Here I am sitting in the sun looking back over 20 years of marriage.When I was in primary school I once wrote a story in religion class, we had to say what we wanted to do when we grew up. I still don’t think I’ve grown up but my god I have learnt a lot along the way. Now in my story I had written ” I won’t get married until I am 28 because by then I will have traveled the world and did lots of things”. Perfect English !
And here I am 20 years married today and yes I got married when I was 28.
You make your vows. Now in my days the vows were straight forward – for rich or poor – in sickness and in health…I feel so old saying in my day but hey I ain’t a spring chicken and now vows are so much more fancy…” I will love you until the sea’s run dry and the end of the world is nigh”, well you better hurry up hon, with climate change we might not have much time.
So in sickness and in health. We made that vow I suppose not really thinking sickness and bad health would ever knock on our door. Sure we were young, fit and fab..we were invincible.
And here I am 20 years later, not quite the package that young chap signed up for , but together looking back at a photo album and saying ” In all fairness we have been dealt some load of shite”
But we are still together, loosing twins born too early did not break us,me being in hospital for three months on my son did not break us, all the silly stuff did not break us , and me getting cancer and Losing the boob, the hair and really my identity ..well it didn’t break us.
And as the years of marriage flew by I found myself looking in the mirror and wishing I could wind back the clock and look like I was 28 again. I had decided that if I had the Euro’s I would bet a boob job. Get the girls put back in place and maybe a little bit off. My mother said after that if I had wanted a boob job I had sure gone about it the wrong way.
And then one day I was signing a form to allow a surgeon to take a boob away.
Now reconstruction would eventually be an option and my sisters always trying to be positive and encourage me talked about how fab I would be with two new ” diddies” . Be jaysus I’d be bouncing around like one of your ones on Love Island – new diddies and a bit of fake tan. I would be soooo fab.
And down we walked , down to theatre..surreal really!
The anaesthetist came out, went through every detail of what lay ahead. She was the modern day version of Patch Adams. Full of kindness, empathy and made me feel just so important.
Michael started to cry. The enormity of what lay ahead hit base, I started to cry , jesus christ this was it..please let me wake up, please look after me.
And then I had to go, go in and put myself in the hands of a surgeon and his team. There was nothing I could do now only go asleep.I was going for a boob job, not the one I wanted but a boob job none the less.
And all the while, even when I lay on the bed to get the anaesthetic one thing kept going through my mind.
“Be careful what you wish for , it might just come through”.
The Lonely Boob 