Lets talk about boobs again...

Can I say boobs? 

How about breasts.  That's more dignified, right? 

Wait, do I have to be dignified?  Am I a dignified blog/blogger? 

More importantly am I a dignified person? 

That I at least feel strongly about.  Yes, I am a dignified person.  Blog/blogger, you tell me. 

Let me let you in on a little secret.  Or two.  One, Spell Check has let me know I do not know how to correctly spell dignified on my own.  Two, when nervous or worried (etc.) I make jokes.  Really horrible, mostly ill timed jokes. 

So on with the meat and potatoes of this post.  Boobs. 

Er, breasts. 

For some odd reason I cannot get away from talking about broobs.  Does that work?  Cuz in trying to type one of the before mentioned words broobs is what came out.  I'm going with it. 

I guess because my broobs are as large as they are, people feel the need to comment, talk to them or about them to me and to other people.  I get accidentally poked, jabbed, grabbed and nudged.  I, also, get "accidentally" poked, jabbed, grabbed and nudged as well.  Oh, the "accidentally" on purpose ones are always fun. 

Today, though, today I feel the need to talk about my broobs.  They have been on my mind a lot lately.  Almost as much as they've been on my body.  Which has been a lot.  All the time, in fact.

See... bad, uncomfortable jokes.  Anyway.

Thursday night I was in my PJ's and Remington (always Remington) decided to use me as a jumping off board on one of his crazy run around the apartment like a maniac episodes.  He landed on the most uncomfortable place possible.  My broob.  Man, let me tell you it HURT.  Like more than I figured it should.  While holding the insulted area I felt what appeared to be a little lump.  On my broob.  Okay, IN my broob.  Did I mention I was in my PJ's.  PJ's = sans bra.  Who wears a bra to bed?  Not this girl. 

A bit concerned by the pain & the possible lump I checked things out and sure enough, I felt a little lump in my broob.  Of course, I did what any rational adult woman would do.  I FREAKED OUT for a moment.  Or two.  It was late at night, my BFF was out of town & Remington just didn't understand all the hubbub.  Nor did Parker or Cyrus. 

Once the rational adult woman returned I realized there was nothing to do at the moment and freaking out wouldn't do anything so I shoved it as far back in my mind as I could and went to bed.  The next morning as soon as I could I did what I could.  I called and made a doctors appointment. 

Which leads to today.  I had my doctors appointment.  I went in sat in a cold sterile doctors office patient room, in what felt like 50 degree air conditioning, and let my primary physician feel me up.  I'm pretty sure my last boyfriend didn't feel me up that well...maybe ever.  I sorta felt cheap afterwards.  I think I should have gotten lunch after all that, you know.

Instead she gave me a work order to a lab so I can go get a mammography.  Which is apparently better than a mammogram.  It's digital.  So not only do I get to be felt up again, by a complete stranger this time, but I get to go high tech to do it.  But still there will be no lunch.  Really, what does a girl have to do to get a lunch around here?!  Depending on what the mammography says I may have to have an ultrasound if needed for further diagnostics.  

Aren't you jealous.   

My doctor thinks its probably fibersomethingorothers.  When I google that the most likely term is... Fibrocystic.  Or what I like to call lumpy broobs.

Bad jokes aside, and that I probably have rather super large lumpy broobs, my point in all of this over sharing is to make sure those of you out there who have broobs takes care of them.  And themselves.  Part of doing that is to do a monthly self check of the broobs.  I know we all think we should and we nag our friends, sisters, mothers, daughters, anyone else with broobs to do so themselves but I bet most of us don't do it ourselves.  Practice what I preach, not what do sort of thing. 

So seriously, don't wait for your yearly woman's health check up to have your doctor feel your broobs up to check for lumps & other abnormalities.  Do it yourself.  Feel yourself up and then dammit take yourself to lunch.  Or dinner if it was really good.  If you have a significant other, have them double check after you are done.  You know, because a second opinion is always helpful.  And in this case fun.  Plus, then you can have them take you out for lunch or dinner.  Or even a movie if it was THAT good. 

I'll probably let you all know how cool high tech feeling up & everything is next week after my appointment on the 20th. 

Until then be low tech & feel your broobies!