Boobs

tumblr_mfifapwWST1qedskio1_500I have really large breasts, but this post will not be about anything sexy. I want to talk about how heavy they are and how painful it is on my shoulders and back. For many years, I’ve asked doctors to help me get a breast reduction. They always say, “that’s a radical idea.” Then they do nothing. I recently talked to a doctor who finally started the process for getting my insurance to pay for the surgery as a medical necessity. We shall see…

I think my breasts are fabulously sexy. But they are painful. If you were hiking, and you carried a 30lb pack, it would hurt your shoulders, right? You’d take it off and rest, if you could, right? Well I am stuck with my pack, unless I have surgery and get rid of some of this weight.

They are inconvenient. Bras cost $50-$80 each. I ruin my shirts all the time, when I lean over and get my breasts in things. It hurts when people bang into me because they hit my breasts first. It is just no fun on so many levels, that the fun of taking my shirt off for a fully erect man simply doesn’t make up for the difficulties and pain of having them.

I am grateful they so generously fed my child. I am grateful men have thought me beautiful for my whole life. I need them to be smaller though. Much, much smaller. As of this writing, they are 38JJ. I know, because I bought three new bras a little over a month ago. Collectively they cost me over $200, with tax. I would be so happy with a 38C. Especially since I know they will just grow again, but maybe I’ll get 20 years of bras off the shelf for $15, before I size out of big box store bra selections, which stop at 38DDD. It would be pretty great to have some time with far less pain too. And a C cup is nothing to be disappointed at. This is not to mention that such a surgery would also involve making my breasts stand at attention again for the first time since I breastfed my son 28 years ago. That would be pretty and in my mind, more than make up for them being smaller, because who doesn’t think perky breasts are sexy? And they will be beautiful once things heal post surgery. I knew several women who have had this surgery. One even let me feel her breast. They felt perfectly normal. They were firm, soft and full feeling. They looked like a 20 year old’s breasts too. And even better, every one of these women reported that that their nipples were more sensitive and responsive after surgery.

I am crossing my fingers that my insurance can be talked into this…

One of the Things

52cardabout blogging about a relationship post divorce with a real time community following the blog is that it can cause further frictions. As if that isn’t bad enough, when the natural bumps in a couple’s life happen, those who were angry about the relationship’s existence crow happily as if this gives them fuel to say, “I told you so.” I freely admit to being way too caught up in what others think…

There’s something important for a couple about having privacy from friends and family and yet having the camaraderie of other human beings out there in virtual land. Certainly, there’s a risk that someone we know personally may find this blog no matter the steps we’ve taken to obtain our privacy. We accept that’s possible. We aren’t ashamed of our relationship, nor of our choices. We just want privacy. I, especially wanted privacy because I want to mull aloud some place about the changes that have happened in my life without any assumed history in the head of my reader. The only history you have is right here. I like that. It starts us fresh.

That said, you are picking up a story in the middle some where…and yet, we don’t intend to give back history at all. We will try to give links to some enlightening posts now and again, to help, but you are still dropping in. Ask a question if you don’t understand something…or you could just listen to the emotions and let the details go if you like too.

There have been changes in my life which is changing the dynamic between us. That dynamic is and has always been a domestic power exchange with Dora the submissive. If you read posts from the past year, you’ll see that I was diagnosed with cancer last fall. It is changing my life. There is a malaise of depression that goes with this diagnosis. It’s not the emotional turmoil you’d assume, so much as the direct result of not having a thyroid. That has significant and far reaching effects in how my body functions. It does not help that the doctors are having to keep my hormone replacement out of sync with what would make me comfortable. This is because the thyroid hormones are associated with the making of cells. What we don’t want now is for cancer cells to grow, so not only is there a low-grade, inexorable depression in my mind and heart, but there’s also the side effects of a changing body. Its aging unnaturally and I’m gaining weight. I’m growing more wrinkled and more grey. Some days I look in the mirror and see a slightly more chubby version of myself which is just as beautiful now as ever, but mostly I am not able to see myself that way, because I am slightly depressed. I’m not depressed enough to warrant an antidepressant, but it’s there like a vague haze in my mind and it colors my world through my attitude, perceptions and assumptions about events. In other words, I am slanted toward the worst connotation on life rather than the optimistic, jubilant, grateful, graceful attitude, which is my healthy norm.

It is wearing on me. I am starting to feel like crying frequently. I don’t want to feel like this and so I try to distract myself, but those distractions tend to be those things which satisfies some hunger in me which is both thyroid based and emotions based. I hunger to eat iodine filled foods because of the thyroid issues and I crave to hide in stories or to fantasize about something I hope for. It is an ugly emotional pit, which creates discontent with other things in my life…not the least of which is how things have changed with Remus.

He and I are being very patient with me. I’m trying to hold myself close and holy…but my innate happiness is starting to feel like a farce. Reality has worn on me to the point that I realized in the past week that somehow, I’ve lost track of my most important personal goal. That is to become aware in the way that Buddhists view it. Understanding this has made me feel so sad. I am grateful for the realization though because perhaps I can do something about it. I am starting with shifting back to a more panoramic viewpoint of life, as best I can. I hope that I can hold on to it in the face of this illness. I am trying hard to hold on to it.