Friday, August 8, 2008

Pussycat

I get to keep my new hair.

This is just one of the trivial and not-so-trivial thoughts running through my mind.

Things look good.  The ultrasound images didn't look like cancer.  The mammogram was inconclusive, as the lump was too far up my chest for them to get a good picture of it.  They squooshed and smooshed me as much as they could into the machine, but alas, it wasn't happening.  I see the oncologist again in a couple weeks, so I suppose she'll decide then whether or not to biopsy the lumps, just to be 100% certain it's just tissue.

I see the plastic surgeon next week to talk about nips.  I'm super psyched for this.  I miss having nipples.  I like nipples.  They command attention and for whatever reason are provocative.  They're like little jewels.  And they're coming from my inner thigh.  I like the idea of that as well.  My pokies will actually be thigh tissue.

I feel like I'm entering a new phase of my life.  Watch out:  Diva Brandy is loose and on the prowl.  I got cute new hair, I'm gonna have some hot little titties, and I've got attitude to spare.  ROWR!

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