Bucket of boobs

So went to collect my treatment plan and found out I was wrong . Well wrong ish there is an iddy biddy tumour of 4 mm but also a 3 cm one as well. Awww a mummy and baby tumour!

What does that mean? It means no lumpectomy for me! I get the whole mastectomy. So I shall strap my self in for the exciting ride ahead.

As the conversation unfolded it became more and more fun and so much more exciting. I always have such a giggle with the staff.

Turns out I can have reconstruction at the same time and they can use my body tissue …. best bit…..they can take it from my abdomen! Yay a boob job and tummy tuck for free… I know people who have paid a fortune for this kind of surgery. Not only that but are often judged for their vanity … I get a new me and lots of sympathy support and attention.

Ethical question… I am down to see my plastic surgeon next week … are we ok with plastics ? Should they be cosmetic surgeons only as plastic is so terribly bad for the environment? I digress ( I often digress apologies)

Title to today’s blog ? Well remember I am an acquired taste.

I have oft wondered what happens to all the boobs that get chopped off. I envisage a big yellow plastic tub that they are all tossed into. Imagine the squelching sound. And then I imagine someone has the job of wheeling this tub to the incinerator.

Yes I know that’s not what happens but I like my bucket of boobs image.

Apparently with the reconstruction they keep your skin which has scuppered my initial plan . Thought of preserving it Damian Hurst cow style as an object of beautiful art in formaldehyde. Maybe displayed in the hallway as a welcome for guests?

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I first found my fatty tissue lump just before my 50 th birthday present from NHS . That’s when you get a mammogram as a special treat. Was told there were no signs of cancer so left it . I’m 51 and 5 months now ( I know … I look fab don’t I? ) and it took me till September this year to decide that maybe just possibly they missed something. So my friends please rummage good and rummage hard and rummage often . The moment you spot a slight difference get it checked and insist on conclusive evidence rather than a GP’s “no I think that’s fine” comment.

Remember the more you rummage the less chance of seeing that bucket of boobs ( or balls for that matter)

And here I must credit Diane who suggested they turn the boobs into politicians , however I beg to differ I believe that’s the destiny of the ball bucket as they all talk bollocks . But I digress again.

Keep rummaging x