In my experience: Dealing with breast cancer.
by Michelle Coltharp-Baxter
As I was cleaning out my grandmother's dresser drawers after she died, I was shocked to find a pumping system for fake breasts. It was at that moment I realized she had suffered from breast cancer. After so many years of her making it a point for us, her grandchildren, to not enter her bedroom when she changed clothes, I never would have imagined in a million years that was the reason behind it. Now, I finally understood—her breasts had been removed and she did not want us to know it.
After being 
diagnosed with endometriosis at the age of 24, I needed to have a mammogram before I could begin the hormonal treatments. On the same day of my breast exam, my gynecologist called to tell me that the mammogram revealed two lumps in my left breast and because they were so large, the only option was to surgically remove the lumps and biopsy for cancer.
The next morning I woke up early and left for the hospital with my parents to meet the surgeon. He practiced finding the spot of my lumps on an orange. actually sew on my breast lumps (with no meds-very painful procedure); he thought this would ensure I would not scar nearly as bad afterwards.
The last memory that I have before the surgery was of my parents taking one of hands and then me beginning to cry from fear of the surgery or results? The next thing I remember was waking up in the recovery room and my father telling me the best four words I have ever heard, “It is not cancer,” he explained, “the doctor said that you fibrocystic breasts.”
I was relieved.
To celebrate, my family, best friend, boyfriend and I went out to dinner. David, my then boyfriend, now husband, was amazed that I was out and about so soon after surgery; I was sore and had difficulties with mobility for the next six months. I needed help to do things that, at one time, were never a problem. When I returned to school a week after surgery, my friends had to help carry my luggage and I switched from a backpack to a small suitcase with wheels to carry my books.
A few months after my surgery, David gave me a pink ribbon he had received at a Dallas Cowboys' football game. They had breast cancer survivors stand on the field and passed out pink ribbons to all of the game attendees. Two scars on my left breast and the pink ribbon always remind me of that time in my life and the brave women who have fought breast cancer and continue to do so.
Nearly ten years later, I came across the website of a breast cancer survivor. She had made videos during her treatments and recovery to send out a message of hope to others through her positivity. We shared our stories with each other via video and e-mail. One day my new found friend called me. After we had spoken for a while and I hung up, I thought about how inspiring it was to speak to a breast cancer survivor, and then it dawned on me; I had been speaking to one my whole life—my grandmother.
The Cowboys' billion dollar playground may not have a cool name like the "Double A-C", but fans are already marking their territory. All fans were amped up about the forthcoming first win at the new stadium, but this anonymous duo took their excitement one step further in a locked stall of the men's room.
Opening weekend had mixed emotions; on one hand, the stadium was a big hit and a record crowd showed up for a prime time brawl against the division favorite New York Giants. On the other hand the Cowboys lost 31-33. A week later it was all smiles for Cowboy fans. Fewer party passes sold, T.O. doesn't catch a ball, Terence Newman finally looked like a pro bowler, the Cowboys move to 2-1 after beating a struggling Panther team, and a couple of love birds have a quick romp on the floor in the spacious restrooms.
If we know anything at 50L, it's that all sex is good sex, but prime-time-Dallas-Cowboy-stadium-bathroom-floor sex is great sex! We don't know who did it or how much they enjoyed it, but we do know that they will have this memory for the rest of their lives and we think that is just freaking Nice.
Chicago needs change, but not the Olympics.
We sent our very best to Copenhagen Denmark--well they sent themselves, really--Oprah and the Obama's, to bring the Olympics back to United States in 2016. At 50Listed.com, we were very impressed. We were just talking about how our shiny new government wasn't focused on the future of the country, so much as they were focused on what they can accomplish in their terms.
Boy were we wrong! President Obama is looking out for the U.S. and his hometown, Chicago, for years to come. Nevermind the riots or the skyrocketing murder rates that are tearing the city apart, they are taking care of the important things. Sure, General McChrystal needs more troops or we will fail in Afghanistan. Yeah, the deadline they set for finishing and passing the healthcare bill is a week away. And yes, the economy is still shrinking.
But listen, this was important for us. As Americans, we dominate the Olympics; we finish top three in almost everything and we certainly make it to the finals in the majority of the events we participate in. We needed our Olympic prowess to be humbled by not even making it past the first round of cuts. We needed it, really.
Our favorite part was the fact that the people of Chicago weren't even that interested. In fact, I wish they kept record of this, this may be the first time ever an applicant city had protests against the Olympics. Our best left against our consent and the people were right, no Olympics in Chicago. Nice.