Taco Tuesday?


This month BFF had to have surgery.  Twice.  Nothing major and everything is fine but she had to have some lumps removed from her breast.  All is benign and good!  So don’t you all go worrying cuz she would hate that.  She had what is called a phyllodes tumor, which is benign but can turn cancerous, so it had to be removed before it caused trouble.  Silly boobie.  So, surgery it was and I went with her and her parentals to be her support and to entertain her Momma so she wouldn’t be too stressed.   Let me tell you, BFF on meds is hilarious!  Also she was pretty hungry which led to the discussion of tacos. Because it was Tuesday.  And because tacos. Always tacos.

BFF had to have one of her lumps marked by a wire because it was small and the surgeon wanted to make sure she could find it during the surgery.  So that procedure was supposed to take place about an hour before the actual surgery.  That had to be done with a radiologist and she said it really was not pleasant.  But she returned with a numb boobie and we sat waiting in the pre-op area.  From where we were, we could see all the activity of the area and that was quite fun.  But the waiting.  Ugh.  So much waiting.  And waiting. And waiting.  BFF was scheduled for surgery at 12:45 and had not had anything to eat since midnight.  She was starving.  So guess what our topic of conversation was?  Yup.  The food she was going to shove in her gob as soon as she was released.  She had quite the list.  But topping that list?  Tacos.  It was, after all, Taco Tuesday and she wanted some tacos dammit.  She must have talked about the kind of tacos she wanted for like an hour. And this was before they gave her drugs.  BFF’s surgery time came and went.  Unfortunately for her, she got bumped back because of trauma patients.  This meant one thing.  Her boobie was now not numb and she could feel the wire.  Also, she was still hungry.  I imagine the wire felt like a giant splinter sitting in her boobie so it could not have been that fun.  Can you imagine?  So BFF did the only thing she could since she couldn’t have tacos.  She asked for pain medication.

This is where it got fun.  They gave her medication and a few minutes later she looked at me and said “Whoa”.  Immediately she said she didn’t like it and could not understand how people could get addicted to stuff like that.  Good thing to know BFF won’t suddenly become a drug addict.  I won’t have to worry about her becoming a bag lady pushing a shopping cart down the street that contain all her worldly possessions muttering to herself about demons and yelling profanities at people.  Oh wait.  Maybe I do.  But not because of drugs.  Just because.  Pretty soon the sleepy factor hit her and she was out.  Which means this happened.

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She really shouldn’t sleep around me.

You knew that would happen right?  I mean what else was I supposed to do while waiting?  Luckily, only 3 hours after she was supposed to go back for surgery, the crew finally came and got her.  Which meant we were left with this image as they wheeled her back.

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That is one sexy blue cap BFF

If you have ever waited for someone in surgery, then you know it can be so long even if it is only 45 minutes or so.  We had the joy of hearing some dude eery 15 minutes tell everyone within ear shot of him that he was going to go out and “smoke his cancer”.  You go right ahead buddy.  Thanks for telling us the umpteenth time.  I thought BFF’s Momma was gonna stab him in the eye with a spork from the dining room when he said it for the 4th time.  I would have handed her the spork.  Just saying.  Our hospital does this thing where they give you a tracking number and you can look up on this giant board to see where your loved one is.  I felt like all I did was stared at this board waiting to see if BFF was in the recovery room yet.  It just kept saying she was in the OR.  Even when the surgeon came to talk to us and said she was done and everything was fine, BFF’s number never moved her to the recovery room.  It was like she was stuck in permanent limbo! Maybe the Doctor came and picked her up in the T.A.R.D.I.S. and she is flying through time and space.  Wait.  And she didn’t come and get me?  Rude.

Eventually I knew she was in the recovery room.  How?  Because all of a sudden I got a text from her.  I looked at her Momma because I thought she had BFF’s phone but she didn’t.  I opened up the text message and started laughing.  The text was nothing but taco emojis.  A ton of them.  Only BFF would subtly let me know she was out of surgery and feeling fine by texting me taco emojis.  Best recovery room text ever.  Her Momma and I laughed pretty hard over that.

