Finding Ninee » Sharing our parenting and special needs stories with heart and humor.

Sometimes I Stare at My Ceiling and Think About My Boobs. And Cancer.

Sometimes, late at night, when I can’t sleep, I stare at my bedroom ceiling and think about my boobs.

I think about the day when I first asked my mom for a bra, after being made fun of for my little nub-boobs. I think about how I have used my boobs, stuck them out to avoid traffic tickets in my youth, and about the wonder and horror of my milk coming in. How unexpectedly peaceful and satisfying it was to nurse my son, once I figured it out and forgave my husband for warning me that maybe they were just too damned big for my baby’s head.

I think about the desire to wean that same little boy, and my confusion of not knowing when it would be okay to do so without leaving mental scars on either one of us. I think about the times when he’s “beeped” them, unsure of his new relationship with them, once weaned.

I think about that in-between place, when my son remembers them being his, and them now being off-bounds for touching, because “private.” I think about privacy and boobs. Late at night and mid-morning, and sometimes, when I least expect it, like at book club, talking to two women who have battled (and so far won) breast cancer.

In thinking about my boobs, I wonder how old I’ll be when I may need to say “fine, cut them off.”

Late at night, I think about my boobs. I wonder when I

You see, my birth mother had a double mastectomy last year, her sister had one a few years back, her other sister had a lump removed, and their mother, my biological grandmother, died of ovarian cancer. I think about my boobs a lot, actually, and had my first mammogram this year. I paid the extra $50 to get the more complete 3D scan.

I think about cancer a lot as well. My husband’s mother lost her battle with it, as did my beloved uncle and so so too many of my friends and their relatives to begin to mention here. Some of them are fighting. Some of them are winning. Too many of them are not. Haven’t.

I know that nobody will disagree with the statement that cancer is an asshole and that it needs – sooner rather than later – to be cured already. There are billions of dollars going toward research for funding, for fighting, and for coping, as I write this. It’s still not enough.

My friend Lizzi wants to do something about it and IS DOING something about it. She’s challenging all of us to donate – now – to the cancer fund of our choice, and is offering to write whatever we want, as a return.

Brilliant. Right? Right. Write. She’s written.

I rose to her challenge, donated, and chose fiction. The following is what I received for my donation. Thank you Lizzi, for wanting to do more than the doing. Also, this is totally 10 things of thankful, yo.

All thankfuls and differences start with one. A single idea.

Blind Date

Oliver grimaced in the mirror, stretching his bottom lip up over his teeth and jutting his chin as he scraped away at four-day-old stubble with a razor which should have been replaced by now. He used his fingers to stretch his cheeks, trying not to mind that his jowels were looking distinctly wrinkled, and cursed as he cut himself for the third time.

He toweled off and applied tiny pieces of toilet paper to the cuts, watching as they snowflaked with red and stuck to his skin. At least he had shaved. At least he had done that.

Blind dates weren’t really his scene, but Larry had insisted. It was too long since there had been someone special, he had said, and Oliver was in serious danger of turning into a grumpy old git. He didn’t want to be friends with a grumpy old git, and he didn’t want Oliver to think that grumpy old gittishness was any kind of acceptable manner of living. Ergo he would shake things up.

And how! A flurry of phonecalls later, and Oliver found himself abandoning his usual Tuesday afternoon potter around the garden to go and meet ‘Miss X’ (quite why Larry was so determined to make a pantomime out of it, he would never know) at a local coffee shop. For tea.

He ran some Brylcreem through his salt-and-pepper hair, and stretched himself into a shirt, wondering whether a shirt was too formal for a meeting in a coffee shop, whether a coffee shop was really suitable for a blind date, and whether it was too late to back out. He put a pair of (plain, not fancy) cufflinks on, and gave himself a hard stare, his blue eyes stern.

“Now then, old chap. It doesn’t have to GO anywhere. It’s just a meeting. With someone new. And it will keep Larry quiet – that’s the point: not being a grumpy old git to the point where I get called on being a grumpy old git. And then I can be a grumpy old git in peace”

He grinned at his reflection, pleased to see that his smile still lit up his face, even if he rarely had occasion to use it these days.

The doorbell rang. Larry!

