Spotlight on 5 Valuable Things my MRI Actually Revealed

I slid into a tube, on my knees, draped over a barrel. With my head tucked in, arms stretched ahead Super Girl style, my hooters hung out like socks on a clothesline. Headphones in place, I closed my eyes & tried to melt into the techno beat of an MRI machine. 

Just before this high tech breast exam started, the technician suggested I not breathe too deeply, because that would move the chesticles & the whole ordeal would take longer.  

Maybe the breathing note was the last straw, or maybe the whole scene was written and no amount of improv on my part could have changed the plot. With every whoop-whoop of the machine, I felt the panic rising. 

I tried to go to my happy place. I tried not to breathe deeply and yet still meditate. When that failed I tried to sing show tunes, tell myself jokes, sing 99 bottles of beer... 

Then I heard the technician say, "You're doing great, ma'am. Only 17 more minutes. How are you doing?" 

Yeah... That's when I lost my shite. 

In the few minutes that followed, while the techs talked me down from the ledge and back into the machine, I learned 5 very valuable things:  

• It does help to focus on the big picture. I was not there for myself; I was there for my family. Truly, if I were a single woman I think I'd have said fuck it and left. But with my family history of breast cancer, having this screening is important as both a parent and a wife. So I needed find a way back in that tube. 

• I can handle any of my fears if I can look them in the eye. (When I can't, I lose my shite.) I've long known I'm a bit of a control freak. But as the techs were asking me what they could do to get me to go on with the test, I realized this was more than just giving up control. I was freaked out because I couldn't use my sight to focus outside of my position. TRYING to look around was my problem. In this situation, I had to close my eyes and rely on my other senses. 

• When I can't see, I need to feel my way. I don't necessarily mean with my heart. I mean literally. When the tech took my hands & told me I could handle this; even blind and barely able to breathe, I believed her. To her credit, that wonderful lady stood outside the MRI tube, while I held on for dear life. There is great power and healing in the human touch. 

• When I really can't handle my situation, the bravest thing I can do is speak up & ask for help. I am the strong one, the one who endures and tries very hard not to complain. Yet as a mom, I tell my kids when they feel like they can't be brave, they can lean on me & together we can face anything. The reason, I say, is asking for help shows more bravery than anything else. In the middle of my panic attack, I was reminded mommy is also stronger when she lets herself be vulnerable & accepts that she cannot tackle everything on her own. 

• Oh, and the final thing I learned during my breast MRI? Mammograms are NOT the most uncomfortable thing I have ever done with my boobs. Actually, this whole experience was seriously awkward. Physically & emotionally. Of course, the most valuable lessons are often uncomfortable to learn. 

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Help Ninja Pirate Fairies Save the TaTas

Buy this shirt at 

teespring.com/NinjaPirateFairies

Ok, so this is one part history, one part plea for help. Five Months ago I posted a piece about the impact breast cancer has had on my life & why on Wednesdays I wear pink. 

I started my ‪#‎onwednesdayswewearpink‬ campaign as a very personal reminder to honor my family history & to raise my voice. Even if only a few people saw it on my Facebook page.

I spent a few weeks trying to figure out how to shine a light on the boobs without always talking about them. Then I realized that just like I had in the offline (real) part of my life, it needed to be part of the natural order of things. 

Because I am not so fearless I can spend a whole day every week talking about breast cancer. What I am doing is spending a whole day every week promoting awareness for a cause that has always been my battle. Because these boobs are worth fighting for. 

So I decided on Wednesdays I would change my profile & cover photos to different breast cancer awareness T-shirts. I reminded my "Ninja Pirate Fairies" (what I call my page followers) to join me. Then I got into a habit of "dropping off" pink t-shirts to other pages as a reminder that #OnWednesdayWeWearPink.

And ya know, something amazing happened. Slowly other pages joined me in the Pink Wednesday campaign. I had honestly never imagined other pages would be changing profile photos, posting their fun finds on my page & echoing my message. Reminding everyone to #CheckTheirHumpsForLumps, #SaveTheTaTas, and #SaveARack. 

Not just one month out of the year. Every. Week. Amazeballs.

Now I'm trying something a bit bolder.  I want to raise a little money for Living Beyond Breast Cancer, so I'm selling these Ninja Pirate Fairies Save The TaTas t-shirts through teespring.com. 

The deal with this is that it is crowdsourced, so in order to print the shirts, we must reach our goal in less than 3 weeks. No matter if we sell 30 or 300 of these - 100% of the proceeds will be donated. 

