Top Row, Right

June 7, 2008. 

Through the front door of Dr. Jackson’s office, to the check-in window, through the door with the sign “for patients only” , turn to the right, first door on the right…

Top Row, first cubby on the right

“lesa” printed out on a small index card, waiting.

Normally, I would enjoy seeing my name in print…I like the unique spelling, a portion of my Daddy “ Chester Lee” invested in my name.

But, on this day, it was a shock to my soul.

L e s a

My person, my self, my being had cancer.  And, not just any cancer, but breast cancer.  Unbelievable.

Until now.  They would not put my name on the cubby if I didn’t need to have a cubby.  I wouldn’t need a cubby if I didn’t need the treatment.  I wouldn’t need the treatment if I didn’t have cancer.

In my breast. 

I love my breasts.  They came to me at an early age when my girlish figure was that of twelve but my breast knew themselves to be twenty-one.  I confess it was not love at first budding.  It was more like womanhood possessing me and taking over my body.

But, as age walked me down my life’s path, I grew to love, appreciate and even enjoy my breasts.

No one ever had to guess that I was a girl.  Rather, they more often than not had the surprise of knowing that I was a “young” girl.  Confusing to many, especially boys, because my breasts were determined to always be about eight years older than my birth age.

As time would have it, I eventually grew into my breasts and my age caught up with their maturity.

I enjoy the femininity which comes from being a full figured woman.  Dressing in lovely, low cut blouses with just enough cleavage peeking through makes me smile.

I enjoyed the intimacy of mother and child when I nursed my babies and remember being grateful that my children and I were able to enjoy early morning and late night feedings.    I came to know the hearts of my little babies while nursing them.  Precious to my heart are those little milk mouths sucking and glancing up at me with milk-mouth smiles.

I love the God blessed intimacy my husband and I share in loving one another by loving each other’s bodies.  There is a sacred bond which comes through our relationship and tenderness of touch, especially of my breasts.

So, when I saw my name listed, top row right, and knew there was a very real possibility I might lose my two sweet friends, it was devastating.

I was afraid.

No, I was more than afraid, I was broken hearted.

I love and want to keep my breasts.

So, I soldiered-up…and took many right turns…right into the doctor’s office, right to the check in where LeeAnn greeted me with a warrior’s welcome, right through the door marked “for patients only”, right to the first door with the cold knob.

And, then I did what all of we breast cancer warriors do…walked up to that tag labeling me a battler, removed my bra and shirt, warmed my breasts with my hands and laid down the gown to cover them up.

I walked out that door, down the hall and began the journey which would give me back many things I had not known I had lost.

My courage

My heart

My soul’s desires

My prayer life

My tender family moments

My growth in faith

And, just as important, my realization that I was more than just my breasts.  My breasts were simply reminders of my feminine core, beautiful symbols and worth fighting for.

But, that whether they stayed with me as a part of my body or whether they left me and took a piece of my heart along with them, I would survive.

I am grateful for “top row, right” for that simple little cubby symbolizes many right things in my life.  Lessons learned only because I fought the good fight, battling in pink and learning to love every precious day I have.