“Oh crikey! Well, here goes nothing, old chap. Good luck”, and nodding at himself in the mirror, he straightened his shoulders and strode out of the bathroom. When he picked up his jacket in the hall, he suddenly remembered the tissue stuck to his face, and quickly brushed them off, cursing. He opened the door to Larry, who was looking impish, in spite of his 65 years.

“You ready then, fella?”

“Nearly…”

Oliver took the cufflinks out and laid them on the table in the hall. Too formal for a coffee shop, he thought.

He shut the door carefully behind him and checked it was locked before turning to Larry, who was already halfway down the path.

“Wait up! I don’t know where I’m going!”

“You’re kidding – it’s that new one, just across from the park. It’s been there about two months now. Very posh, it is, too – artisan pastries; organic Colombian beans; poetry readings…”

Poetry readings!!!

Larry drew himself up and assumed an attitude of saint-like patience.

“Yes, Oliver – poetry readings. They’re fun and creative and full of nice, friendly people who all know that they need to get out of their house once in a while and INTERACT. Something I think you’ve almost entirely forgotten how to do. Honestly, if it weren’t for me and the fact that I’m an amazing friend who broadens your every horizon, I think you’d be quite happy to moulder away at home until you became part of the furniture.”

Oliver harrumphed in reply “I go to the pub. And I don’t do that with YOU in tow.”

Larry raised an eyebrow “Touche, old stick. Anyway, last time I went there, the locals were rather unfriendly, so you’re welcome to them. For some reason they took against me and Petey and made it their business to tell us so. Bodily.” He winced at the memory.

Oliver’s gruffness softened “I know, mate. I’m sorry about that. If it weren’t my local…” he trailed off.

“Oh, tish-tosh, old thing! It’s all in the past. And anyway, it must do you some good to know that you’re the most cosmopolitan one in there…” he winked, cheekily “…darling.”

Oliver sent his elbow into Larry’s ribs “Shaddup”, he grinned. “That’s twice today I’ve smiled, thanks to you – are you certain I need to go on this blind date to halt my registration on the Grumpy Old Git list?”

“Yes.” Larry was adamant.

They walked in silence for a while, each lost in their thoughts, Oliver’s preoccupied with trying to remember How To Do Dating. He should open doors for her; definitely, but should he pull her chair out? Offer to pay? Probably, he decided.

As they neared the town centre, Larry half-turned, and put his hand out to slow Oliver for a moment.

“Look, I know this isn’t your ideal afternoon, and that you’d rather be tending your carrots, but it is important, okay? I just want you to know that. And thanks for trusting me enough to go along with the idea.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow “What brought that on, you daft thing?”

Larry wrinkled his nose “I don’t really know how it’s going to go. I guess I’m getting vicarious butterflies in my stomach. Or something.”

Oliver smiled “You really are daft. And yes I’d rather be in my garden, but I’m doing this to shut you up, not for any other reason. After all, you’re the only good thing Lil left me, and I’m damned if I’m going to lose you because you think I’ve turned out grouchy.”

Almost the only good thing” Larry muttered under his breath as they started moving again.

The closer to town they got, the edgier Larry seemed to become, his face showing unusual strain, and a distinct lack of its usual rosiness. In fact, he looked rather drawn, and had become quieter than Oliver had ever known him. By the time they got to the coffee shop, he was almost wan.

“You sure you’re alright? Those butterflies seem to have gotten one helluva grip on you” Oliver remarked as they walked through the door.

“Ah! There she is!” Larry’s voice was falsely bright “Here already – perfect!”

Oliver stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the woman Larry was pointing to.

A younger woman with thick, blonde hair, a smart outfit, and shoes which matched her bag.

A younger woman with a pretty, nervous smile, which nonetheless lit up her face, and a wedding ring on her left hand.

A younger woman with bright blue eyes. His bright blue eyes.

Oliver’s face crumpled briefly, then turned stony. He swivelled towards Larry, his entire body stiffening, no longer obeying his brain.

“How could you do this to me? After all the things you know…after everything we’ve been through with that cheating bitch, and all the bloody aftermath…” he gestured violently towards the woman “…this is UNACCEPTABLE!” he roared, finally giving in to the storm of emotions which had overtaken him.

“I. Will. Not. Stand. For it.” He shouted, slamming his fist onto an adjacent table to punctuate each utterance.

The woman’s face fell. Larry flinched away. The other customers looked stunned, and even the barista stopped pouring, at Oliver’s outburst.