It's a small goal, to be sure. But since I never thought anyone would join my cause, I feel crazy even giving this a go.

I'm super excited. And a bit frightened it won't work.  So I need all the help I can get. 

Why is it on Wednesdays I Wear Pink?

"On Wednesdays we wear pink" is a line from the smart and funny movie Mean Girls. So the short explanation for why I've adopted this rule is because I like celebrating something that is smart and funny. However, for me it is much more than that.

If you were around at the beginning of April 2014, you know about a little thing Hot Mess Mom called #Underboobpalooza. Maybe you noticed - it had FB buzz for a few days. It was a funny way to go about raising awareness and money for breast cancer research.

I love to find the silver linings, so I shared, posted, and prodded at folks to participate in this serious silliness. I also vowed to post my own #underboob on my FB page when the goal was met. That looked a little something like this:

As promised, check out #TheDoctor Potato Head lending his support for HMM's Underboobpalooza.
In fact, he's also supporting the site of one of my very own surgical biopsy scars.
So far I've been #cancerfree, but this disease gallops through my family. While Hot Mess Mom put the fun in this fundraiser - this campaign has also been very personal. It was important for me to lend my voice via this page & I greatly appreciate your support.
The initial goal for this one-week campaign of $10,000+ for breast cancer research was reached today, & HMM's Underboobpalooza page will remain active. You can also be sure come October I will be out waiving a pink flag to raise awareness & dollars.

Being a part of this fundraiser sparked something in me, and I although I didn't know it until I was typing that status I had decided that I NEEDED to do more.

I've known about breast cancer all my life, literally. My grandmother, and both her daughters - my mom and my aunt - all had breast cancer, each with different outcomes. While they didn't all die from the cancer, all of them are gone now. Unfortunately I don't really have their medical history, and know much less about the cancer history of our extended family.

Honestly, when I was young I was happy enough not to know details. Because - seriously - cancer is scary.

I knew enough to know that I had a target on my back. 

Before I was 30, when a doctor was alarmed and wanted first a sonogram, then a needle biopsy  I knew I would say yes. I knew when the oncologist took one look at my chart and asked if she could schedule a surgical biopsy right away - just days before Christmas - that I could not think twice. Thankfully, I also soon knew the undeniable relief of hearing the results were clear.

In the years following my biopsies I was encouraged to get genetic testing. I balked. I couldn't wrap my brain around why I would do it. As I couldn't see myself having preventative mastectomies. Wouldn't I just be getting a more detailed look at the Sword of Damocles hanging over my head? No, thanks, I'll just wait 'til it falls.

Of course, I was young and all those ladies in my family were still alive. Plenty of time to worry about it later.  Get more info from the women who had lived to tell the tale... But like the testing, I put off the hard conversations and then it was too late.

Mom and my aunt died six months apart; they have been gone almost a decade. When my grandmother lost both her daughters,  not terribly long after her husband died, she understandably let most painful things retreat from her mind. 

So, there I was: Last woman standing. Alone, being the only female of my generation to blossom on that branch of the family tree.

I admit to getting pissed off about my own naïveté, as well as the way my family handled the subject. I should know more. And they should be here to tell their stories and guide me. 

So few months back I had a mammogram. And then immediately a sonogram. Bonus - I'm also one of those lucky ladies for whom such diagnostic tools are almost inconclusive. So while neither showed anything of any real concern, again doctors have strongly urged me to get genetic testing. ASAP.

I'm 2 months away from my 40th birthday. My family history is scary and I have a decision to make. Because now I'm a mom and an aunt. I have a daughter, as does my brother. So I'm thinking I need to learn all I can so they can have answers.

Wow - What in the hell does ALL of that have to do with Wearing Pink on Wednesdays?

Well just this: #Underboobpalooza made me realize that I needed to stop ignoring the Scary Sword of Cancer. I needed to reach up and grab it.

Oddly, or perhaps not so unpredictably, when I reached out the first thing my brain grabbed was that movie quote. And it just clicked:

• I will wear pink on Wednesdays to remind myself that I AM IN the fight against breast cancer.
• I wear pink because I will face my fears & I will fight like a girl.
• I wear pink to honor all the women I know who have had to take up the fight against breast cancer.

I wear pink on Wednesdays to honor my mom, and my aunt, and my grandmother. Of course, those ladies were all really smart & funny. So I guess the short answer works for them too.