So my fourth week of radiation has gotten very interesting. Bright red burns and sores now cover the area that used to be just my scar, that used to be just my breast and it has made me a fairly miserable bitch all the time. I have all kinds of tricks...aloe, refrigerated aloe, prescription creams, Vitamin E, oatmeal baths, blah, blah blah. The only mild relief I can get really is pulling my shirt and prosthetic boob off and lay slathered in aloe under a ceiling fan. Like very, very, very low rent porn. But with four kids and a busy life, that's not feasible so I move to Phase B. Very unconscious pulling and tugging at my boob when the burn becomes fierce to relieve the pressure on the sores. The problem is, I am doing it so unconsciously, I am unaware of my surroundings when I do it. Exhibit A - I am at the grocery store talking to the check out person about stamps, I am writing my check, she is telling me how she wishes stores would leave that to the postal folks and without thinking, I reach in, pull forward my boob and blow on my chest. Recognizing the awkward moment between us I can go two ways...I can use the shocked look in her eyes as a way of permanently forcing my oblivious self into reality and pretend it was a rubber band snapping at my neck or I can just laugh it off. So I ignore it and hope she thinks...well I don't know what she thinks but I just keep writing. Jack begging for candy helped - a very fine distraction indeed. So I bend over to immerse myself in whatever M&M bag he is vying for when my dislodged boob drops to the floor. I am halfway back up when it makes its launch but I am faster and all would not have been lost had it not been for my sweet son proudly holding the gel blob and yelling "MOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! Here's your boobie!!!!!!!!!"
Aww Hello Humiliation, my old friend...just when I thought I had seen the last of you at Hot Yoga. So now I realize, burn and leave it, burn and leave it...do not pull boob and blow. I can assure you these are things I have never had to train myself to do so you can forgive me for the new world order of things.
And my valiant son who probably thinks all moms prop their boobs on the nightstand before going to bed got his M&Ms which to tell you truth, I could have really used.