I am tired of the surgeries, and the random growths. I am sick and tired of the way you make yourself comfortable in my body in every place YOU see fit. I am tired of futile attempts to get rid of you. You are like the bad house guest! I am tired of your ability to strike fear in the core of my soul. I am tired of worrying about every lump and bump. I am tired of MRIs and ultrasounds. I am tired of waiting for results and worrying, and then testing all over again.
I gave you my breasts… cancer and all. And I am glad I did. The new ones are becoming more “normal” every day. Tomorrow you get my uterus and my ovaries. Cancer or not – you can keep those too. Just stop taunting me with your growths, and your risks. Stop whispering in my ear. It’s getting on my nerves.
You can’t beat me. You certainly won’t beat my baby. Not on my watch.
Back off. I am in no mood. Bite Me Cowden’s – I am TIRED!