Monday, April 20, 2009


I have a serious LOVE/HATE relationship with my boobs.
Love that there still kinda perky, despite being huge... Hate that I know there eventually gonna be saggy enough to tuck into my socks.
My first bra was a 12C, unfortunately I wasn’t 16.. I had pretty much only just turned 11.
Fast forward 12 years later, my bust size has increased.
Depending on the bra the biggest size I’m going up to is a 16E.
I kinda look at my boobs sometimes and think, OH no there not that big. Then I realize that wait a second my bra fits on my head comfortably as a hat.

I realised recently that between all the weight I’ve put on and the fact that I have naturally large boobs.. I can barely see my toes when I look down.
I don’t like to talk about the fact that my mother died from Breast Cancer.
She was young when she was diagnosed, only 41 and people will probably see this and say no no 25 is a young age to get breast cancer but what a lot of people don’t understand is that breast cancer is much more common in women over 55 than it is with anyone else.

My mother did not make the most informed decisions when dealing with her Breast Cancer. She had a two lumps removed, and most of the lymp nodes under her air.
Only 2 of which tested positive for the cancer. She then made the decision to have radiation as her only form of after care treatment.
These two decisions are ones that almost without a doubt the ones that cost her, her life.
After the surgery and radiation my mother made what was said to be a full recoverey.
She had follow up appointments and mammograms every year as she was meant to.

In August of 2005 mum was given the 5 year all clear. Making it to this point after breast cancer is one of the mile stones in order for the disease to be unlikely to return. 1 month later she suffered a seizure which revealed she had 11 metastatic tumours in her brain.

She was given between 1 month and 1 year to live. Relative to treatment.
She took as much radiation, chemo and medication as they would give her. But ultimately she lost her fight on December 3rd 2006 which she slipped into a coma and then on December 4th she took her last breath in this world.
Might I add that my mother.. my strong and determined mother went shopping for a new pair of shoes just 3 days before she died. This was the day she allowed herself to go into palliative care, such a rebel that she was 4 hours late to be booked in because she insisted her and my brother go shopping and have some lunch.
I get my feisty side from her.

Because I have a history of more than 7-8 different cancers through-out my family I have been offered the choice of genetic counselling.
In particular I am interested in screening for the breast cancer gene. I am torn between my love for my boobs, and the knowledge that if I have this gene I will most likely make the decision to remove my breasts in order to prevent myself from getting the cancer.
More and more women are being faced with this decision.
I know I’m young. I know that even if I test positive for the gene that I may NOT get the cancer.
But my mother died at 49 years of age. I wouldn’t want this to be my fate. I made the decision years ago when she was first re-diagnosed. I promised that if I ever got diagnosed I would have a mastectomy regardless of how far along the cancer had progressed.
I really am torn between even getting the tests done and just putting myself in god’s hands.
My boobs are a part of me, they obviously don’t define me but they are a huge part of who I am. They define my body basically because I’m a fat chick, that’s the one bonus I get.
I don’t know what I was doing really with posting this, but I do monthly or sometimes weekly breast checks and I was thinking about it while doing mine last night.
So can I just ask, to anyone who has read this...
What would you do?
Have you or would you screen for the disease, and if you were diagnosed would you consider an elective mastectomy?
Xx Caragh