Another Installment of Tales from the Cancer Chronicles

Don't know if anyone else will find this humorous.
Feel free to tell me that I'm the only one. Though Rachel thought it was pretty funny too, but I'm her mom and she's not a teenager yet, so it is her job to find things I might say or do funny if I think they are funny. In another year or two, she'll raise her eyebrows and turn away embarrassed.

Some of my fellow breast cancer gals will probably just nod their heads and not laugh at all because parts of this tale might be familiar.

After ballet tonight, I took Rachel to movies. We saw "The Last Mimzy." Really enjoyed it, although Rachel got a little scared in parts because her imagination works at full speed ahead and she starting jumping to conclusions that were much scarier than anything in the movie! LOL.

But, that's not the story.

Movies=popcorn. At least in my book. It's something Rachel and I do when we go to the movies together. We get popcorn. Bad for you, greasy, far too salty popcorn that you mindlessly plow through. The popcorn that destroyed my diet and calorie counting for the day. The same popcorn that occasionally goes astray and lands in places other than your mouth.

Now, that's the actual story in today's edition of the Cancer Chronicles.

Popcorn that goes astray.

In my former life, popcorn that went astray would land on my shelf. "What?" you say. "Where is a shelf?" "Just what is she talking about?" If you are asking those questions, you obviously don't have one. Don't forget that I was quite..... well..... well endowed before about 8:00 am on Sept 12, 2006. If a piece of popcorn missed my mouth, it would have landed on my natural built in shelf and I would have been able to just scoop it back up. In the wrong shirt, it could have landed inside, but it wouldn't have gone too far, thanks to the built in shelf. TMI? LOL. If it is TMI, then, once again, you must be one of those people without a shelf of your own. :P

As my faithful readers are aware, I have had major changes to my body and my shelf is gone. So, tonight, as popcorn went astray, I had issues. All sorts of issues. First, I reached down to find the popcorn on my chest aka former shelf aka silicone that has no neural tissue. Nope. No popcorn there. I felt it land on my neck/upper chest (the area exposed by my v-neck shirt.. same shirt you see in the photos but in red and a smaller, better fitting size), but didn't feel it after that. Uh oh. Must have gone INTO my shirt. It's a dark movie theatre, so I feel around and take a peek. No sign of the popcorn. Uh oh. I suddenly remember I had no feeling in the... um... boobage area. It could be in my bra!!! I would never know!!! The theatre is dark. I quickly try to take a peek and then .. yes.. I did it. I felt around. Kind of funny that if someone else were feeling around that same "neighborhood" and my eyes were closed, I wouldn't know. Despite copping a feel of my own silicone, there's STILL no sign of the missing popcorn. WTH? I don't get this at all. We were watching "The Last Mimzy," maybe it went into the future?

Where, oh, where is the missing popcorn?

Hmmm.. I am now realizing that perhaps this is perfectly obvious to those that don't have a shelf.

The missing piece of popcorn had landed in what should have been the obvious place, but not to me in this new body.

Are you still wondering?

I'm warning you. This is probably anti-climatic and the non-shelfers have already stopped reading because they know.

It was in my lap the whole time.

Apparently, if you only have a tiny shelf (more of a ledge than a shelf), things actually land in your lap.

Who knew? This wasn't in the owners manual that came with my breasts. And I do have an owners manual for them. Serial numbers too. OK. So, it's really a lengthy booklet with a consent form in it, but I like to think of it as my owner's manual.

You learn something new everyday. Or, is it that you can actually teach an old dog a new trick. :P