He looked around the room, suddenly aware of his surroundings.

“Show’s over, folks. I hope you enjoyed it.”

He turned on his heel and slammed out, crossing the street in such a fury that he forgot to look for traffic and swore violently as a truck swerved to avoid him, stridently honking its displeasure.

Oliver walked at top speed around the park, his mind whirling, heart pounding and breath puffing hard within his chest. How could they? How could they? He wanted to cry and shout and break things. That painful chapter in his life, which had been closed for many years now, had just been opened again, and all of the agony and mess swirled around his mind, tangling his thoughts and making it difficult to isolate any one thing in particular, other than how very angry he was.

In the end, he slowed, too many years of ‘pottering’ catching up with him. He sat down heavily on a bench and put his head in his hands, allowing his eyes to moisten in the comparative privacy of the space behind his fingers.

A pair of tentative shoes eventually appeared on the pathway in front of him, and stopped.

Oliver didn’t raise his head.

“Why did you do it, Larry? WHY? After all this time…I thought that I’d finally made peace with the past. You agreed with me before when I said that I wouldn’t see Katie again. You said I was right, and that she’d picked Lil, and that was the end of it, after what Lil did. Why on earth did you break your word?”

The shoes shuffled silently forwards, awkwardly, as though burdened, and a tiny, petal-soft touch to the top of Oliver’s head made him raise his face from his hands and look up, astonished.

The little girl couldn’t have been more than six months old, with inquisitive blue eyes and a barely-there coating of fine, white hair on her head. Her skin was perfect, with a scattering of milk-spots around her nose, and tiny, cherry-blossom lips. Her hand reached out for him again as Larry held her closer.

Oliver’s breath caught in his throat as he made eye contact with the child, and reached out his hand to touch hers. She grabbed hold of his finger tight, and immediately tried to pull it into her mouth, testing her strength as he resisted slightly before giving in and letting her have a good chew of what he hoped was a clean fingertip.

His cheeks suddenly flooded with the expenditure of all of his anger and upset, the tears displaced by wonder as he tried to take in the situation.

In his peripheral vision, Katie stepped forward, smiling that family grin. His grin.

“Dad,” she said “her name’s Olivia.”

using-writing-keep-fighting

Thanks again, Lizzi, for wanting to DO SOMETHING to help kick cancer’s ass. It matters. And, your story? Is awesome. Totally 10, right?

I am also extremely thankful for the amazing outpouring of support that you all gave when I shared something in this post that was uncomfortable and emotional. 

 

Ten Things of ThankfulYour hosts: A Fly on our (Chicken Coop) Wall, Amycake and the Dude, Considerings, Finding Ninee, Getting Literal, I Want Backsies, Mother of Imperfection, Rewritten, Thankful Me, The Wakefield Doctrine

Join the Ten Things of Thankful Facebook Group


  • zoe - Totally ten! I think there were ten in why we should be thankful for boobs never mind the thanks due for kicking cancers effing ass.November 22, 2014 – 7:51 pmReplyCancel

  • Mike - Thank you Kristi and Lizzi for your cancer awareness. I donated $20,000 to cancer this past year with results that I had not hoped for long term. It did bless me with 3 of the most magical months of my life. Never give up the fight. Love you both. MikeNovember 22, 2014 – 8:09 pmReplyCancel

    • Considerer - *hugs* Mike, you’ve done so, so much to raise awareness and funds. Together we’ll all keep fighting it.November 22, 2014 – 8:47 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - XOXO Mike…. Here’s to remembering that you got three amazing months… and huge gigantic hugs coming your way…November 23, 2014 – 7:18 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ Golden Spoons - What an amazing and creative way to encourage people to give to a wonderful and worthy cause!November 22, 2014 – 8:32 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana - I’m so glad you got that mammogram, Kristi – protect those boobies. And thank you for sharing Lizzi’s story – she is one talented and fabulous Brit.November 22, 2014 – 10:20 pmReplyCancel

    • Considerer - Ohhh bless your boots, Dana (or, in the spirit of this post and popular mis-reading of my expression, ‘bless your boobs’ (!)) thank you 🙂November 23, 2014 – 4:44 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Yeah, I actually wish we could get mammograms 2/year because a year seems too long… here’s to boobies! And to Lizzi!!! 🙂November 23, 2014 – 7:22 pmReplyCancel

