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The Big “C”…. Again!

I’ve been having a semi break from blogging recently, just too much important stuff going on.

I mentioned a while ago in a post for Clic Sargent that my mother in law had beaten the odds and recovered from Colon cancer fifteen years ago. Two years ago, the day before our wedding, she was diagnosed with breast cancer and after a two-year haul through chemo and radiotherapy, she beat that too!

However, the demon that is the “Big C” is determined for her to lose the fight as it has reared its ugly head once more. Three times?! How unlucky can one woman be?!

After a well deserved trip to Liguria a few weeks ago, my in-laws returned home with my mother in law complaining of headaches. The man of the house surely sent her off to bed with an aspirin and a hot water bottle thinking it was the change of weather having an effect.

The next morning my mother in law couldn’t stand. She had lost the use of her legs and all sense of balance. The headaches had worsened.

Numerous tests and cat scans at the hospital ensued and then the phone rang. My father in law, through choked back tears, told the Italian that the doctors had found three, not one, but three tumours on his mothers brain. We were stunned! Again? All this, again?!

As soon as you hear the words cancer and brain in the same sentence you automatically think negatively. The Italian, in his panic, wanted to get on a flight straight away but what could he do?

He is in the fifth week of a new job, I’m seven months pregnant and we live in another country. The feeling of uselessness is incredible.

I can’t begin to imagine what my husband is going through right now. I can’t imagine what my mother in law is going through right now. She’s sorry for the grand children, she said. Sorry for the grand child that I hope and pray she gets to meet in a few months time.

But that’s it isn’t it, time. Time. Far more precious than we give credit for.

I pray for time to stand still while the doctors do their tests. I pray for the time to hurry up while the doctors get the results and do something . I pray for time so that my mother in law meets her newest grandchild and that Bambina gets to kiss her Nonna again. I pray for time that my husband gets to say goodbye to his mother properly, if that’s what it comes to.

I pray that time will heal her… Again.

Related Articles:

The C Word (Tea & Biscotti)

Stand Up to Cancer UK

 
19 Comments

Posted by on October 18, 2012 in Italia

 

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My Breast Friends: BRAvellous!

Funny isn’t it how boobs have a life of their own, how they take on various guises. First they don’t exist and then over night WHAM!, there they are, perched like little bee stings ready to swell. If you’re really lucky they’ll develop quite quickly into a nice round, perfectly formed breast. Mine? Not like that at all. I had to put up with the bee sting – for quite some time.

I remember someone telling me my boobs were like fried eggs, flat with a big circle in the middle! That wasnt going to give me a complex was it?! I dreamed of big boobs. I wanted to have to massive melons that spilled over and gave me four boob syndrome! I’d have loved that! I wanted them to bounce when I ran down the stairs – but they never did, they just stayed still.

I don’t know how old I was when I developed a lovely bunch of coconuts but I was well into my twenties. And let me tell you, wherever there was a stair, I ran down it! Correction: I “jumped” down it!

BRAvellous!! I’ve got knockers, bazooka’s, melons! At last I’ve got a cleavage. I used to flat share with a girl who carried her mobile phone under her boob! I kid you not, it was about ten years ago – imagine how big the phone was! Imagine how big her boobs where! Bigger than my head probably! But still, I was envious. I was lucky if I could hold a pencil under mine.

In hindsight I was blessed to have had an average sized pert bosom. I didn’t need to wear a bra but of course I did. The first thing I did when I got home from school and later, even now when I get home the “W” place, was to take my bra off. One strap through one sleeve, the other strap through the other sleeve, clip open the back and pull – BRAvellous, its off!

Thats another thing, the taking off of bra’s. Some men can, some men think they can but a lot of men really really can’t. Stop trying. Give up. Fiddling with a bra strap ruins the moment, dont men understand that? Theyre probably disappointed when it comes off anyway. The scaffolding that plumped them and held them up, perfectly centred, nipples forward, suddenly gave way like a Tsunami and cockaspaniels ears come flapping down to the knees. Men, unless you want a surprise, leave the bra strap alone.

And then there’s breastfeeding. Boobs really are BRAvellous aren’t they?! To be able to produce milk on demand like that is something that I wasnt prepared for. It’s actually shocking to me how the boobs have such an important job, to feed a child! they are no longer an object of desire, for a while at least, but an udder.  They are ‘udderly’ BRAvellous!

So my once perfectly rounded and pert lady lumps are now oval-shaped, oblonged, dog ears not that dissimilar to an Amazonian woman.

They are important, BOOBS. They are needed, BOOBS. They are indeed a luxury, BOOBS.

I cannot imagine how it must be one day to find out that you might lose one or both of them. That they might take you with them when they go! I mean, how bloody selfish is that!

Breast Cancer is a wicked, evil disease that lays there like a ticking time bomb. BOOM! there you have it – a tumour. And the boobs that you’ve nurtured and caressed all your life, plumped up, put on show for all to see, suddenly become your enemy. Cut it off damn it!! I don’t want it anymore.. get rid! And we’ve come full circle. When you would actually prefer to be flat chested if only that tumour would sod off! Come back bee sting, all is forgiven!

