Angelina Jolie Made The BRCA Community Proud

As a carrier of the mutant BRCA1 gene myself, the announcement of Angelina Jolie's double mastectomy and BRCA1 status made me and my fellow BRCA carriers almost giddy with excitement. We were given the gift of now having a powerful, "high profile" voice in our fight to make gene testing and prophylactic surgeries the first line of defense in surviving aggressive...often deadly...hereditary cancers. 
I keep thinking back 8 years ago. I had just turned 35 years old. I knew my family history of breast and ovarian cancers on my father's side...and I inquired about the new genetic test for BRCA. But...because those cancers were on my Dad's side...I was denied the test. 
You all know what ultimately happened...at the age of 39, I was diagnosed with an extremely aggressive and somewhat rare subtype of breast cancer called "Triple Negative". Had I have been tested for BRCA all those years ago...and been able to do exactly what Angelina is doing...I would be sitting here today as a "Previvor" instead of as a "Survivor". A survivor who will constantly live in fear of a recurrence or a metastasis. BRAVO to her for "coming out"! She has made the BRCA community VERY PROUD ♥


click here to read why>>>>>>Angelina Jolie made the BRCA community proud

click on these two links to understand a bit more   >>>>>what you should know... 

                                                                               >>>>>>>>> A great article in USA Today

click here to see what Angelina forgot to mention >>>>>>What should have been highlighted more...

So. He reaches across the table and his sleeve pulls back...WHAAAAAT??!! 

My husband went out and got a tattoo yesterday!!!! And not just any tattoo...it reads, "Live J9 Strong"...just like the hundreds of bracelets (and tee shirts) he had made when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. He told me back then when I survive to the crucial 3-year milestone, that he would get a tattoo. (and he's not a fan of tattoos, btw) So...here it is! He really did it ♥

MUST READ! MUST WATCH! MUST.MUST.MUST!!!!!!

"Rethink Breast Cancer" Presents: Your Man Reminder...

The folks at www.rethinkbreastcancer.com are friggin' GENIUSES!!! LOVE THIS!

A detour from the (up to this point) chronological flow of events

If I might interject here...yes...right here..smack dab in the middle of act one's cliffhanger...ruining the smooth transitions from one blog post to another. Upsetting the compelling flow of such an entertaining tale...(yeah right).
I mean, you're probably chomping at the bit to hear about all of the pre and post surgery drama? How about the chemo crazies? And the new boobs! (I hear they're spectacular) Oh! Oh! And the all important hysterectomy (rounding out 2010 on a high note, of course).
Easy there, my eager beavers! If you haven't already noticed...

I DON'T FEEL LIKE WRITING RIGHT NOW...

But when I do...I'll be back.

And, thank you for reading my blog...or whatever you wanna call this.

I do hope that my random ramblings, links, photos and "self absorbed" walks down my "memory lane" have helped somebody out there. At the very least, I hope you found something to be even a tiny bit entertaining, educational, or motivational :)

I Love Big Foobs and I Cannot Lie...

March 1, 2010 (part two...or...two soon-to-be-amazing "parts" ;)

I cannot tell a lie...I love big "foobies" (fake boobies). I have always been a huge admirer of them...and working for Hooters, I saw (and poked at) more than my fair share. There were hard ones, squishy ones and super perky ones...far apart ones, close together ones and dangly ones. There were foobs the size of softballs, cantaloupes, soccer balls, watermelons and giant blow up beach balls. And then there were those masterpieces of faux excellence...the lovely, realistic, silicone, under-the-muscle, teardrop style breast perfections that had become my most favorite of the implant varieties.

Scared Straight

March 1, 2010 (part one...)

There's nothing quite like a breast cancer diagnosis to make you feel like you're guest starring in a "Scared Straight" reality show...only, this program didn't offer the yummy excitement of craft services and luxury accommodations. If that would've been the case, I could have at least whispered to you that I giggled a little bit from the tickle of the mic cord being dropped inside my shirt. Indeed, the show I was in had all the bright lights and the big cameras, but they were the giant beasts that lurked in the corners of the many stark exam rooms...and I was the nervous,  reluctant starlet...paralyzed with stage fright.

February 28, 2010

It was obvious that I had become obsessed with my new book collection. Over the course of a day and 1/2, I think I got up to go to the bathroom twice, ate next to nothing (which is unheard of) and...as the bags under my eyes professed...got much less than half a wink of shut eye. As far as my self imposed research was concerned, I probably bit off a lot more than I should have chewed that weekend.

To "send" or not to "send". That is the question...

I sat motionless, staring blurry-eyed through the computer screen as if it were a psychedelic, velvet, Magic Eye painting...but the only image I was seeing was the one of my life rushing by. My back had assumed the usual hunched-over-the-keyboard-posture. The weight of my head was supported by my left arm...elbow perched atop the desk, while my hand was squishing my left cheek up in to my temple. My right hand was on the mouse...the index finger was one quick click away from spewing the announcement of my disease out in to the universe.

Guess what everybody? I have cancer!

If I wasn't so religiously confused (a perfect phrase that I've adopted from a very perceptive friend ), I'd say that I was blessed. So, since I have no religious direction to speak of, but I am a devout believer in some things...like good old fashioned Karma, positive "Universal Energy", and (of course) knocking three times on a piece of wood... it must just mean that I'm lucky. I am actually very, very lucky to have a lot of friends...so many that I need all of my fingers and toes to count them on...and if my husband's feet were more attractive, I'd use his toes to count them on too.