Monday, May 10, 2010

Life .. according to Notting Hill

I admit it my favourite movie is Notting Hill. What can I say Hugh Grant, Julia Roberts good combination. More importantly I have established my own philosphy of life according to Notting Hill.

Who hasn't had that moment in the car where everyone is trying to tell you where to go - "James Bond doesn't have to deal with this shit". Ask my children they will tell you.

Who, when things seem out of control doesn't need to get a little "perspective" - there are in fact children starving in the Sudan (or wherever).

But let's face it my favourite is "they're only breasts every second person has them".

Well I don't. Not real ones anyway. Well, they are kind of, it is difficult to explain.

I went for a massage with a new person - my first in this country. I'd just done a gruelling flight back from spending some quality time with the boy child (spending being the operative word) the back was a wee bit stiff - no sleep but 8 movies later needed a bit of a rub down. The man in my life greeted me with red roses and a massage appointment - he is a gem (well except for the vision thing).

How do you explain when you're standing there in front of the masseur in your knickers that you don't like your front being massaged mainly because your front is reconstructed breasts that feel funny when they are touched. She is lovely and I tried to explain. She looked and looked. Tilted her head .. and then had to have a feel. Then I got the best massage I've had in years.

Breasts are breasts except when they're not. These kind of look like them naked, really don't feel like them, but clothed no one would have any idea!

I'm pretty proud of them. They took a lot of effort - apart from the double mastectomy there were 3 infections and 7 lots of surgery finishing with nipple reconstruction and tattooing. I'm pretty stoked so's the man in my life.

I think the surgeon who put it all back together for me was pretty stoked too - I think he was also probably glad to see the end of me after all that - if there was a risk of something going wrong, my number seemed to come up every time. He was a patient man.

If anyone wants to see them I'm happy to show off. I figure it only helps to debunk the myths and fears around breast cancer. They're pretty cool.

So here I am in a country that's modest and I have to cover them up. That's OK. I know they are there. I don't have to have them taken away again and I never have to have another mammogram - there are some advantages.

How about that for a little "perspective".

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