The man across the street still has his Christmas lights adorning his house.
I think to myself, “Dude, what are you hoping for? Didn’t you have enough Christmas in December? Even Epiphany was January 6. You’re stretching it here. Your Jewish neighbor across the way would love it if those lovely lights did not shine in her window all night long. Not that it is a religious thing, really. Just a ‘I need some sleep’ thing.”
But then I think to myself, “What if he wants to keep Christmas all year long? What if his wife is dying of breast cancer, and her only wish is to have Christmas last all year? Who the Hell am I to deny a dying woman her final wish?” Then I remember, there is a gay couple in that house, no dying wife, and probably, they just need to find the time to get to those lights. That feeling, though, of December, is kind of like how I feel about Breast Cancer right now. December is full of hope and disappointment. You get so excited about the holidays coming up–they are always so much fun! Of course, there is always that relative or friend or co-worker who has to make the holidays all about him/her. Then you got Breast Cancer. Suddenly YOU were the one everyone talked about ALL. HOLIDAY. LONG. Breast Cancer was cool again, because YOU got through it.
Then comes the disappointment. ‘Shit–you had your tits cut off! What the Hell?’ I know many of my friends have wanted to ask me that. I never doubt my decision, but wish I hadn’t HAD to have had my tits cut off. Believe me, I LOVED my hooters! LOVED! The way some men love chocolate creme pie. LOVED! But I never loved them more than I did my health. I have a rule with my friends. We can hang until you try to hurt me or kill me. One mis-step in that department and I will cut you out of my life. Why should I be any less stringent with my sweater toys? However, like the song says, ‘ain’t nothin’ like the real thing, Baby!’ My reconstructed melons are uncomfortable and not what I expected. I’m not going to say bad, because they aren’t bad, but not what I was sold. Let’s put it that way.
So, this is how I’m feeling about Breast Cancer now that I’ve been on the other side for a minute. Hopefully disappointing. I don’t want my keys to the timeshare back just yet. The guy across the street, however, should get those Christmas lights down before they become Valentine’s Day lights.