You see it really is BRAvellous that we can shout about this. That we can raise awareness. That we can donate a bra. I mean, I have no idea how many bra’s I have in my draw that don’t fit and that aren’t appropriate nowadays. I don’t remember the last time I wore a push up or an underwire. These days I’d need a full on reconstructed Madonna-esq pointed cone just to stop the spread from falling out the sides.

I admit it.  My melons are confined to the comfort of their M&S maternity hammock and that’s were they will rest until further notice!

In the meantime, I wont be needing this so off it goes to Bra Chain:

To end this little ditty (I said Ditty!) I would like to pay homage to my bee stings – you really have been a joy! We’ve had some ups and some downs (mainly downs these days), we’ve been through great times and some rough times, been admired, been ignored but most of all, been loved. Boobies, you really are my breast friends. You’re flipping BRAvellous actually!

This is probably the nicest my bra’s have looked in ages – all dressed up with eyeshadow and pearls!

Related Links:

Dirty Laundry

Breakthrough Breast Cancer

Related Articles:

My Boobs are BRAvellous

Mother Knows Breast #1

Mother Knows Breast #2

Mother Knows Breast #3

The C Word

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Posted by on May 18, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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My Boobs are BRAvellous!

Lately, I have been getting slightly involved in charity work. Which, I must confess, was never my intention when I started blogging. It hadn’t even occurred to me to be honest with you. Yet, my little blog has taken another angle. I’m still the Italian’s wife, I’m still Bambina’s mamma but I’ve found a little something that gives me a fire in the belly. For this reason, I am planning to self-host my blog so that I can dedicate a whole section of “La Mia Bella Vita” to things that I as a person, not a wife, not a mother, like and that includes my little charity endeavours. Watch this space.

I have thoroughly enjoyed being involved in the Blog it for Babies, Save the children, campaign. I have absolutely adored being a co-founder of the Blogging4Madeleine campaign with the very talented A Mummys View.

And I am already, so so so so excited about my new little venture, in support of Dirty Laundry and Breakthrough Breast Cancer.  Dirty Laundry is the brainchild of Sharon Holland Taylor. It’s a stage production covering one woman’s effort to strive for a fulfilled future after recovering from breast cancer. Along the way, she receives support from an unexpected source.  Check out the Dirty Laundry link above for more details.

Breakthrough Breast Cancer are attempting a Guinness Book world record for the longest chain of bra’s.  Each bra representing a donation from a woman who gives a toss about her knockers!

And so, without further ado, Ladies and Gentlemen, I bring to you BRAvellous!!

You might want to know why I’m a bit obsessed with my melons.  I’ll tell you.  My gran died of cancer.  A few years ago my aunt had a mastectomy.  Last year, the day before my wedding whilst we were all sitting at lunch, my mother-in-law answered a call from the doctor who rang to confirm that she had a 5cm tumour in her right breast.  What was worse, as if it could get worse, was that her mother, my husbands 90-year-old grandmother, was already fighting breast cancer.

After living through the chemo, the radiotherapy, the steroids, the hair loss, the wigs (that was actually quite amusing!), I know first hand how it feels to live with the fear.  The fear that the treatment won’t work, the fear that the cancer will win, the fear that my daughter who was then in my belly would never meet her Nonna or great-Nonna.  It fills me with sheer delight to report that both women won! They fought hard and stomped all over that disease and lived to tell the tale.

To support Breakthrough Breast Cancer, I would love for you to join in my linky and write a post about what your boobies mean to you!  And this doesn’t have to be just from a woman’s point of view! Men, Dad’s, write a post of about your wife’s boobs, have they changed over the years, what was your involvement in the breastfeeding routines etc etc – boobs are for everyone, right?

There’s something else. I need your bra’s!!  Yep, YOUR bra!.  A new one, an old one, a used one (you know, the ones that have gone a bit grey in the wash that you stuff to the back of the draw as a last chance saloon, yeah, that one).  Any bra.  I’ve not yet figured out the best way to get the bra’s from you but bear with me…details to follow.  Your bra will then be a very important link in a very important world record chain to break breast cancer!

In your post, it would be great if you could:

♥ Link back to Dirty Laundry and Breakthrough Breast Cancer (and Tea&Biscotti if you’re feeling generous!)

♥ Tell us what your boobs mean to you

♥ Tell us about your bra’s: with bra? without bra? big bra? small bra? matching bra? not matching bra? You get the picture!

♥ You could even take a picture of the bra you are going to donate!

♥ And finally, make sure you upload it to the linky so that everyone can get familiar with your coconuts!

♥ Feel free to use (copy) the very bad example of a badge that I made (above) – (sorry, it was a very shoddy effort)

Admit it, fewer things in life feel better than taking your bra off at the end of a long day!

You heard it here first… BRAVellous….coming soon to a blog near you!

X-O-X

Related Articles:

Mother Knows Breast #1

Mother Knows Breast #2

Mother Knows Breast #3

The C Word

*Picture credits to www.victoriasecrets.com via Pinterest.

 
16 Comments

Posted by on May 7, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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