Wednesday, 8 September 2010

Garden VS Swiss Cheese: Update On "My Boob Is A Garden"

First I'd just like to say a big "Thank You", to everyone for their kind messages, emails and comments on my last little vent about my decrepit boobage. They were very much appreciated. I think I'd just reached the "you have got to be kidding me" point and needed to let it all out.  Probably with a touch of too much information but hey, it''s not like it's the first time I've gone down that path.  Just once I'd like to see a medical professional who says, "your [insert body part] is perfectly normal".  Just once.  Is that really too much to ask?

Apparently the answer to that question is a big fat, "YES".

I have decided I need to send an official letter of complaint to my parents to chastise them for their piss poor procreation efforts. I've said it before and I'll say it again, perfunctory sex is bad. Look at me. This is what happens when you put a decided lack of effort into your boudoir shenanigans. Yes Mum and Dad I am talking about you. I am the product of meh sex. Really that's the only explanation for a body which is dodgy at every level.

I went back to my GP today to get the formal results. Picture the scene. Nice clinic. Picturesque scenery in the beautiful moutains surrounding Melbourne. Tree ferns at the window. Rosellas and King Parrots flying through the air. Lovely GP, who I'd recommend to anyone, grabs the ultrasound report. Puts it on her knee. Looks up.  Stares me in the face and says incredulously, "Oh my God".

Yep that's right. "Oh my God". Always a good start. Why yes my boobs have been busy as the long paragraphs of Time New Roman size 12 now officially report. Not content with one weed, or two, or three. My booby garden has popped out 10, yep 10, new and exciting varieties of weeds, not including my escapee bits of boob inhabiting my body from my knee cap to my ear lobe. Yes, yet again I am a reject.

I am grateful that they are not of the particularly noxious variety and can thus stay where they are for the moment. But geeze Louise, is it really that hard to have a normal body part? Apparently once more my decrepitude is of the gold medal variety.  I have declined the kind offer of being poked with multiple needles in the boob and taken the "keep and eye on them" approach to management.

She did laugh when I said the radiologist had told me that my boob was a garden. Though she thought it had more of a "Swiss cheese" quality. I shall never look at a block of Jarlsburg the same way again. "Garden" or "Cheese", these are my choices. 


I was also given more of a tsk tsking, and have been told that I need either 6mth or 12mth ultrasounds from now on. I also get to start the joy of mammograms at age 40. Though, as I have decided to stay 35 and will have "30faux" birthdays from now on, I may never have the joy of seeing my piklets squished between the vice of the mammogram.  She did take the time to point out that the girls were of the more petite variety, because of course I hadn't noticed, and may be difficult to scan.  Small, weedy, Mini Babybels, who aren't even up to the task of being squished.  I am beyond expletives now, and am on the path of resigned sighs of acceptance with a side of defeat.

So yet again I am a resident of the quaint town of Freakville.  If anyone knows where I can buy tequila by the gallon let me know.  Home delivery would be a bonus.

Thanks
Michelle

10 comments:

  1. Hey Michelle,
    Glad to hear that you're ok and it doesn't seem to be too serious an issue at the mo - even if the health weirdness does seem never ending at times. I guess if a body part does have to be a food, swiss cheese isn't too bad. Imagine being gorgonzola? or that fruit that apparently smells like vomit?

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  2. Michelle, I must of missed something, I'll have to check your blogs tonight. But it sounds like you're having boob issues, and I say you're body has done enough and you deserve a break. I agree, one normal body part isn't much to ask for palease! A breast garden leaves my visual thinking quite curious though, Take care my friend.

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  3. My boobs want to take your boobs out for a nice supportive lunch and some baked goods. I'm waiting to hear which medical professional likens your boobs to bacon. You should make out with that person.

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  4. oooh you poor thing. I had a similar thing happen recently (at the ripe old age of 33) It seems my boob is a boneyard. My GP mistook a rib for a lump and sent me for m.grams and ultrasounds etc, I had a few weeks of google reading about how breast cancer in under 35 year olds was the end... before learning that I have an usually bony chest...of all the places to be skinny...I wouldn't mind bony thighs!

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  5. Sunburnt - Durian boobs, now that would be bad. I still remember all the signs in the hotels in Asia saying "no explosives, firearms, prostitutes or durian allowed in rooms". Apart from the pain issue they aren't too bad in the big scheme of things.

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  6. The last time I drank tequila was prior marriage (bearing in mind I have been married 21 long years) I slammed my glass down with gusto and ended up going to Greece with a man whom I thought loved me. He just wanted me for my body (back in the day it was a better one) it turned out. So if you end up finding the on tap tequila - you have been warned.

    I know its not a funny situation and I worry the more your posts make me laugh the shittier your situation. That didn't come out right but my guess is you will know what I mean. I have been awake all night, I should blog about that but then everyone would know my business right? So my words are not eloquent.

    Suffice to say, I hear you loud and clear. Do I deliberately choose to find people in the blogosphere across the other side of the world I ask myself because of my well hidden social phobia. You see I find myself with a terrible urge to pop a bottle of tequila in my bag and pop round.

    Jokes aside for a moment. This is crap as if you don't put up with enough already. I hope you get to read this comment after all the 'trouble' on that front.

    My thoughts are with you and despite attempts at upbeat commenting in the hope it helps. I sense a desperation and I don't really know what to say to make you feel better.

    So I will just say this. I know its all virtual and none of this is realtime but I genuinely wish I could sit beside you and silently swig tequila together. Sometimes friends don't need to speak, they just need to be there. I wish I was there.

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  7. Michele - I'm thinking my boob garden is a bit like Miss Haversham's in Great Expectations, weeds and overgrown, rather than the ones at Versailles.

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  8. Elly Lou - my boobs will take you up on your offer of lunch and baked goods. Bacon boobs? Hmmm. I keep getting visuals of Miss Piggy.

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  9. Elizabeth - that made me laugh! Though I wish you didn't have to go through it. It is rather stressful. The first lump I noticed I was in my late 20s and after all the Belinda Emmett stories I was worried. I vote for bony things too!

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  10. Achelois - Damn you woman you just made me tear up and I don't do that touchy feely crap. I wish we could share a swig from that bottle too. Friendship comes in all sorts of forms and from unexpected places and really the highest compliment is finding someone you would want to have a drink with. We need to find a porch someday and just sit. Big hugs to you my friend from distant shores :)

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All who are lovely enough to comment should be showered with cup cakes, glitter and macarons. I promise to use my spoon bending mind powers to try and get that happening for all who are lovely enough to share their words. Those who go the extra step to share posts should really get a free unicorn. Or at least the gift of finding the shortest and quickest line at the supermarket on a regular basis. xx