ‘off into the sun set’ kind of love.
Now with all that said, I want you to understand I do believe two souls can and many times do recognize one another from the moment they cross be it in the middle of the night, over the phone, via the internet or as in Johnny and I’s case the paper. From the first whispered hello I can’t help but believe our souls recognize they are meant for each other. I absolutely subscribe to the crazy notion, and yes I have the nerve to believe souls mates, kindred souls are more than fanciful terms for true love. This was the case with Johnny and I. We didn’t need years to fall in love madly; we were already connected, in a way we truly did not even understand at the time ourselves. Our souls truly fused from the moment we met. Yes we really did experience some sort of a silly symphony, you know the kind, “how do I keep from tripping over my feet to be next to you “kind of moments, just like everyone else. But I will warn if you think we were bosom buddies every day, all day long one, without a “please stand clear of the doors Por favor ” moment, then you are greatly mistaken my friend. Believe me when I say we have had plenty of those days right from the word go. What I do know is this: whatever forces may have been against us they were not strong enough to keep us apart! Our souls connected without a doubt; on such a deep, life altering level… immediately, we were helpless to do anything but collide. This same ridiculously radically infused force which screamed “SOUL MATES” while singing it to the tune of Soul Man also made sure to navigate us to the alter where we said I do, just some six months later.
Jump ahead almost 10 years down the road….
We were still singing “Soul mates” and yes to the tune of “Soul Man” with our sunglasses on and suave hats upon our heads. What we didn’t see coming, the reality that hit us when we weren’t looking, the fact there wasn't supposed to be any kind of cancer in our fairytale, especially not breast cancer, knocked those sunglasses and hats right off our heads!
Come on, when you think of the ideal women, walking down the aisle or dancing cheek to cheek with her prince in a gorgeous, cleavage revealing gown you don’t envision her lope sided now do you? Sure you may think padded bras but surely not missing boobs! The down and dirty truth came crashing into our world dissolving our once perfect picture of happily ever after just six months (we have a thing for six months don’t we?) after Johnny and I bought, signed and sealed the deal on our first home. The ink had barely dried when Johnny and I watched the beast walk through our door, coming for our life, the one we had carved out together only 9 years and 9 months after we said “I do” putting our vows to the real test, “in sickness and in health”. I have to tell you having breast cancer invade our lives in the peak years of our young marriage turned out to be a bit surreal of a situation, honestly. I mean what do breasts have to do with anything right? Why do we need them anyway? Come on what man really wants to see cleavage or bouncy bundles of womanly form when his bride walks down the aisle or gives him a ‘come hither ‘look anyway? Truth be told boobies do make the bride to some degree, but boobs do not complete a woman. Sadly, like it or not, ta ta’s, boobs, boobies or whatever you like to call them do play apart in how we see women don’t they?
So instead of planning for a grand 10th Wedding anniversary party in our new home, in our newly constructed castle, we found ourselves falling down the royal stairs, backwards, head over heels as cancer tried to break us. Cancer put her best foot forward to cut us off at the core. She dug her foot into who we were not just as a Mr. and Mrs. or King and Queen of the new castle we were living in but made her best attempt to split us apart as soul mates! I would have gladly lost my glass slipper on the way home from any ball; instead I had the privilege of losing my breast before my fairy godmother could sing bippity boppity boo and turn my pumpkin into a royal coach! Instead of dancing with my prince (no not charming, but still my prince all the same) at the ball Johnny and I were left running, dodging heart shaped spears while the Red Queen screamed, “Off with her breast” literally! It was as if Cinderella’s step mother had joined forces with the Red Queen of Hearts rolling into town leaving our world as we knew it upside down, tangled in calamity.