After being discharged, I was helping BFF to the car while her Momma went and got it.  She looked at me and said “I am starving.  Can you go get me tacos?”  Nope.  Not happening.  I carefully explained to her drug addled brain that I didn’t want to see tacos come back up and I would get her some the next day.  She sighed, agreed and again told me could never be a drug addict.  Well good, because I didn’t want to have to find her a shopping cart.  Although if it came filled with tacos at that point, I am sure she would have just walked down the street muttering to herself and eating tacos.  I mean it was Taco Tuesday.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did, however, have to explain to BFF why she couldn’t have tacos fresh out of surgery, but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl with a BFF who texts me taco emojis from the recovery room Running.  The experiment continues…

 

 

Can I Get a Whoop Whoop? Part 2


I promised you I would continue my 3 Day adventure so hold on cuz this is action packed!!  Ever been volunteered to do something without your knowledge?  Yup…this happened to me, Bestie and BFFE at the 3 Day.  Our lovely Captain heard that there was a need for crew members to help lead the walkers in the Cupid Shuffle at the Opening Ceremonies and since she knew we knew how to do it (remember the video from last year?), she volunteered us.  Needless to say, we were terrified but being good sports, we agreed.  At Opening Ceremonies, we were asked to meet behind the stage at a certain time.  We had no idea we would be going UP ON STAGE in front of over 900 walkers, crew and family members to lead The Cupid Shuffle as a warm up for those walking.  We managed to drag another crew member with us and she really had no idea what she had gotten into either since she didn’t know the dance.  But, all 4 of us, managed to get up there with smiles on our faces and enthusiastically lead all those people to shake their booties.  I mean, we all know I can shake my booty.  The Food Crew really are pros at this dance and Saturday night we did it in camp for everyone to see….I know there is another video somewhere of us doing it.  In case you have no idea what I am talking about, here is the official video of The Cupid Shuffle….so get up off your couches and shake your booties with The Fat Girl!

During one of our dinner shifts, BFFE and I were busy Whoop Whooping it up and one of the chefs decided to get revenge on us.  Frank (as we mistakenly called him most of the weekend but is NOT his real name) is from Australia and loved to give us a hard time the last couple of years.  It was great because he could dish it out as well as BFFE and I could and jokingly put up with our obnoxiousness.  So he comes up and sees that the Tempe police, that are helping keep us safe, were getting in our food line.  He then yells to them “Officer!  Officer!  Can you take these two obnoxious loud mouths out of here please and put them in jail?”  We immediately started ribbing him loudly and laughing.  Before we knew it, the po-po had come over and slapped his handcuffs on me and BFFE, cuffing us together!!  Yup….that happened.  Ever try to serve food when you are cuffed to another person?  It is not easy I must admit.  I usually use handcuffs in other ways but those are fluffy and don’t require a key….too much information?  I have never laughed so hard as when Frank came back and saw us cuffed together for his benefit!  What a great sport both Frank and the po-po were to do that to us.  Of course, Frank still asked the po-po jokingly to still take us away…maybe we could have served up some food to prison bitches.

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Love how we caught the po-po in the pic….so worth it.  And what is that expression on my face?

I have to confess that sometimes we were delirious from lack of sleep and that made us quite slap happy in our down time between breakfast and dinner service.  It led to crazy photos in the photo booth (see below) and also led to an incident with our sack lunch on Saturday.  Four of us had decided we would grab our sack lunches and head back to the hotel for what we hoped was giggle-free (not so much) sleep.  We went over to where they had brought the sandwiches and such and proceeded to put our sammies, chips and cookies in our sacks and head back to the room.  Bestie ran down to the front desk to ask for an extra blanket since she is not a penguin like me and BFFE and the rest of us (we had brought back M with us) sat down on the bed to eat our ham and cheese sammies.  M took one bite and immediately complained that is was super dry and there was no mayo or mustard on the sammies.  BFFE and I immediately looked into our bags to see if some had magically appeared in our bags since we hadn’t seen any in the food line.  This led to a tirade for about 5-10 minutes on how dry and gross the sammies were…mind you we were eating them the entire time.  Bestie came in and BFFE warned her about the sammies.  Bestie frowns, opens her sack and throws both mayo and mustard and napkins (also another contention with us that those were not provided) at all of us.  Shocked and surprised looks crossed our faces as we all clamored to know where she got them.  Bestie, looking confused, said “Uh…at the condiment station we have set up with every meal.”  DOH!  Laughter immediately ensued as we told her how we had complained for what seemed like hours about the food.  Delirium does funny things to people.

