I have to say that I've never been that fond of having boobs. They're big flabs on the front of my chest that make it hard to fit into small spaces and exercise without a really good bra. They've served their purpose in feeding my two children and I am grateful for that but now I don't really have anything good to say about the damn things.
Now I understand that there are plenty of small chested women who scoff at me for saying that, they might even swear at me for it, but I'm more than justified in disliking my breasts these days. In mid July I had a mass removed from my right breast, a mass we all believed to be benign. The two weeks after the open biopsy I thought nothing about it, then I went back to see the surgeon and found out I had breast cancer.
It wasn't aggressive cancer and I don't have to have chemotherapy, but I do have to deal with doctor appointments, several long weeks of radiation and five years of estrogen pills. All stress I certainly don't want or need in my life.
To make matters worse I never could have seen it coming, there is no history of breast cancer in my family and I am only 32 years old. Well, I'll be 33 next week, but I was still diagnosed when I was 32. I'm an unusual case, which I am usually proud to say, but could have done without saying this time.