Who knew when I married my husband; becoming Mrs. Johnny O, at the age of 22 we would be facing breast cancer? I certainly didn’t but our love was forged stronger by the mere existence of those two words. My husband loves me just the way I am, lope side and all! If you ask him he’ll tell you he is in love with a one boobed, bent tiara, goofy, tangled up, pieced and broken, glued back together again, pink wearing breast cancer survivor, so not a princess in training! Johnny, has stood by my side not just through the initial diagnosis of this thing they call triple negative breast cancer, but a mastectomy, chemotherapy, a hysterectomy and all the other non sense cancer has brought our direction. At 32 years old, I was suddenly staring into the mirror, mirror on our wall wondering if I could still be Johnny’s fairest of them all.
So you’re asking yourself, what in tarnation is she going on about now, right? Yep, she’s lost it; need to recycle that bent tiara on top of her head for sure this time. Love at first sight really Christina? Come on, chemo must have destroyed more than you realize… love and the test of time…please! Christina, what makes you think your love story is “all that” girl? Well it’s not all that and bag of gum honestly, it’s actually a pretty average, run of the mill love story. I agree, no fireworks over head, no dove release or balloons flying up, up and away. So what makes our love story so note worthy, outside of sitting down for dinner with the Mad Hatter every night? Well it’s special to me; it’s unique to us, as each relationship should be because in spite of the loss of a breast, the endurance of chemo and now the uncertainty of remission Johnny still stands tall beside me, my knight in shining armor… even if it is bent in a few places here and there.
Our love story is a simple one, nothing too mushy or complicated but a story which has withstood the test of time, a real life fairytale filled with drama, struggle, romance, loss and love beyond measure. If I was given the opportunity today to say, “I do” one more time (yes even in a princess gown with a sparkly new tiara) knowing what we do now I would jump on board that band wagon, bells ringing and all falling down the stairs hand in hand, head over heels just to be able to lay next to my husband, my Johnny, for just one more night.
Today, 15 years after we first said, “I do”, I celebrate this deep hunk-a, hunk-a burning love I still have for my soul mate. No he didn’t turn out to be an ax murdered or a flash in the pan, no our love turned into something amazing and radically crazy. Right here, right now I wish my husband a wonderful anniversary and pray for many, many more to come!
~Christina (or should I say Mrs. Johnny O)
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Is this the end of Wonder Woman? Has she turned in her golden lasso, cuffs and her cape? Is there a reason she’s sitting on the rocks, boots off rubbing her feet? Seriously this is not the gracefully tough super power charged woman we are used to seeing right?
We all have times in our lives when we feel alone, even abandoned while surrounded by people. It could be we find ourselves in a dark place, wondering who turned out the lights asking ourselves where everyone went. In my own experience it’s not one thing which inevitably causes our house of cards to fall, its multiple, facades of things we are trying to juggle. When I think about my world closing in its generally because I’ve set myself up for the whole camel, moving along happily until someone places one last straw on my back scenario. Life is unpredictable, and we never know which straw will be the last to send us careening into a sand dune or better yet a palm tree right in front of us.
Maybe we are just having a bad day, possibly a long week which has turned into a full blown break down of our own wits! We may feel as if no one sees the sand trap we have fallen into or the hyena steadily gnawing on our arm while we frantically scream, “Hello. I’m not dead yet!” Life can sometimes be very disheartening if we let it be. If I am going to be honest with you, to continue wearing my heart on my sleeve as I do each and every day I have to let you in on a little secret of mine…last week came very close to becoming my complete undoing. Yes, I fell apart, completely to pieces, unable to sweep them up fast enough to super glue myself back together again! I also lost my pink cape somewhere in my flight path along with my super human powers which brought me crashing straight to the ground! Talk about a rude awakening. I finally ended my week by doing what I rarely do… retreating.
After dusting off the dried mud, surveying for and making sure I had no real damage I pulled myself up. I guess I could have continued to sit on my butt right where I landed, but what good would that have done? I will not deny I cried, like a baby I might add, even laying there for a moment or two, pushing my tears away in disgust feeling rather sorry for myself letting my raw emotions fall out of my perfectly packed concealed bag in a fashion as such. Let’s just say I was dismayed to put it bluntly, how could I have fallen from the sky above without a cause? Who could have ripped my cape away in mid flight? Well it was more of a tangled mess of getting caught up in the turbulence around me to be honest.