Delirious Food Service crew
Delirious Food Service crew
Bad asses kicking cancer's butt
Bad asses kicking cancer’s butt

All in all, this was one of the BEST experiences I have had at the 3 Day because I was surrounded by friends I consider my 3 Day family.  There are reasons I come back every year and am still considering being a part of the 3 Day next year but in a different way (can you say Walker Stalker?) and my kooky 3 Day family is only part of it.  I do this to support the walker on chemo making her journey with her friends walking behind her carrying the official flag that said “Myself” for her reason. We cheered her on and all hugged her as she sobbed her way across the finish line.  I continue to do this for my Captain, a 12 year survivor herself, who didn’t think her sister would make it another year with her stage 4 cancer.  For our other survivor, G, for flying out here every year to spend her weekend with a kooky bunch of weirdos because her BFF asked her too.  And because I KNOW I made a difference in people’s lives that weekend.  How do I know that?  As the crew walked out to Closing Ceremonies through a funnel of walkers, the walkers were all high-fiving every crew member and saying thank you.  We were starting to high-five everyone when all of a sudden, I heard the walkers start to Whoop Whoop when they saw me and BFFE.  Tears immediately started to flow as I realized that they were giving us back the love we gave to them every meal service and acknowledging our energy.  It was the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.  THAT is why I do this.  To make a difference.  To add to someone’s life.  And I gained the most beautiful group of friends out of it…. thank you Food Services Crew for accepting my weirdness and being weird with me.  I am ever so grateful to Bestie for talking me into walking in 2010 and crewing for the last 3 years.  Best.  Experience. Ever.  Whoop Whoop!

The team that started it all...Celtic Cancer Kickers.  Thanks Bestie for introducing me to the wonders of the 3 Day
The team that started it all…Celtic Cancer Kickers. Thanks Bestie for introducing me to the wonders of the 3 Day

Oh yeah…I didn’t die today.  I did discover the power of a simple Whoop Whoop but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl crying tears of joy as I make a difference Running.  The experiment continues….

 

Off and Crewing!


I had every intention of writing a totally new post about breast cancer this week since I am off to go crew for the AZ Susan G. Komen 3 Day  like I do every November.  But, time got away from me as usual.  Or rather, I got sucked into reading the Divergent series by Veronica Roth…if you have not read these books then do so…NOW.  They surpassed my love for The Hunger Games which says a lot if you know me. So, like a true book nerd, everything got put on hold this week while I read. My Facebook status even said “Don’t bother me.  I’m reading.” and I meant it.  There is my excuse…I was reading.  Such a nerd.  Even nerdier was that I got a package from my Seester this week with signed books in it and I squeed like a fan girl in my kitchen.  Best box ever.  Yup…total nerd.

Since I didn’t have time to write a proper post, I shall let you read the one I wrote last year entitled The Fat Girl Knows How to Serve Food and Dance (Apparently Like a Stripper) .  Check it out and know that I will undoubtedly be dancing like a stripper again this year.  And check out my Facebook page if you want to see the actual video footage of me and BFFE dancing….it will make you smile.

If you want to donate, I am still taking donations.  You just have to go to my 3 Day donation page and make one!!  I am as of right now only $624 away from my goal of raising $2000.  Help a Fat Girl out would ya….even $5 will help.  Look at me beg…at least I am not standing on the corner holding a sign.  Wait…that wasn’t me you saw standing on the corner without a sign for other reasons….damn.  I promise a new exploit when I return…

Oh yeah…I didn’t die today.  I procrastinated by reading like a total book nerd but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl getting ready to crew for the 3 Day this weekend Running…the experiment continues.

