I went to get my boob filled today.

Seriously.

I bought a Venti Starbucks Skinny Vanilla Latte to fill my belly, then reclined on a table while the good doctor inserted a needle and pumped 100 ml of saline into the expander.  I made him stop at 100 because my pectoral muscle was tweaking.  But now I think he could have gone at least 50 more.  I have 200 ml to go yet, but several months to get there.  Can’t swap expander for gummy bear until I’m done with chemo.

Speaking of which.  I start dose dense chemo on the 30th.  Every two weeks for the first round, then every week for the second.  Oh yeah.  Right now I plan to post pictures of the  baldness…but we’ll see when it happens…lol, I may just not be able to put you through it.  All five people who read my blog.

Unless of course I buy a costume…hmmm……that idea is now simmering…back burner.

Still it was nice to get a boob fill today, progress and all.

I asked for a customer loyalty, frequent user card.  Ya know, so I can swipe it next time I’m in for a fill; maybe get some free points, some free coffee, something.

The plastic surgeon didn’t think it was funny.

I threatened to take my business elsewhere.

Still didn’t crack a smile.

Oh well.  He doesn’t have to have a sense of humor, he’s a frigging top notch surgeon.  (And handsome to boot.   Always a plus when boobs are involved.) 

Doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying to see his pearly whites tho. 

As I was leaving, we scheduled the second fill.  I told him the next time he saw me, I’d be a fat hunch back (steroids, IV and pills) and bald (chemo)….but he’d recognize the awesome rack.

Still.  Nothing.

Not even a smirk.

Some people...

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Life is too short for self-delusion.”

I don’t know who said it; if anyone ever officially took credit for coining the phrase. But lately? In my life?

Truer words are hard to find.  (For some reason this plays out in my head like a country music tune.  Truer woooooooooords are haaaard tooooooooo fiiiiiiiiiind.)

I think most people lie to themselves at least once a day. (Probably much more than once. Has to be. Have you seen some of the winter “fashion” this year? And STRETCH PANTS ARE BACK!! REALLY?!? We’re fatter than we’ve ever been as a culture and STRETCH PANTS ARE BACK?! Somebody’s doing some BUTT FAT LYIN!)

BC (before cancer) I believed a certain amount of lying to myself was acceptable. I mean how can we get through life being totally, brutally honest at all times with ourselves?

For instance. Gain a few pounds?  Blame it on “middle age spread” rather than the fact I’ve eaten more calories than I’ve burned.

If I actually tell myself the truth, it might require I change an eating behavior (i.e., giving up chocolate or some other well loved high calorie food), or actually begin a NEW one, like exercising more, or in a different way.  Or, god forbid, give up complaining about the size of ass.  (Like that’s gonna happen.)

BC, I was a big saver. Ask my husband. I liked to pay cash for vehicles, drive them until the doors fell off, and live without debt. I set a household budget, and no matter how many promotions and pay increases our household saw; never increased the budget by more than 40% total over a 20 year period (no matter where we lived, or the # of people, pets, activity in the family). Try living in Alaska on a Florida budget. Not. Easy.

Maybe it was going hungry as a kid; maybe greed. Did I have to save so much? Was it necessary for several years to save 50-60-70% of our household income?

Who knows.

If I live long enough, I may be a  big saver again. Right now though? I’m a big SPENDER.

Why?

I tell myself … “Can’t take it with you.”

Truth?

I deserve to spend some of the money I’ve studiously, religiously, saved all my adult life. (Don’t get me wrong. You can’t take a frugal saver and just turn things around. When I say spend I mean:  I go to buy clothes and purchase what I like with cash, (some habits are hard to break) EVEN WHEN IT’S NOT ON SALE!! And the Christmas budget for the kids is officially doubled. (Thank you Toys R Us for accommodating this change of philosophy ).

Truth inside the truth?

I may be dead next year. This could be our last Christmas.  So what’s a few thousand dollars compared to giving the kids a Christmas I really want them to have and buying clothes for winter right now? Besides, I didn’t save my whole life to make my husband’s next wife comfortable! She can save her own damn money!!

~sniff~

Sorry, I digress sometimes when I think about her. But that’s a whole nuther topic.

So, self delusion isn’t always about such shallow topics like spending money and ass size. Those are just the only personal ones palatable enough for public consumption.

The “what” of the delusion isn’t as important as the “why” of it any way.

Changing behavior/philosophies usually isn’t fun and can be HARD WORK.. So that’s one reason we lie to ourselves. But occasionally I think the truth behind the truth should be pulled out, examined, accepted or rejected as personal choice/belief dictates.

So that’s what I’ve been doing. Looking at the truth behind the truth behind many personal emotions/actions/beliefs.  Confused yet?

Good.  We’re making progress..lol

For the record, when it comes to ass size?

Truth?

I don’t want to be old. Being old means I’m tired; closer to death. Being old means I have to give up being young. Being old means my time is almost done and I should shut up and sit down already.

Truth behind the truth?  That’s just our culture talkin.

Being old (well lets be super honest, at this point, being old would be a gift), for me, is however I choose to define it. I want to be an uber fit, snow boarding, gray haired (or bald, whatever) woman. I want my grandkids to say… “We’re going to see Grandma Tonya. Better rest up!”

You don’t get to define what being “old” is for me anymore than I get to do that for you.

Unless I let you.

Unless you let me.

So how does looking at the truth behind the truth affect the size of my ass?  The knowledge frees me to find a comfortable able-to-run-my-grandkids-in-the-dirt me as I define it.

And you know what? I don’t have to be what our culture says I should be (as if that were ever really a big problem for me), just, healthy, robust, and LIVING….lol.

Then there is always the truth, behind the truth, behind the truth.

But um, NONE of those are available for public consumption.

So, truth?

I’m off…. gotta go shopping…there is a pair of stretch pants out there with my name on them!

And they aren’t even on sale!!