an Ode to my Boob:
Actually I cannot write poetry very well, but I have always loved the word Ode, and I figured that if I'm getting my booby cut off, then I can pretty much use whatever damn word I like, even if it's not perfectly accurate.
My SIL, M, has a friend who wrote the most wonderful poetry for her bridal shower a few weeks ago. She included a poem with every present -she even wrote a sonnet about her bath mat! That is some cool friend!!
Alas, my post today will NOT include a sonnet about my boob, but I might have to talk to my SIL and ask her if her friend could write a nice one for my boob, posthumously.
Today is my last day with my boob. Tomorrow I will be the one-boob wonder. I realize only for a few months while I work on expanding my new - stretch mark free! - robo-boob. But these past few days I've been taking moment here and there to admire, squeeze, bathe, gaze at, caress, tan, oil, perfume and rub ointment into my surgical incision above my nipple so that my booby will look as nice as possible on the day it gets cut off.
I cannot imagine what it will be like to have it gone after 40 years together. (well, actually, 40 minus 14 since that is the age I was when they popped out, overnight, practically) and became what they are today.
When I was 25 and my boobs were fabulous, I lived for awhile on my own in a one bedroom apartment in E.Lansing, right off MSU campus. It was a very spacious one bedroom, and when my good girlfriend at the time divorced her husband and abusive stepson, I let her move in with me and share it while she got back on her feet.
We had an amazing time together, she is hysterically funny, and used to call up the am radio show in town and do all sorts of characters for the dj's that she was friends with. Due to necessity of timing for our jobs ,and the fact that I had only one bathroom, we ended up getting ready in the bathroom at the same time. (and also because ALL girl room-mates giggle, have pillow fights and jump on the bed whenever they have the opportunity to do so, just watch 'the man show', it's totally true.) but....I digress....
The bathroom was such that the vanity/sink was separated by a little alcove from the shower tub and toilet, so there was a bit of privacy there. My friend K, would get up first, shower and then start to get ready at the sink. I would get up, and shower while she was in there, and inevitably when I would turn the water off and open the curtain to get my towel, she would say, dramatically (and with an Australian accent)..."dum dum dum...it's NAKED WOMAN" (imagine Robin Leach saying "these are the livestyles of the rich and famous and you will get an impression of what this sounded like. If you are too young to ask "who's Robin Leach?", I'm going to have to ask you to leave this blog and never speak to me again). It was hysterical. She cracked me up every time. Eventually, since we also liked to go to a bar at MSU campus and play serious pool and drink Sam Adams in large mugs, we decided that we had to come up with a super hero comic strip storyline that was about "Naked Woman".
By day, a mild mannered customer service representative, by night, dum dum dum it's NAKED WOMAN and her side kick, Sudsy Girl. Naked woman's super power was her mesmerizing breasts. One look at her mesmerizing breasts, and the villain would be instantly struck powerless, thus allowing capture, arrest, and ultimate incarceration as necessary. Sudsy Girl was covered in a big pile of soap bubbles that floated around after Naked Woman and helped her out, as all good side kicks do.
The beauty and subtlety of the comic strip version of Naked Woman (which, unfortunately never came to fruition) was that the reader never actually got to SEE Naked Woman naked. This, in my opinion is what made it ART and not just porn. :) Maybe you'd see her dark silhouette cast from a streetlamp while she apprehended her villain. Maybe just a leg, or an arm or a portrait shot in the frame, but no one EVER got to see Naked Woman in all her glory. It was just too overwhelming, sort of like viewing a god in greek mythology....just not possible.
The other beauty of the idea was this- It was TOTALLY plausible! How many petty criminals and thieves (alright I'm being a little sexist here) would stop and stare at a completely naked young woman who told them to "STOP RIGHT THERE!" They TOTALLY would!!!
Alas, my friend K moved out and on with her life, I found my hubby, got married, got pregnant, got old and saggy and NAKED WOMAN moved on into the shadowy recesses of memory.
But..... if this were the movie version of that comic strip that never was.....in the final scene....NW would be on the table, undergoing the mastectomy and reconstruction and faintly, as a voice-over, you'd hear a man's voice speaking to sudsy girl......"we can rebuild her, we can make her firmer, perkier, stretch-mark free....we can bring her back!"
Cut to black........
this is not the end.....