Fat Girl For Sale


My life has been crazy busy the last couple of weeks, hence my not blogging for a while.  I apologize for the absence.  My work schedule was crazy and in between shifts I was busy organizing a HUGE fundraiser for a very dear friend and co-worker who was recently diagnosed with breast cancer and undergoing all the treatments for it.  When I say HUGE, I really do mean HUGE.  It literally overcame all my expectations.  For those of you who have been reading awhile, you all know that breast cancer is a cause that I get involved with every year with the 3 Day Walk so I knew we could easily get something together for her.  When we found out at work that the chemo had not shrunk her tumor and she had to move up the date for her mastectomy by several months, we were all heartbroken.  You see, she is my age, the sole income for her family, has a wonderful 6-year-old and is completely out of paid time off.  We quickly all racked our brains for what we could possibly do to help her out financially and came up with the idea that we should have a garage sale with all the proceeds to benefit our beautiful friend.  How did this end up consuming my time?  Well, I had the bright notion that since my HOA was sponsoring a community wide garage sale, that we should take advantage of the free advertising and do it that weekend and at MY house.  Sigh.  I had no idea what I was about to get myself into.

Silly Fat Girl.  We started out by putting up sign up sheets at work for those who wanted to either help out the day of the sale or donate items.  We covered 4 units in our hospital (the 4 that we all float around to) and got lots of excited responses.  Awesome!  It was starting out to be a great idea and we had a month to get it all together.  I created an event on Facebook and invited everyone I knew, explaining our beloved friend’s story.  I enlisted the help of Bubby and his Pocket sized GF to help me clean out my garage.  Once we conquered that task (and not an easy one), I put out the word that I would start taking donations to sell.  We had already made a small but nice pile of crap from my own house and I honestly thought not much would come in.  The donations started slowly and added to the pile. Pretty sure they breeded overnight and soon even while I was sleeping, people were leaving donations on my porch, driveway and even in my garage.  Soon enough, one whole side of the garage was overtaken by everyone elses crap and I was starting to wonder if it would stop.  It didn’t.  Within a week, I could no longer park in my garage and the items kept coming.  Some creepier than others.  I really mean it when I say people dropped off stuff while I was sleeping. One day, I walked out to go to work and the pile was now encroaching on my ability to even walk in there.  Upon getting to my car, while wondering if there were live animals making nests in the piles of stuff in my garage, I screamed.  There on my car one of my friends had placed the creepiest mask ever and I quickly looked around to see if SOTL man had been there and skinned another fat girl.  Seriously.  Pretty sure I left a puddle of pee in the garage (thanks Fox).  You would have a Code WP too.

CREEEEEEEPY. Seriously Fox, you made me pee my pants

BFF and I started to wonder if the donations would ever stop, if we would have any traffic on the day of the sale and if anyone was actually gonna show to help us run it.  We attempted to sort the items and group them and it became pretty clear to me that we were in over our heads.  Seriously.  Is it breeding?  Luckily, the day before the sale, some wonderful co workers showed up to help sort, price and organize.  Nothing like 3 girls with OCD to organize a garage sale.  Let’s just say it was the most organized garage sale I have ever been to. I quickly put out word via Facebook that we were no longer taking donations when we realized that we could not walk in the garage.  They still kept coming.  Really?  What part of no more did everyone not get?  Of course, this does prove how generous the nurses are at the hospital and how they will come together to support a co-worker.  That part was wonderful.  Dealing with other people’s stuff…not so great (really…who wants to buy underwear from a garage sale?  Is it just me or is that gross?) We even had people stopping by and shopping while we were organizing and pricing.  Garage sale people are weird.