  • Lizzy - Muddle-Headed Mamma - I have been thinking too, over the last few months, of the incredible journey our breasts go through throughout our lives and how quickly our attitude towards them changes once we become mothers or when that bitch Cancer comes along. I don’t have a history of breast cancer in my family, but so many people I know have either battled it themselves or love someone who is or has battled it. Some of these women are so young too. They are terminally ill with little children at home. It is just heartbreaking. I love what Lizzi is doing to fight the war against cancer. She is so proactive and talented and creative. What a beautiful person and what a beautiful mind.November 22, 2014 – 11:06 pmReplyCancel

    • Considerer - Awh thanks so much, Lizzy – that’s really kind of you to say 🙂November 23, 2014 – 4:46 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Lizzy,
      I love what Lizzi is doing too and so hear you. My next door neighbor is younger than my husband and fighting pancreatic cancer. So not fair. Something that messes with little kids and moms and young and old all alike? So not cool. xxoo to you sweets.November 23, 2014 – 7:41 pmReplyCancel

  • clark - you do realize that today is Saturday, don’t you?*
    ha
    ha

    Good Post. (go!!! breasteses!!)
    sorry, best I got at 4 am…. will try again later, this is, after all, a 2 day ‘hop.

    * I apologise for the lie, I am writing this on Sunday morning**, but I was going to write this mid-Saturday evening, but somehow, when I started to read your Post… I got, all, “oh shit this is a serious Post Kristi’s written, best save the smartass for another time…”
    and then Saturday Night stole it’s way in, a surprising, but welcome reminder of a younger time
    ** fuckin internet, all ‘record everything when it happens’ a blogger can’t rightly sneak up on a sister, with this logging in shitNovember 23, 2014 – 4:10 amReplyCancel

    • Sarah - Clark said breasteses! Snort.

      Lovely story, Lizzi.November 23, 2014 – 10:19 amReplyCancel

      • Considerer - Heheh I’d say ‘breastses’ as well, but ‘Breasticles’ or ‘BOOBIES’ is more my level 😀 And thanks.November 23, 2014 – 6:18 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Well see Clark, I can get in EARLY when somebody else writes most of my post for me. Feel free to send me something before Sunday next link up. I actually almost posted this last week to HAVE TWO but then I thought “nah. why overachieve like that?”
      HAHAH feel free to get all smartass on any of my serious posts anytime. The one before this could use some smartass comments – my stupid step daughter is knocked up and stuff… and well yeah.
      Also? I’m way too lazy to check whether it was Saturday or Sunday so feel free to lie to me about stuff like that any time. Seriously.November 23, 2014 – 7:44 pmReplyCancel

  • Catherine - Love this idea – what a good way to get people donating, and pretty unique too! Great story as well 🙂November 23, 2014 – 7:02 amReplyCancel

  • Chronicallysickmanicmother - oh i so get the worry over family medical history. what could beNovember 23, 2014 – 7:25 amReplyCancel

  • Scott - Lizzi, this is an amazing piece! I love it!November 23, 2014 – 9:38 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Me too Scott!!!November 23, 2014 – 7:48 pmReplyCancel

    • Considerer - Awwwh THANK YOU 😀 I had the most wonderful reaction from Kristi for it 🙂 I kind of love it too.November 24, 2014 – 2:42 amReplyCancel

      • Scott - Only kind of?November 24, 2014 – 10:18 amReplyCancel

        • Considerer - Mhmm but only cos I try to love people, not things 😀November 24, 2014 – 11:41 amReplyCancel

          • Scott - It’s okay to love things…so long as you don’t get carried away with it.November 24, 2014 – 1:22 pm

          • Kristi Campbell - Agree with Scott. Loving some things is okay. Like, I love my phone. It is a useful tool and I love it. I think it’s also okay to love shoes when SNOW IS COMING tomorrow. Stuff like that.November 25, 2014 – 7:31 pm

          • Considerer - I love my phone because I get to keep my far-away friends close to me through it. So really I love them – the phone is just the means.November 25, 2014 – 7:38 pm