The problem with wearing a cape, trying to buzz around like you are invincible is that you are NOT invincible! No matter how hard you may try to be super woman, wonder woman or even elastic girl you cannot jump over buildings, lasso the truth out of people or bend yourself to everyone’s needs. It is just not possible. What is possible …is allowing yourself to bend, but not break, to open your heart up to being bruised without being torn in two and to be the best non super human caped being you can be.
The reality is I am one person, with more flaws than you can shake a stick at, hang ups my husband wouldn’t mind listing for you, and imperfections my kids would first and second at the same time. Seriously there are times I see the “is she serious, where’s the door” kind of dear caught in headlights look coming from those who suddenly feel they have entered the “Christina Charisma Zone”. Sure I have a little too much zeal and over flowing passion which at times can be misunderstood, taken by some as a “whoa Nelly”, get me out of here kind of moment, especially , bless their hearts, the ones who get too close to the flames of my exuberance! The deep down nitty gritty truth is I am just human. I fall, I fail and at times react too strongly, emotionally, letting my heart get the best of me.
What drives me, even when I am sitting with my boots off, massaging my sore feet is that I have this vision, a dream, a deep set hope, and an inspirational idea of what a world WITH breast cancer actually can be until we can do more than imagine a world WITHOUT it. One day we will find a cure, I have no doubt about it. We will put breast cancer to rest, cheer for the end of her reign but until that time comes my personal experience with her tentacles guides my vision. I am loud because I know so many including myself have fallen through the cracks along the way. Why start Christina's Breast Friends? What can we do that someone else is not currently doing? Well we can make this journey through the endless pink ribbons more intimate; bringing hope to a personal, emotional healing level, not some kind of idea, but a real, life altering experience. Offering the " put your boots back on, hold on to your hat" kind of support to those coping with a breast cancer diagnosis. This is my vision, the real deal and our hope as an infant organization.
A long time ago, in a land far, far away I was called to ministry. I might have been a child then, but I knew what I was called to do, to be. Now having breast cancer has not only brought my vision but also my passion into greater focus. The bottom line, the end page of this chapter is none of us are guaranteed tomorrow. We can choose to dwell on where and when death will come for us or we can choose to rise up from the ashes. We can make a conscious decision to let the brightly weaved cape go, to stop worrying about power or control over things our lives will never be able to lasso into submission. I can say without a doubt after staring death in the face I am very aware of how close she lurks to my sewn on shadow but I'm also very aware death has no hold on me as long as I am free to live or die trying!
This last week has been rough I can't lie ( I'm a non super hero after all). The truth is I have been in a fog, spinning my wheels, trying to overcome sickness and a few extra hurdles thrown my way causing me to retreat a little bit. I have worried how things will come together, where the money is going to come from, will we make this adventure of ours a success. I have fallen flat on my face, hurting my pride, overwhelmed, bewildered and yet at the end of the week, when the final day has come to an end, the truth is a brand new week is already beginning. A new hope has begun filtering in, filled with new concerns, yet wonderful opportunities, all ready for the picking so to speak, if I will just get up off my bum.
