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Hi.

Welcome to my blog. I document my journey through breast cancer. Hope you feel inspired!

Tough Titties

Tough Titties

We’re back from Cancun. Back to reality. The suckiest part of this is having to go back to work again. People at my job who have worked there 10+ years are getting fired. I’m literally ready to find some anxiety meds or edibles….or both! 

But, God has already brought me through so much; so why worry now?  My goal WAS to leave a long time ago, but they pay me just enough to keep me. Then came the engagement. I work for DC’s top caterer so I’d have been a fool to leave. I stayed so that I could get the discount just like every other colleague had done. But then, before I could refresh my resume, or eat the top of my wedding cake, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. 

I go ahead and get these titties upgraded from temp titts to replacement tits. I take way less time to bounce back even though I need it. Because again, I feel the guilt of letting my team down during our busy season.

So here I am doing my best not to have a complete meltdown. 

I’m back to work and ready to re-acclimate to the routine. I’m going to be honest, it sucks being back here. I’d rather endure another “Hell Week” than to be back here. Yes, it's.that.bad. I have come so far and feel like there HAS to be MORE than this unfulfilling job.  

At this point, I know this isn't forever but I can’t help but wonder when this chapter will come to a close so that I can jump into something more fulfilling.  If there is one thing that I am certain of, it’s that I am made for more. I try to think positively. This is more like a temporary waiting period to catapult me into something better. Exhale, Jen…exhale.

It's busy season at work. That means all hands on deck. It means working long hours, working weekends and being on call. I could throw up just thinking about it. But with Breast Cancer, there is always more to do. Another treatment, an additional exam, another thing to think about so that you can keep yourself on this earth for a little bit longer. And the one thing I have come to realize is that NOTHING.COMES.BEFORE.YOU.

And so I’m going to allllll these doctor's appointments! No matter what time they are and on what day they fall! No more feeling guilty for being away from work to take care of ME. Like the meme says, “If you were to drop dead today, your employer would have a replacement before the mortician could draw on your red lipstick.” Ok, that’s not the meme but you know what I mean. 

To add more insult to the bitch-ass injury, I’ve had my reconstruction surgery and I don’t know what superpowers I had when I bounced back from my bilateral mastectomy, but the pain is an absolute BITCH this time around. What is it with these drugs they prescribe that don’t work? 

People talk about Oxy like they’re floating on a got damn cloud when they’re on it. They must have switched my shit out with a placebo because these pain killers aren’t killing shit I text one of my besties who is a mother of three and clearly knows about PAIN. Like a fake drug dealer, she tells me, “Ok, take 500ml extra-strength Tylenol every 2 hours along with the drugs they gave you.” Ok, sis! I follow her advice and the pain hasn’t completely subsided but this Tylenol in addition to the Oxy is help-ing. 

Pain and anxiety aside, I’m back to work 2 weeks later with HARD but VERY perky boobs.  I feel like I’ve used up all my golden tickets at work. No more chemo. No more surgeries. No more excuses to be put out of my work misery. No more “get out of work free cards”.  I know I’ve made it through seemingly worse, and I’m determined to NOT let work stress me out. Nope. 

And about these tough titties though? They are T O U G H. Like an overcooked steak. Beef jerky tits.  It takes me back to the time my college friend invited her hometown friend to visit for a weekend. After a few drinks homegirl was laid out in the middle of the hallway in Meridian Hill Hall,  telling us to feel on her new boobs. She went from very small B to a full D. She lays there with a huge smile on her face, cheering us on to feel her new boobs. Unsure, we look at each other, scared to make a move. 

“Seriously, feel em!”, she squeals with excitement.

She def wasn’t one of us because none of our parents would dare finance anything of the sort. And there wasn’t enough of a refund check for us to purchase anything other than new outfits for homecoming and MAYBE a trip to Miami or Montego Bay for spring break! 

Finally, one of us reaches down and gives it a squeeze, and soon after the rest of us are taking a turn — fascinated by this individual unafraid to be pet like a petting zoo exhibit. We are amazed. They feel real! It has some of us feeling for the same softness of our own breasts. 

I say all that to say, my implants don't feel like those fake titties I squeezed in 2004.

Fast forward to 2018.

I have a friend that upgraded from an “A” cup to a nice full “C” cup. I call her a few weeks after my reconstructive surgery and she assures me that my beef jerky titties won't last long. She tells me to just be patient, but I'm devastated. Nipple-less. No supple teardrop shape over here.

But I'm going to pray for patience and softness for these here tough tits. 

Now if you’ll excuse me while I head to the mall and look for every deep V article of clothing that I can find. These titties look GOOOOOOOD.

"Breast Implants Look Better on Skinny Women" 

"Breast Implants Look Better on Skinny Women" 

Bald on the Beach

Bald on the Beach