Obituary of a Boob
How would it feel to wake up one day without breasts?
Daily Wages, Dies
When they started blooming in the early teens, no one could have imagined that they would be the entertainer that would service me (and oh so well!) into my mid years. My breasts were definitely magnificent; the one thing that got all the boys to my yard.
Having spent 20 years in the public eye, I have to say, that men have always feasted on my bounty. Countless of them have walked in through these doors. Day on day. Year on year. 38DD is a thing of pride and glory. What is a woman, if not her curves? God has been generous with how I look.
A few months ago, I found out about the famous ‘C’ word. I had pain in my breasts and I thought maybe somebody bit them too hard. It has happened in the past. I scrambled to a few doctor’s. And everything pointed towards losing my breasts.
I lost them last week. Along with my daily wages.
How will anybody desire me anymore?
My Spirit, Dead at 53
My breasts who had a fairly ordinary life moving from puberty to dating; hook ups to marriage and then sex, were pronounced dead by mastectomy at the hospital a year ago, exact to this day. Being 53 years old, they were an intimate part of me for 40 years.
A year since, it is entirely impossible to calculate the effect of the loss for me and consequently how all my relationships changed. Overnight I became an object of pity among family and friends. And yet the loss was only a personal journey. Looking at myself, showering, changing clothes — the small jobs were consistent reminders that I am now incomplete.
From early on, I’ve always been modest and covered myself appropriately. I was neither petite nor well endowed but a regular woman going on with life. I’ve had a casual glass of wine at my husband’s parties, socially relevant of course. But cancer? And to be told, the womanly-ness in me is going to be taken away. It all happened within a week. I had to beat the cancer and no chemo was required.
The dichotomy of being grateful during your darkest hour.
In many ways, I am slowly starting to acknowledge that I may never fully recover my spirit. There will always be large swings. In my happiest moments, I always advocate how one must not focus on body image. And yet in my lowest, I am transported back to memories of lacy lingerie from my honeymoon to breast feeding both my children.
I am learning to live as two parts, the before and the after.
The Mirrors, Die at 31
Little does anyone know where we are all going to land up when we are 16. And yet, just at that age Anaya was walking down the ramp as the face of the next generation. By 24, she had made a splash in magazines across the world. At 31, she had to end her career. Anaya underwent a double mastectomy to treat her breast cancer and is survived by a new sense of being.
Anaya seeked no external validation as she celebrated self-love — even kick-starting a project of naked self-portraits taken by her in mirrors in various places. Snippets of it can be viewed on her Instagram profile. In an interview she once said, “My body is only my business. It is part commodity and part lover.” Since, she has been propelled to be a feminist icon who promoted self love and vanity as the future of society.
Two months ago, Anaya lost both her breasts. “You appreciate the little things,” she said in an interview after, “like touching yourself and trying to find something new to fill with love.” Gathering her wits after a long pause when asked about celebrating her body she said, “A premature death to the most beautiful part of me.”
Post surgery, Anaya took one last naked self portrait in the mirror across her bed as a closure to her personal project.
All mirrors in the house she resides in have been since removed.
Resting in Peace
The husband’s favourites, the daughter’s first nutritional source and the traditional image of the woman in me departed from this world on August 12, 2012. I was 39 years old.
My daughter, Tara, says that I’m a warrior like none other that she has ever seen. During the raging battle with breast cancer, she was 14. My mother raised her during that year. I vividly recall walking into the oncologist’s office and being told that a double mastectomy was a non negotiable in this case followed by chemotherapy. The cancer was spreading too fast.
I went through the entire surgery in a state of denial.
Six years on and I have had to live with that decision. I did a reconstruction surgery about four years ago but every time I see myself I’m never really sure … The world really doesn’t know how I feel because Tara’s mom is the best and office work has never really stopped because of it.
The house of cards is very meticulously maintained.
Recently, I was inducted into coaching other women battling breast cancer by my oncologist. Tara often says, ‘Ma, this was your calling. You are resting in peace.’
Age Like Wine
I’m a grandmother to 10 little ones, a mother to 7 not-so-little ones, and wife to the only man I’ve loved since I was 16. All of these people, whom I call family were with me on the sad demise of my breasts, aged 76.
I’m grateful to be able to watch my grandchildren grow up and discuss politics and world affairs at the dinner table with their parents. What is well rounded life if not with a little loss? I’ve been there and done it all. This is a new adventure and I’m going to now age like wine, forever graceful.
A breast is something that defines most of us as women.
And to lose it? The loss is so acute it is impossible to comprehend. Breast Cancer is the most common cancer in women worldwide. Death rates from breast cancer have been on the decline since the last decade, primarily due to better screening and early detection, increased awareness, and continually improving treatment options. And with advanced technologies, the odds of having to lose your breasts are minimal.
Start with a self examination (touch yourself) or go meet with your gynaecologist to understand Breast Cancer better.
