Dear Right Breast,
You and I, we’ve been together a long time. What’s it been
now? Forty-five years? The memories swirl through my mind: Our first bra,
nursing the kids, and a zillion other escapades that need not be detailed
here... Good times.
But over the past few years you’ve changed. You became
unstable and unreliable, making it difficult to discern your true intentions. A
sore lump here, a mysterious “calcification” there (or was it DCIS? I’m still
not sure). I stopped counting the number of mammograms and sonograms you drove
me to, not to mention the tears and anxiety. And things really took a dive this
year, when you went rogue on me. Let’s be honest: We both know you’ve been
trying to kill me. But cancer? Seriously? And as if that wasn’t enough, you
had to drag the nodes into this. Was that really necessary? I’ve always known
you were dense, but this is pure desperation.
So it’s over, Right Breast. You’ve had your fun. While I
will continue to enjoy life’s treasures for many years to come, tomorrow you’ll
meet your brutal end, filled with medical dissection and testing in a cold
sterile lab before being discarded for eternity. And you’ll get nothing from
me; no sympathy, and no more tears. All I have left for you are five words: Happy Amputation Day. Ta ta!
Lara
I think you really put her in her place, Lara! Keep your foot on her neck--or nip! Pam
ReplyDeleteNo words of my own but a gift of a poem, "One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop
ReplyDeleteOne Art
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.
Elizabeth Bishop
Your right breast must be male. A lady wouldn't behave that way.
ReplyDeleteLove and of course thinking of you tomorrow-- Dr. Dad
Dearest Lara,
ReplyDeleteSo lovely of you to write to me. I am sorry after all that we have been through that I want "bad" on you and let you down.
I never meant to hurt you...all of a sudden I wasn't myself anymore. I regret causing you so much pain and fully understand why I am now removed and discarded.
I leave my best pal "Leftie" to support you for decades to come.
Love,
YOUR FORMER RIGHT BREAST ("Rightie")