  • Allie - Oh sweet girl, it makes me sad that you think about this – and it’s easy for me to say, “Don’t!” But that’s what I want to say. Just take care of yourself, and get your mammograms:)> Cancer does suck and I truly can’t think about it too much – because I will get serious anxiety. My annual physical/OBGYN appointments are in the same month and once I get a clean bill of health – I’m happy for about six months and then I get the anxiety itch again…until the exams:). Maybe I should switch it up where I see a doctor every six months. Oh, man, I am rambling. Happy healthy thoughts my friend.November 23, 2014 – 9:55 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Allie, I get sad that I think about this too but part of me is like “ok it’s gonna happen, so let’s just cut them off now….” ya know?? And yeah, I think we should see a doc every six months too, especially after the age of 40, AND, I think we should get free yearly MRI’s because stuff like pancreatic and liver cancer can be seen then and treated but the symptoms come too late and UGH UGH yeah I hear the anxiety… although too? Weird but I also avoid the doc. Like right now, I know I have cavities in my teeth to fill and I’m procrastinating going to get it done. SO DUMB. And now who is rambling??November 23, 2014 – 7:51 pmReplyCancel

  • Louise - Love your intro and boob thoughts – it is certainly a journey they go through and I love how you wrote it.

    As for kicking cancers ass – way to intro Lizzi and her piece – and way to add to the fight! And may you never have to reach the end of your quote.November 23, 2014 – 10:33 amReplyCancel

    • Considerer - I’ll second that statement! I hope Kristi never has to finish the quote!

      And THANKS for your encouragement here – I really enjoyed writing this for Kristi, and it’s so special that she wanted to join in with this, and so lovely 😀November 24, 2014 – 11:55 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks for liking the boob thoughts Louise! And here’s to kicking cancer’s ass!November 25, 2014 – 6:40 pmReplyCancel

  • Claudia Schmidt - So sorry that you have so much history of breast cancer in your birth family but I hope you don’t spend too many nights worrying about it, ’cause if there’s one thing cancer has taught me it’s that life is short, so don’t waste your time worrying – get out there and enjoy what you have. AND, just so you know, I had no history of BC in my family and still got it, so there you go. You might get lucky and never have to experience it. And good for you for spending the $50 for the 3D scan. xoNovember 23, 2014 – 12:28 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I’m trying to comment on your last blog post and can’t get a good connection…
      THANK YOU for your awesome comment… and here’s what I’m still trying to say on your last post:

      WOW. I hadn’t thought much about how breast cancer has affected my day to day because I’m still in a situation that means I’m obsessed by it for other reasons; my bio mom had both removed last year, my bio aunt had them both removed before then, my son’s teacher is BRCA-1 positive and had them both removed… and well, crap. I almost want “them” to take them because I am so scared 🙁
      I can’t say that it’s yet made me change my day to day other than to appreciate it so much more, knowing how fleeting life is… and crap. well thank you for writing this!!November 23, 2014 – 11:36 pmReplyCancel

  • May - I understand why you would lay in the dark and think such thoughts. That family history is pretty compelling. And now I am left to wonder if there is a mere $50 difference for the better test, how can the insurance companies ethically not see that we all are offered that test.November 23, 2014 – 3:02 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I agree! The insurance companies should pay the difference. I also think we should all get regular MRI’s but maybe I’m just being paranoid!November 25, 2014 – 6:39 pmReplyCancel

  • Sandy Ramsey - I can understand why you would lay awake at night thinking about your boobs. I would too. At least you’re being proactive with the extra screening. Good for you!
    That Lizzi….she sure can spin a tale, can’t she? I loved this. Of course, I always love her fiction pieces. And her non-fiction pieces. And her. And you.
    Good work, my friends.November 23, 2014 – 9:35 pmReplyCancel

    • Considerer - DA, I’m finding a trail of lovely comments from you all over the place today, and it’s turning my heart all sparkly and my face all smiley. Thank you so much, now and always, for your encouragement and the way you’re so enthusiastic about the things I write.