So I have come to the conclusion my cape is a “has been”, torn to shreds, sitting over in the corner. My super human powers have fled, leaving me vulnerable and I am pretty sure there’s kryptonite sitting in the room somewhere too. BUT, I have learned this week I am OK with just being me. Simply Christina, rolling up my sleeves, ready to work harder than ever before to make a difference in the lives of those who need it the most. I do not know where you stand, and I would not push anyone over a cliff with me just to have someone available to scream with me during the long fall down, let’s face it what good would that do? Maybe the trick is to leave someone up at the top of the cliff with a rope, ready to pull me back up after I have reached the bottom. Kinda makes sense huh? All I can ask of you, each of you, my friends and my family, my fellow bloggers, facebook buddies, Christina’s Breast Friends fans is this: reconsider the cape you may have fastened around your neck as well. Don’t let it take you off guard, pulling you backwards, again over the cliff as I did earlier this week. Yep I’m asking you to grab your boots, lace ‘em up and get ready to jump on board with me, take the plunge when you are ready because together we can send this beast packing…
The truth is at the end of the day Wonder Woman may certainly be sitting back , resting on the rocks she’s fallen on with her boots off, rubbing her feet but come tomorrow she will be back on her feet springing into action, just minus the cape!
Friday, April 22, 2011
We have all heard the old saying, when life hands you lemons, make lemonade. Well what happens when life hands over the deed to a lemon tree grove? You get busy opening up a lemonade stand is what you do! That’s exactly how I see this journey breast cancer has led me on. Not much you can do when you have lemons taking over your life right?
Well you can do something more than juggle lemons around and that’s a fact. Life can seem crazy, out of control and at most points in our day largely overwhelming. But just because life may appear beyond our control does not mean we do not have a say in how we slice and serve up those sour lemons it’s presented us with. The key is to size them up and to figure out how you are going to put them to work for you! The thing is you're not going to get around them, it's all in how your plan makes use of them in your life!
Now when cancer came knocking on my door it was not the first time life had shown up with a basket full of lemons. Life had banged on my door with sour fruit long before breast cancer had signed over the deed to this grove of extraordinary tart infused craziness. As a child and into my adult years I was faced with many chronic illnesses. I have dealt with everything from diabetes over the last 30 years, to Bell’s palsy and a mini stroke but still I have found there is a subtle sweetness which we can find just under the peel of life if we are willing to just bite down.
Lemons aren’t necessarily on my list of favorite top 10 fruit to eat, so having more than one lemon tree in my life is a bit of an overkill really but I have found they can add sweetness and flavor to many of my favorite dishes or beverages. Yes, the juice can sting, especially if you have any little bitty cut on your hands, making it painful to work with those silly lemons life has brought home to you. Yet we all know lemons can create some of the best combinations we have ever experienced too. See once you have squeezed all the sour, tart, yet wonderful juice out of those lemons in your hands you find you have a wonderfully transformed concoction before you.
It’s all about perspective… you can see a grove of sour lemons in front of you or you can see a means to a large scale lemonade stand! Personally, I have chosen to make this grove of lemons my home, I have built my life around them. Sometimes they bring me pain and other times they offer me a clear perspective on my life and the blessings which surround it. I have also learned to carry around a bit of sugar with me too, just in case I need to sweeten the deal a bit. I have also found that no matter where I go, as far away from this grove as I possibly can, my home is still inside this lemon tree grove. I have in spite of the stress or the ultimate outcome of owning the deed to an out of control wild lemon tree grove found my family is at the center of who I am and they are OK with the lemon pies, lemonade, and lemon drops we feast upon on a regular basis. Together, we have pruned and harvested the fruit around us, sometimes with apprehension and other time with awe.
Either way, lemons are not always a bad thing. I am personally glad I have been given the deed to this place, I see hope here, possibility within these borders, upon these branches. Sure there may be fences to mend from time to time, trees to prune, fruit to pick and droughts to deal with but in the end it’s what you do with the life you are given , lemons or not! So friend, what are you going to do with this new deed life is waiting to hand over to you? Are you going to take life’s lemons by the bushel full’s, grab up the over following baskets around you and turn it into something extraordinary or are you going to let those lemons turn you sour? It’s all about choice and perspective my friend. Do you smell the sweet, subtle struggle in the air…its opportunity my friend, that's what it is. I'll tell you what, I can guarantee I have a few great recipes back at the grove house for you! Come on, we can turn this new adversity into something pretty amazing if you are willing.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
I am so excited to tell you Christina’s Breast Friends has been officially approved by the great state of Texas! Our next step is to acquire our tax exempt status from the IRS in the next few months.
