You probably have no idea what this blog post is gonna be about.
It’s about boobs!
Actually, it’s about breasts and cancer and a promise I made to a 50 some year-old woman sobbing on the floor of her tightly enclosed bedroom closet hanging with garments that were soon to be too large for her frame.
Days before…
The word suspicious has never been one of my favorites and even less so now. Something ‘suspicious’ had been found during a routine breast MRI. It lead to a MRI guided biopsy and eventually to a breast cancer diagnosis. It became clear, with my family history and the nature of the tumor, there was no nipping and tucking this cancer away. So I made the heart-wrenching decision to have a double mastectomy.
Keeping you abreast of my history…
I had started blooming, as I like to jokingly say, when I was in sixth or seventh grade. At the time, I was still climbing trees and chasing frogs so I didn’t mind or even much notice the tiny buds growing on my chest.
But the boys did. And crusty men at Target.
I began to feel a little betrayed by the curves that were becoming curvier each month.
I fought to love my body as a young person, and was teased for having little breasts. Boys would call me “stuffer”, roughly-grab my arm or hair and stick their hand down my shirt, pinch me, then run away and laugh.
The good news was being curvy made me feel close to nature. That may sound strange yet I know there are some people who will understand what I mean.
I learned to love my body, every curvy, freckle-filled inch.
This self-love helped me attract the love of my life.
And when I nursed for the first time, the shackles of shame I didn’t realize I was caring, disappeared. So much was healed during that beautiful time in my life.
My heart forever holds the memory of my children laying against my chest as they fell asleep or while I read them books, comforted them, or hugged them hello or goodbye.
I was a part of Mother Nature, lovingly offering my family an abundance of comfort via my body and soul.
On a warm and sunny autumn day in 2021, I walked into Abbott Northwestern Hospital in Minneapolis Minnesota and traded my breasts for life.
Strange that pain
As the caring staff helped prepare my body for something that would remove the small cancerous tumor above my left nipple, and every inch of breast tissue along with it, I silently thanked G-d for my life and my loves, and for my beautiful breasts.
The aroma in the procedure room filled my nostrils and stung my eyes. As I looked down, the needle slid into the flesh of one breast, then the next, filling them with a dye that would help the surgeon during my mastectomy.
The pain of the fluid going through my breasts was absolutely excruciating.
It would be the last time I felt anything there at all.
Looking back with love and gratitude…
Looking back, I cherish those last moments. The memory of the pain I felt made our farewell sweeter somehow. I was awake and connected for our goodbye.
Dust in my nose…
Now back to the closet where a woman sits huddled amidst fallen clothes.
I can still feel the dust in my nose.
I had always delighted in choosing my clothing to match my mood. Bright colors, patterns, various styles and cuts, I loved them all. For an abundance of reasons, going braless wasn’t a fitting option.
A promise was made that day on the floor. I vowed that if I lived through surgery and chemo, and kicked cancers ass, I would buy myself the most gorgeous open back dress ever made and wear it with joy.
And so I did.
It was a canvas of resilience, a sonnet of joy sung in fabric and flesh.
And in it, I stood tall, a warrior woman draped in victory, a testament to my unyielding spirit. A spirit that bloomed despite adversity.
I’m not rising from the ashes; I am the ashes because I am part of all that is and so are you.
Here’s to the resilience in us all. To the power of prayer and hope, self-care and self-advocacy!
If you are going through a difficult time, have been diagnosed with cancer or are enduring any other life-altering circumstance, know that you are not alone.
You are surrounded by other survivors…we are all survivors of something. You are surrounded in love.
Help yourself move through the dark cavities of life by granting yourself grace and offering your anger a safe place to be heard.
Any wisdom gleaned is your own to claim and does not belong to misfortune.
May you always choose wisdom over fear, so that you may stand in the light and feel its divine power.
Remember, you are light reflecting light. You are a Divine being, being.
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Jodi Livon 