The day of the sale, I got up at the butt crack of dawn, hoping all those who said they would help would really show up.  They did.  Signs were hung that it was a fundraiser, a table with a bake sale and breakfast burritos was in place (that was PURE genius I tell you. They were gone in 45 minutes.  Damn hungry garage salers) and people did come to help set up.  We started setting up and 5 minutes into setting up, the buyers started arriving even though the sale was not for another hour.  From there, it became the craziest most insane I have never seen that many people in my yard at one time event.  We had some good shit to sell I tell you, but you could not even drive down my street because there were so many people.  I swear at one point, there was at least 75 people in my yard and they were trying to buy everything not nailed down.  It was a never-ending stream of people, haggling, and money being handed over.  An hour into the sale, BFF came up to me and whispered that there was already $1600 in the house.  WHAT?  ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?  We still had 3 hours to go.  Our wonderful, beautiful friend even showed up to help, tears of joy at what we were doing for her in her eyes.  There were lots of weird moments at the sale, because like I said, garage sale people are weird, but the icing on the cake was when SOTL man actually DID show up with his little dog.  Wanna know how creepy he is?  He SAT down in my driveway and started reading the books for sale.  The children’s books.  Out loud.  Yeah…he is THAT creepy.  And he kept trying to get everyone to kiss his dog too.  Seriously Dude….you freak me out.  I was just glad it wasn’t him that left the skin/mask on my car.  Just saying.  (I WILL get you back Fox for that…I know where you live.  I have streaked past your house before.  Naked.  But that is another story).  Someone actually bought that creepy mask too.  If they show up to my house wearing it, I might scream and pee some more.  And then send them over to Fox’s house.

Do we know how to run a garage sale or what? We love you!

To make a long story short (I know…too late), the sale was a GINORMOUS hit.  We raised over $2500 for our friend.  Yes…you did read that right.  Who raises that kind of cash at a garage sale?  The Fat Girl does.  We won’t say how I did it, but I did.  Although, I did feel a little like a stripper when I went into the bank to exchange all the ones for bigger bills.  The tears from our beloved friend yesterday was all the thanks we needed.  Fight on my dearest!  FIGHT on!

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I might have thought another fat girl had gotten skinned and left on my car but I didn’t die. I am fat girl who is still overwhelmed by all the community support we got for our brave friend running.  The experiment continues…..

Riding The 3 Day High And Taking A Coma


I apologize for not being on here for the last couple of days but to be honest I was either doing one of two things…riding the 3 Day high or taking a coma.  And no neither one of those things involved exercising.  I was too dang tired to be honest.  In fact, right now, I feel as if I could fall asleep right here at the keyboard.  But, I will prop my eyelids open and tell you all about my weekend because that is really why I am here.  So I might tug on your heart-strings today but hey…a little crying never hurt anyone.  Suck it up and read on, dear readers!

