These are my breasts, at least these are them in 2003 when I went on an amazing trip with my husband to Spain. They have always been a source of issue with me. When I was young they never seemed big enough and when they finally got "big" enough I didn't like the attention that they garnered.

I like them when I need them, like to fill out a provocative gown or on the beaches of Ibiza. But, I don't like the way that they make my clothes fit or the stares that they get when I give them a little bit of freedom. Men are often very inappropriate when they see them, as if they are are not connected to me....like they are a billboard on the side of the road that deserves notice and comment.

But, I was looking forward to losing some weight and shopping at the Gilly Hicks at the mall in my neighborhood. In fact for my birthday on December 26th, my husband got me a gift certificate for $150.00 to spend with a note that said "when you feel ready". I had great visions of shopping at this store. I would be thin and fit and after a bit of sushi at Katsuya my husband and I would walk into together and pick the perfect pieces for a Vegas trip, a night on the town, whatever the situation I would feel comfortable shopping for beautiful lingerie, something I couldn't do now.

But yesterday my dreams were put on hold. My boobs, breasts, tits, milk jugs, knockers, etc. turned against me. I received a letter from my doctor that my mammogram showed something that wasn't there last time. Something in my left breast. I opened that letter honestly thinking it would be nothing, I almost didn't open it and when I read that they needed to do further studies, I wasn't sure how to respond. I pulled my car over and cried and then I called my husband and cried some more.

My Great Grandmother Gram died from breast cancer, but she was 90. My Grandmother died of cancer, but she also had lung cancer so what came first? My mother was diagnosed with cancer 3 years ago, but she's been clean for the last to years, she's the first survivor. All I keep thinking is which will I be? The youngest to die in our family or another survivor? Or will it be nothing?

Everyone keeps telling me not to worry. They Doctor didn't schedule an ultrasound for a week, so people assume that that means they are not worried. But, I'm worried! I keep thinking about all the things I haven't done. All the things I haven't taught my daughter. Who will tell her to brush her teeth, take a shower? Who will teach her to cook? Who will be there when she has a question that only a mother could answer?

For now I'll keep my fingers crossed and I'll hold back the tears until I have the ultrasound next Friday. They let me know that because it is a call back the doctor and radiologist will be there to immediately examine the results and let me know. This time I had to wait two weeks, next time I'll be to nervous to wait.

I almost considered having a mastectomy when I was thirty, just to prevent the cancer from having a place to call home, but I was talked out of it. Now I wish I would have just done it.