Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Take it Like a Woman

MEN: If you read today's post, which is directed at my lady friends, it is incumbent on you to follow-up with all the women in your life. That includes the one you are married to/are currently dating, the one who gave you birth, and any that grew up in your parent's house.

If you choose not to read today's post, you are off the hook.

Your choice. But no backing out if you proceed past the plus signs.....
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Today I'm posting a challenge. I expect, no, I DEMAND, you accept it. Truly, it's for your own good*.

Ladies: it's time to have your breast tissue reduced to the size of a small pancake and have someone carry on conversation while you are in stir-ups, staring at the ceiling.
I don't want to hear excuses; I want you to make appointments. Now.

Here's what you'll get in exchange: a promise from me that, if you are too squeamish to go on your own, I'll go with you. I'll even treat you to a margarita before the appointment and be your DD** back home and pick your kids up from school if you are one of those unlucky gals who practically hyperventilates when the nurse asks for a urine sample.

More importantly than that, you'll KNOW whether the body God gave you is healthy OR that you have some work to do. But, either way, you won't be ignorant. And the next time you hear "So-and-so has cancer/pre-diabetes/hookworm", you'll be able to let out a sigh of relief or get that chick's phone number and give her a ring to let her know "You are not alone."

If I haven't yet convinced you, consider this: I carry the BRAC1 gene. It predisposes me to breast and ovarian cancer at rates higher than the normal population.

My biological Mom died of breast cancer. My adoptive Mom died of ovarian cancer.

So, when I'm holding my breath for the pinching-machine-of-death to take that picture of my breast tissue, I thank God for the technology that might, someday, help me to know that I need to fight for my life so I can be here for Mike, Nickels, Hoo, and The Babe.

When I'm staring at the ceiling of my doctor's office, being poked and prodded in ways that would make some married couples blush, I am thankful that tests exist that tell me I don't have cancerous cells or elevated levels or organs that don't look or feel right.

Is this stuff fun? Hell, no.
Is it necessary? You betcha.

And, I love you enough to be the one in your life encouraging you to make that appointment today.

If you are 40, you need a baseline mammogram and an exam AND an appointment for next year's joyous event. You should already be having an annual pap smear and palpation of your ovaries***. It would also be good to know your blood pressure numbers, cholesterol level, and pass a urine test****.

So dust off your provider guide, pick up the phone, and make those calls today. I don't care if you ever tell me you went, just go, for yourself and your family.

Because I care that you are in my life today, tomorrow and a long, long time from now.



*If you have images of your parents using this phraseology and it makes the hair on your arms stand up, just consider that it either has or will issue out of your mouth at your children or a co-worker/subordinate at some point in your life. It's inevitable. Just suck it up and move on.

**Designated Driver.

***If there is ANY DOUBT that your ovaries feel "different" (enlarged, shaped funny, etc.) then DEMAND to have further testing done. Ovarian cancer is not to be trifled with; it is deadly.

****I'm not a Doctor. I just play one on this blog.

3 comments:

  1. Thank you for the loving reminder. I'll admit that I've been bad since the birth of Sugar Bear. I was just so tired of people "up in my bidnez" that I let it go...and go...and go... Making my appointment today.

    ReplyDelete