Countdown To Uniboob

The author, having polished off a couple of tacos al pastor, contemplates her uniboobal future at Curra's, Sunday afternoon

The Day Of The Long Scalpels has arrived. On Monday morning I'm having my goddam mastectomy. Can you believe this shit, no BBQ or martinis after midnight tonight, and they want me at the hospital at six in the fucking morning. I call that patient abuse.

I'll be out of commish for a couple of days, but never fear; I will waste no time in posting some gory photos for you. As always, thanks, all yall, for your kind patriarchy-blaming support.

Comments

[flea]

Good luck, Twisty. I'll be thinking about you, and counting the days til you come back.

[anne]

The newest bar in town makes -- along with all those gross appletini things -- a damn fine dry rub margarita. We're hoisting them for you tonight, and sending along thoughts of good sleep, a gentle alarm clock, and the politest possible days ahead. (Have you got your earplugs for sleeping through the hospital noise?)

[JT]

Twisty, we don't know each other but I read a bit about you and just wanted to send my regards and warmest wishes for this to go as smoothly as possible.

[Lynsey]

Good luck with everything :) Hope you get good and drunk at the first opportunity :D

[Pinko Punko]

Al Pastor is the way to go. We hope that are words here can be supportive to you- I hope this takes care of it and patriarchy continues to be thrown by you, whether we get to read about it or not. Even the Capt. wants to tell patriarchy to "eat it, COBAG!@!!" and he basically IS the patriarchy, so powerful is your patriarchy blaming kung fu.

[bitchphd]

Six a.m.???????????? Jesus christ, that's fucking inhuman.

Sleep as much as you can there. Make 'em give you morphine.

Good luck, Twisty.

[Liz]

Something tells me it's not the alarm clock that's worrying us the most, we're just venting our spleen on it.

You won't be alone in a sleepless night, we'll all be awake with you. Especially me in Australia, as it's daytime here.

There needs to be a ceremony performed for the loss of boobs. It's so awful.

[Brad DeLong]

Good luck. We'll start drinking in your stead immediately...

[Tapetum]

Surgeons are inhuman - they all live for getting the rest of us up at ungodly hours of the morning. And they know we will because they have us by the short hairs - literally in my FIL's case - he's having a prostatectomy at 5am Thurs.

We know you Twisty - you can blame the patriachy better than anyone, even with one boob held behind your back (in a jar).

[Steph]

Good luck Twisty and I hope it all goes the way it's supposed to and they get it all.

[Susan / holdingpattern]

Good luck Twisty. I hope all goes well. Clearly, boobs are an instrument of the patriarchy.

[Bella]

I hope everything goes as well as possible on Monday.

Clearly, the patriarchy is at fault.

[carrie]

Rock on with your boobless self!

We all vow to blame the patriarchy ceaselessly throughout the procedure.

[piny]

All my good wishes.

And I'll offer up a special prayer that they don't give you any of that interchangeable apple juice/chicken broth. A patriarchy-blaming gourmand can only suffer so much indignity, after all.

[Ashley]

One of the back-alley knitters popping in to wish you well tomorrow. Glad you got your tacos in tonight--if there is anything I would resent more than being forced to show up somewhere at 6 am to have my boob cut off, it would be being forbidden to eat breakfast tacos on my way there.

[AndiF]

Good luck, best wishes, and fuck 'em if they can't take a joke.

[SF Knitter]

i'll have a super carnitas burrito for you tomorrow (with a side of al pastor)

[yami]

Y'know, I was at the supermarket yesterday and the checkout kid offered me a caramel apple "for breast cancer". Sucker that I am, I bought it (thinking of you), and it SUCKED: the caramel had a funny artificial tang and was partly crystallized, the apple was mealy and flavorless.

Which just proves that breast cancer is an awful thing, because why else would it (and its minions at Safeway) want me to pay $2 for such a shoddy product? Or, um, something.

[norbizness]

Can't front on Curra's, one the main reason's I don't mind living off of E. Oltorf (on the wrong side of the freeway, naturally). I've even got the ordering haiku down:

Hungry ranchero
Scrambled, refried pinto, flour
Chicken tamales

Holy shit, it works if you say flour as a one-syllable word. Best of luck.

[norbizness]

P.S. Double-fuck Safeway and their breast cancer-causing apples!

[nina]

Many good thoughts for you, Twisty. We will hold down the patriarchy kicking-taco eating-tequila quaffing fort for you.

[MsKate]

Q: What do you call a two-boob person?

A: A woman.

Q: What do you call a one-boob person?

A: A woman.

When you go in at 6am, you will be Twisty. When you wake up, you will be Twisty.

You have enough Womyn Gumption to fill up as many pairs of cowboy boots, bathtubs, or bras as you could possibly want. Blessings of whatever or whomever you choose be on ya grrl!

[mimbreno]

Good luck, Twisty. Six a.m. sucks, but on the plus side you get to walk around with your ass hanging out of one of those cool gowns. Just in case you start to question your part in the patriarchy.

[Marshall]

Best of luck, Twisty.

[Jim McCulloch]

Everyone who got here earlier has already said good luck, but you deserve to have it said again--good luck and best wishes.