We have also launched a brand new flash website, making it more interactive, easier on the eyes and very colorful! Please check it out and let me know what you think. You can find it right here at Christina's Breast Friends
Check us out, see what were up to, what we're about and how you can get involved as well!
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
I wonder how many “little girls” dreamt of the ‘one boobed, pink, boobie, eating monster’ when they were growing up. Let me tell you: not in my dream world, filled with tiaras, adventures leading me around the world or trees which were made for climbing! I had no clue whatsoever about Pink Monsters, hiding up in trees, ready to pounce and devour my boobies one day! If I had I may have seen my world a little differently. Come on, how many times did you even think about cancer as a child, especially breast cancer? Did you wake up one morning thinking about losing your boobies as a grown up, or were your thoughts about growing them in as a teenager?
Let me fill you in: the One Boobed, Pink Boobie Eating Monster exists! He is a bit sneaky, luring you into his camp of beautiful, round boobies. Before you know it, you’re exercising, chanting, “I must, I must, I must increase my bust!” Picking out sexy lacey bras and imagining how these works of art might look if they were just a little bigger, maybe even a tad smaller for some, but either way, boobies are a rite of passage for each and every little girl out there! Sadly by the time this Pink Boobie Eating Monster arrives, swinging off his perch tackling you to the ground, you’re a one boobed woman!
Now let me say, I am just fine living as a one boobed, pink wearing, loud mouth shouting, monster hunting machine! Seriously, this is not a problem for me, but I do still have moments when I miss my boobies, as in both of them still attached to my chest, big, beautiful, round and stuffed inside a two cupped bra! Yes, I miss my boobies; after all I was attached to them quite literary! That is until this monster decided I or rather my boobs, would be a tasty addition to his morning meal!
I have been a fighter from the start, digging into the heart of this monster, not allowing his poisonous claws, or jagged teeth to hold me back, to hold me down any longer than the time it took him to rip my breast away from me. But I do have those days, when I face the mirror, mirror on my wall, longing to see both my boobies still in front of me. Facing the scars everyday can become very normal, part of the daily routine, but sometimes, in those brief, forgetful moments, I find myself shocked not to see both my breasts, those two pieces of womanhood not starring me back in the face, together, side by side. It’s surreal honestly tracing the big, somewhat faded, 8 inch scar across my chest where a boobie used to sit. In those moments I wonder what life would be like to have them back, not to have lost them somewhere out there on the battlefield, to be able to feel my boobie inside a bra again, to see her outline under my clothing without dressing in layers. But this is not the life I was given, and truthfully not the life I would go back to but it is the life I now lead! I miss my boobie, I miss the way she felt and the way Johnny brushed up against her. Yet I know my baby, loves me just the way that I am: a one boobed, pink scared, monster hunting, breast cancer fighting oddball!
I am determined, one day; I will discover the One Boobed, Pink Bobbie Eating Monster’s camp. When this day comes, he won’t stand a chance! I will doss his fire, tear up his tent, break up his party and raise the flag of victory myself! One day we will pull him from his perch and rid him from our lives, so no more little girls will have to grow up facing this world as I do, a one boobie, one cup stuffed bra wearing, half eaten, scared, monster fighting , strange looking camper of the “Uniboob / Boobless Camp”, run by the ‘One Boobed, Pink, Boobie, Eating Monster’!
Until then, I will continue fighting, shouting, calling out, and tracking this monster. I may never feel my breast again, under my skin, she may never be a part of me literally, but I will never forget what it was like to dream, to hope and to grown into my own boobies as a teenager. So I fight, yelling "Bring it on” for all the little girls who have yet to meet this one boobed monster, and if I play my part right, they never will!