      You happify me 🙂 <3November 24, 2014 – 11:57 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I wish there was more to do with the screening and YES Lizzi can tell a great tale! I’d asked for a happy ending and got it! 🙂November 25, 2014 – 7:32 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ The Meaning of Me - I laughed and snorted out loud through all of these comments…proof that there is just a lovely little bit of immaturity in all of us! I howled at Sarah’s reaction to Clark’s “breasteses” the most.
    I’m glad you think about your boobies and that you got your mammogram – got mine, too! And I SO did the 3D thing because how awesome is that? I was worried about this mammo for some reason – can’t explain why. But all is well and I was so happy for them that I bought the girls some new bras.
    Great story, Lizzi!November 23, 2014 – 10:44 pmReplyCancel

    • Considerer - Thanks Lisa 🙂 I enjoyed writing this one. Kristi wanted a happy ending 🙂November 24, 2014 – 11:59 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - The comments are almost as good as the story, Lisa!! I mean yeah, Clark typing “breasteses” is pretty awesome… and Sarah’s reaction even BETTER!! HAHAH YAy for mammograms! Good for you (and I was worried too…. I guess I always am… feel those boobies in the shower!!! Also yay for new bras. Funny that you bought them after your successful mammogram! 🙂November 25, 2014 – 7:33 pmReplyCancel

  • My Inner Chick - Beautiful.
    Life-changing.
    Awesome.
    Amazing Post.
    This is what blogging is about 🙂 XxxxNovember 23, 2014 – 10:58 pmReplyCancel

    • Considerer - We are DOING! 😀 YES! This is what blogging’s about.November 24, 2014 – 12:00 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Yup. Totally what blogging is about. Kicking horrible shit in the ASS. Just like you’re doing…November 25, 2014 – 7:34 pmReplyCancel

  • Nina - Ooh your story had me reading, Kristi! I wasn’t expecting the end 🙂 So lovely.

    Hoping that your family history will spare you. I have two relatives who fought/are fighting breast cancer, and it’s rough.November 24, 2014 – 9:34 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks, Nina! I so hope my history will spare me as well but if not, I hope I find out that it won’t in time to just hack ’em off and be done with it… although now that I type that, I am not sure that’s how it works…November 25, 2014 – 7:35 pmReplyCancel

  • Gretchen - I can’t even begin to describe how much I love this. I was selfish and chose for Lizzi to write me a letter (which I absolutely do not regret) but I am so glad you chose for her to write a story for you! I was completely drawn in and I want to read more! Lizzi, I knew you were a talented writer, but I didn’t know you could write like THIS. A beautiful and touching story, I feel emotionally invested in Oliver already. And Olivia! I almost started crying with that last line!November 24, 2014 – 10:04 amReplyCancel

    • Considerer - Aw Gretchen, that’s such a lovely thing to say! Thank you so much. And you weren’t selfish! You JOINED IN! You DONATED! You HELPED ME KICK CANCER’S ASS. FO REAL! And that’s huge, and hugely un-selfish. And I loved writing your letter-for-real to you 😀

      I’m smiling because Kristi wanted more of this story, too. Hmmm perhaps I could make it happen one day. I have more Anitra owing at the moment. But this is lovely to know. Thank you.November 24, 2014 – 12:05 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I almost asked for a letter as well but was honestly a little curious how her happy ending (part of my “demand”) would be because so much of her fiction is scary and/or dark… and well, I was not disappointed at all!!!
      I want more of Oliver and Olivia too!!!November 25, 2014 – 7:37 pmReplyCancel

  • Tamara - I would lay awake every night, had I that family history. Heck, there’s a slight chance of heart disease and that does keep me up sometimes.
    I rise to Lizzi’s challenge!
    And what a compelling story. I had to come back to it because my a-hole cold wouldn’t allow me to keep my eyes open last night.
    Glad I came back.November 24, 2014 – 10:12 amReplyCancel

    • Considerer - Ooooh which bit of what challenge are you rising to, Tamara? I’d love to know 😀

      And thank you – I’m glad you like the story so much.November 24, 2014 – 12:06 pmReplyCancel

      • Tamara - The challenge to donate – NOW – or in my case, later today because I’m couch-bound with the worst cold ever.
        I’m thinking of doing something along the lines for a childhood friend who has a two-year-old with a rare brain tumor.November 24, 2014 – 12:20 pmReplyCancel

        • Considerer - Oh bless your boots for doing that. And it sounds like you’ve got a really good cause to donate to. What an awful situation for your friend to be in 🙁 I hope the fundraising is sufficient to help her kid.

