This disease called cancer has been around for centuries, yet it still remains one of the leading causes of death worldwide. Approximately 650 000 people every year die from some form of cancer.
On a world scale, breast cancer comes in as the 3rd highest cancer-causing death – after lung and bowel cancers.
In Australia, cancer is responsible for some 49 000 deaths EVERY year, and breast cancer sits behind lung, bowel, pancreatic and prostate cancers when we look at death rates in Oz.
‘Jo – this is not very funny. The title of this blog is Get Some Humour!’ I hear you say. (It is also the title of a great Jenny Morris song 😊)
Stay with me. I’m getting there….
Cancer is pretty serious stuff. It is easy to get overwhelmed with fear and trepidation, spiralling into a world of woe.
And why not?
It is a scary beast - an insidious disease that has killed around 10 million people in total. So when it comes knocking at your door, found without symptom in your breast at age 46, that fear suddenly becomes very real and palpable, not just statistics on a page.
My first thought was, ‘Am I going to die?’ The physical sensation of ‘mortality reality’ is hard to describe, but think stomach- in-your-mouth-terrifying, your worst nightmare, and that might take you there.
I’ll admit that I screamed and sobbed, felt petrified and sorry for myself many, many times.
But I also laughed.
Actually, I laughed a lot. I found that laughing in the face of adversity really had some serious benefits. I captured some funny moments both in words and pictures and made sure Show Us Your Tits showcased these.
For cancer is not only scary, it is quite absurd!
There is a lot to laugh at.
Take losing your hair for instance. What a confronting experience, especially for a woman!
I decided to laugh (and cry) about that!
As much as I would have loved to keep my hair, in the end it was not as important as kicking-cancer-to-the-kerb with a thorough course of chemotherapy.
And what about weight gain? I popped on a steady 8kg through cancer treatment and decided I looked like the toilet woman. I remember laughing uncontrollably when I walked into this toilet block and realised my silhouette was famously plastered not just on this one, but on all public toilets!
What I have to have a boob cut off now?
And what of breast amputation – aka mastectomy – another preposterous outcome from good ole breast cancer? If breast cancer is not caught early enough, then this surgery is often required. Some women are advised, or they decide, to have both breasts removed. There are many things taken into consideration, including: tumour size and location, breast size, age, and type of breast cancer. There is a lot involved in this decision, but ultimately your life takes precedent over a mound of fat and glandular tissue, that is, let’s face it, actually trying to kill you.
Come on now! How would your average bloke go, getting told he had to have a ball cut off? Pretty damn confronting. Right? And ball-less, is not as conspicuous than boob-less!
In my case, it was a no-brainer. My tumour was 3cm AND it had grown a couple of mini-mes, making it a multi-focal breast cancer (more than one site/tumour). My breast could now definitely be described as ‘behaving very badly’. Lefty had to go!
So, one DD boob to remain with a reconstruction, or remove both boobies?
I decided to keep one headlight and have tissue taken from my abdomen and fashioned into some sort of boob, where the real one once was.
But wait! There’s more!
Hairless, overweight, one boob and…….train track scar from the reconstruction!
Toot toot! Doesn’t this scar look like a train track? Thomas the Train can haul his freight right across my hip to hip, 50cm scar.
All of this palaver because some of my own cells decided to multiply uncontrollably in a milk duct and invade the surrounding breast tissue. That in a nut shell, is the absurdity of cancer – attempted murder by my own cells.
Geez that’s deep when you’re sitting on this side of the cancer fence.
Thank goodness for FREE mammograms from 40 though, because that sucker was deep in my breast tissue and was not able to be felt. Even when it was discovered (it lit up like a Christmas tree bauble on images), and my breast surgeon placed a cross with black texta on my breast, telling me to apply pressure, I could not feel it. Imagine, if that sneaky tumour had NOT been discovered when it was.
I shudder to think.
IMPORTANT NOTE! I’m going to go back here to DD just for larger-busted ladies reading this – tumours are harder to feel when your boobs are bigger and they decide to grow deep in the breast tissue – so please stay up-to-date with your mammograms!)
Cancer and its treatments have so much funny fodder to offer up for laughs. What else can one do, but make fun of the ridiculous situations one finds themself in?
I decided to laugh - whenever and wherever I could. It was the right way for me to tackle this life challenge.
Humour gave me confidence.
Humour gave me positive perspective.
Humour helped me get through my breast cancer shitfest.
I’ll sign off this blog with a couple of appropriate (or inappropriate) boob jokes.
What do train sets and boobs have in common?
They’re both meant for children, but grown-ups love them.
What do push up bras and a bag of chips have in common?
When you open them, they’re both half empty.
The existence of boobs proves one thing:
Guys CAN focus on two things at once.
JO xx
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