The Susan G. Komen 3 Day Walk For The Cure was this weekend and I spent it being on the food services crew…what an AMAZING group of people I met and became fast friends with.  Nothing like sharing the close proximity of little pink tents and long hours with no sleep to make you fast friends.  We all know how much of a girly girl I am and how much I DETEST camping but for the sake of the event I bucked it up and did it.  Eh gads, making my bag at the 35 pound weight limit was my first challenge.  Really?  35 pounds?  That is the weight of my carry on when I fly….pretty sure.  Ugh.  Ok so I packed light and made sure my air mattress and other sleeping gear fit into my bag.  Thank goodness for a rolling duffel bag.  And I was not gonna give up my air mattress.  It was the least I could do to be comfortable after being uncomfortable last year.  Did I mention I HATE camping?  This fat girl and air mattresses do not have the best reputation.  I was pretty sure I was either gonna roll off of it or it would flip me off like I had happen before and there you would see the fat girl flying in the air over all the other sea of pink tents.  Wouldn’t that be a sight?  Me, flailing through the air and hoping to not land on some skinny little power walker with her Starbucks in her hand and her full makeup on.  No joke.   I managed to get through the weekend without having the experience of either.  Whew!  Although I did almost fall off of the air mattress getting out of the tent in the middle of the night to pee cuz I was in such a hurry to go to the porta potties.  Yeah.  Porta potties.  Lets so not go there or we might have to discuss my new syndrome I am sure I have come down with.  I call it PPPP (Porta Potty Pooping Phobia)…do you really want me to go there?   Didn’t think so.  Let’s just say I was miserable on that front and never so glad to see my own potty and leave it at that.  But I really did have an amazing experience as a crew member and am already planning on doing it again next year.  I could walk again but let’s be honest….I think the knee would have something to say about that.  I could crew Medical but that requires touching people’s feet….ew.  So I am thinking that food services is where it is at.  What a crazy and loveable group of people to work with….being crazy myself really helps.  It made me come out of my fat girl introverted self and have to talk to people.  I couldn’t hide behind all of my outgoing friends and pretend to not be there.  I had to interact with people, which is good for me.  Although, there was the camping factor….did I forget to tell you how much I DISLIKE camping?  Pretty sure I haven’t.  We were up at 0330 to 0400 to get ready to serve breakfast.  The night shifter inside of me screamed at me to just stay awake but luckily I was so tired by the time 9pm came around that I fell asleep in the little cozy pink tent.  Except for the night it rained.  Wow did that suck beyond the telling of it.  Ever hear the sound of rain on nylon?  It is stinking loud.  Plus, if you have to pee, like I did, it is then as torturous as holding a cookie just outside a fat kids reach.  That is a fun game.  You should try it.  It was worth the long hours and enduring the rain to be there to make the walkers experience the best they could have while walking 60 miles.  Yes, you read that right.  60 miles.  Pretty intense.  Even though I am sooooo not a morning person, there I was trying to be cheerful (although one of my co-workers can attest to me giving her the finger at several points during the early am hours) to encourage these people giving there all out there for three days.  It was the least I could do to give back to all those who helped this fat girl make her 60 mile journey last year.  This is where I discovered the need for longer shorts, remember, to avoid the Chub Rub situation.  But I did discover that sleeping bags really are not made for fat girls.  I got all situated in my sleeping bag, complete with my extra blanket and flannel jammies and attempted to roll over.  I felt like I was stuck to one of those human velcro walls.  I kept trying to turn over, but the whole sleeping bag was stuck to me, trying to choke me or suffocate me and causing my underwear to be the kind I don’t wear.  That much fabric really should not go up your butt crack.  Just saying.  It was really quite the feat to try to turn over without feeling like I was rolling myself up like a spring roll from Panda Express.  I will just say again that I ABHOR camping.  Oh the things we do for a cause we believe in.  And I really do apologize to any of my fellow crew members who were around me and had to deal with my snoring.  Contrary to popular belief, that was not a bear roaming through camp but rather a fat girl taking a coma and trying to breathe around her beauty pageant waving chin fat.

And why do I do this?  I do it for the woman who crossed the finish line sobbing because she is stage 4 breast cancer with mets to her ribs and sternum and she knows she won’t be here next year to walk.  I do this for the 4 survivors on my crew, including my captain, who at closing ceremonies we circled and saluted them with our one shoe because without the advances in breast cancer research I would not have had the wonderful experience of getting to know them and call them my friends.  I do this for my Aunt, who this year is 6 years cancer free.  I do this for my BFF, who had a scare last year with a lump while I was training for the walk because the thought of going through life without her is terrifying.  Who else would put up with my fat girl shit?  These are the reasons I do this and will continue to do this every year.  I highly encourage anyone out there to get involved with a 3 day.  Lets all one day have a world without breast cancer.  Wouldn’t that be grand?  Watch this video but be aware that as you watch it, 5 women across the world will lose their battle with breast cancer.  One woman every 69 seconds.  One woman in eight will be diagnosed.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die this weekend.  Even though my sleeping bag might have been following orders from SOTL man to choke me, I didn’t die so escaped the fat suit one more day.  I am fat girl who invited and let people into my heart this weekend and am a better person for it running.  The experiment continues……

Motivate Me Or Pass Me The Doritos!