          *grins* I didn’t just challenge, though – I offered writing in return for the donation, so…let me know if you want anything. I love that you’re so willing to participate anyway, but the offer’s there.November 24, 2014 – 12:34 pmReplyCancel

          • Tamara - I’m totally considering the offer! I just have to get off the couch first.. I’ll let you know!November 24, 2014 – 5:27 pm

    • Kristi Campbell - Yeah. It’s hard, that stuff that keep us up at night and you should SO do Lizzi’s challenge! You’ll love it and weep to having an asshole cold. I hope you’re way better now!!!November 25, 2014 – 7:38 pmReplyCancel

  • Brittnei - Lizzi is such a good writer. This was excellent! I loved your speal about your boobs, too. JR weaned at 27 months and it has only been about 4 months since then so I’m in the beeping phase haha. It’s been a little strange with him not nursing, but I’m getting used to our cuddles without him nursing. He still searches to feel my boobs and he just pats them and says “boo boo” and then lays his head on me. 🙂November 24, 2014 – 11:26 amReplyCancel

    • Considerer - Awh JR’s so cute. We had a giggle yesterday when Neff measured his height against me and was discovered to be ‘half a boob’ tall.

      And thank you 🙂 I’m glad you enjoyed the story so much 🙂November 24, 2014 – 12:08 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I agree, Brittnei! Thanks too for loving my speal about my boobs! HAHA to being in the beeping phase. I hate to tell you but it’ll maybe last a while… I think it’s them remembering that they used to have free access. I did “baby led weaning” with Tucker, so he directed when he was ready to be done (which I think is the kinder, gentler, more nature-way of doing but also would have cut that shit off if he’d been like four years old or whatever that Time magazine chick’s kid was) and it worked really well. AWWW to him just laying his head on you! Kids are so awesome. What we sacrifice with our bodies for them is just inspiring… and I’m shudding up because I know Lizzi wants this part of sacrifice more than anything and I’d never want to sound like I’m complaining – I’m not..

      And YES, she kicks ASS at writing and cancer fighting!!November 25, 2014 – 8:03 pmReplyCancel

  • Michele - Thank you to both Kristi and Lizzi for joining in the fight against this dreadful disease, and adding to the stock of beautifully written pieces as you do it. My 7-year cancerversary is on Sunday, and although I’m in good health, it’s never far from my mind, so it means so much to have you collaborating like this! Kristi, I hope and trust that your vigilance will keep you in good health, and Lizzi, I’d love to read more of this story!!November 25, 2014 – 10:31 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Michele! Your 7-year cancerversary is on SUNDAY??? Wow, sweets!! Please tell me that you’re celebrating HUGELY!!! I hope that they just figure out how to get this stuff out of us sooner and have a hard time not wanting to beg for an MRI yearly… but thanks, and I agree that I want more of this story…November 26, 2014 – 7:32 pmReplyCancel

  • Elizabeth - Wonderful post! Honest, direct, delightful. Love the story!November 25, 2014 – 10:48 amReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - Have you been holding out on getting a boobs mashed? With family history I’ve been getting them since I was 35. With two re-screens, my boobs have been mashed TEN TIMES. The apprehension is always the same but it could be me because I’m no better than when I get my teeth cleaned and I wait for them to say no cavities.

    The first time my brother beeped me, we were still taking baths together. They were nubs and that was my last bath with him. LOL!

    Loved Lizzi’s story – she’s got skills!November 26, 2014 – 6:09 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I was holding out and I know I know I know (I am horrible about doctors and dentists) but I did get my first this year and will go all the time. Also, last time dentist? Got the cavity alert and haven’t been in to have them filled because I’m a CHICKEN!!! I’m impressed you’ve been getting the boobie mashing for like YEARS!!!November 26, 2014 – 7:40 pmReplyCancel

  • Roshni - A beautiful post by both of you!!November 26, 2014 – 11:37 pmReplyCancel

  • Chris Carter - Okay- FIRST of all- Kristi, would do me the honor of getting tested for the BRCA genetic mutation? Please? Pretty Please? Your generational history screams that you may have the mutation, which in itself is scary, I know. BUT- it will save you. Please? For me? For Precious Tucker? It’s just a simple blood test… or perhaps have your mom or her sister take the test and then see their results and find out if you may have the potential.

    Next..
    Oh LIZZI this is AMAZING!!! I just KNEW the story would have some amazingly beautiful and tear soaking ending!! Oh, you are SO gifted!!! Ya done good, as always my love. REAL good.December 2, 2014 – 11:26 pmReplyCancel

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