Getting fit sometimes is not the easiest thing to get motivated for….trust me this week I have really lacked motivation of any kind (except prepare for the zombie apocalypse) including trying to work out.  Maybe it is the post vacation blahs.  Maybe it is me still being a fatty.  Sigh.  I need some serious fire lit under my fat ass this week.  Is it wrong that all I wanted to do was put on my flannel jammies and hang out on the couch?  Oh that damn couch.  I swear it lures me in with its comfiness and remote.  I shake my fist at the damn couch in the other room that I know I am doomed to return to after writing this.  I mean it is dark outside and cold so I am not gonna go out for a walk or run right now.  Good excuse, eh?  I think it is my birthday approaching that makes me squirm and cringe cuz I am still a fatty.  41….sigh….yup 41.  Dude.  It is hard to lose weight when you are over forty.  I need to get some inspiration up in this fatties life.  Ok readers….motivate me!  Or pass me the Doritos if you are joining me on the couch.  We could look like this together:

 

Ok but now I must motivate my fellow gal pals out there of all shapes and sizes to do one thing for me….feel your boobies and get a mammogram!  I know…totally random, right?  But actually, for me, no.  You see next weekend I am participating again in the Susan G. Komen 3 Day For The Cure as a crew member.  I really could not get my fat ass to try to walk those 60 miles again.  That was the hardest thing I have ever done.  So, I am really trying to encourage all of my gal readers out there to please schedule your mammograms ladies.  I realize it’s now November and not the national breast cancer awareness month, but DO IT!  I have had too many people in my life either fight this cancer or have a scare, including BFF, who last year had to have a breast biopsy due to several lumps in her breast.  It was very scary.  But really, I must motivate you to do this!  Let me tell you about my experience.  I decided to have mine done this last year after BFF’s scare because my Aunt is also a six-year breast cancer survivor.  My Auntie T means the absolute world to me.  I am super close to her. So, when I turned 40, I decided despite the new standards that say you shouldn’t get one till you are 50, I decided to ask my doc for a mammogram and she agreed.  She doesn’t agree with those new standards either.  Early detection is what it is all about, ladies.  Ok…so BFF offers to go with me to my appt.  Now, you have to understand, after her ordeal, I was terrified but I decided to brave it myself.  I did not feel a lump, but I have a hard time feeling anything in my breasts.  Remember, they used to be as large as my head so to me all that fatty tissue always feels lumpy.  I will not lie to you and tell you that this was a fun-filled exciting experience.  I was scared and it was not fun.  First, no deodorant is allowed.  Dude.  I understand why but phew!  Then, they give you this little gown and take you into this closet to get changed into it. thank goodness I didn’t have to remove my pants, cuz that gown was not gonna cover anything but my boobies.  Really, they should look at getting a gown for a fat girl.  What is with those little patient gowns anyways?  It’s like when you go for the duck lip experience (another non fun-filled way to spend your afternoon) and they give you this little gown that barely covers your kooka and a paper to sheet to actually cover it.  Really?  Does this make you feel any privacy or anything but cold?  No.  But I digress…onto the mammogram!  Into the room I go to this very scary looking machine with big plates attached to it.  Huh.  Ok…you want me to do what?  Put my boob on that plate and let you squish it with another plate till it no longer resembles a boob but more like a pancake of flesh.  Pretty sure SOTL guy would like this.  But I did it.  I allowed some gal to place my breast on that plate and bring the other one down to squish it flat.  OUCH.  She apologized to which I had to say “Don’t apologize to me.  I apologize to you for having to get your face so close to my non deodorized armpit.”  We both laughed and that seemed to help me not be so nervous about what might be seen on this flat squishy version of my once perky boobs.  Pretty sure the lift I got with my reduction was slightly reduced during this process.  Because I have such dense breast tissue still, I had to have several squishes, changing plates several times before we were done.  It really didn’t take long and despite my breasts bouncing back into shape like Silly Putty, I was afraid they would be so flattened I would have to roll them up into my bra.  A few days later, I got a call.  I had to come back.  There was a shadow on my mammogram that needed to be looked at again.  Now I am scared and now I did ask BFF to come with me, if nothing but to sit in the waiting room while I went through all that again.  Then, I am led back to my closet of a changing room to wait to see if I need an ultrasound.  Luckily, it was scar tissue from my reduction so I was sent on my merry way to come back in a year to repeat it all again.  So see, ladies, if this fatty can do it, so can you.  Don’t wait till you feel a lump.  Go now.  Do this for the fat girl.  And for my Auntie T.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today cuz I didn’t work out.  At least I am honest.  I am fat girl needing some serious motivation to get my fat ass off the couch encouraging you to feel your boobies!  The experiment continues….