Christmas 2009

Lester & Me

I have this lump.
It's big - big big for a lump. Maybe 2 inches, a little less.
It moves, shifts if you will, - anchored in place by connective tissue but like a ball under a sheet you can press around it to rotate it.

I also have the TINIEST boobs on the planet.

So it's like "Here's NearlyA boob one, here's NearlyA boob two, and here's Lester. The lump."

I saw a doctor a couple of years ago.
"Oh what a lovely lipoma! It's just beautiful."
me: "LYMPHOMA??"
Him: "Lipoma. Fat. It's a big lump of fat."

My husband can see it from outside of my clothes.
Him: "Your shirt's wrinkled"
Me: "That's Lester"
Him: "You should get that checked"

So it's now really five years or so since I had Lester checked. He's not growing, not painful. He just...sits there. When I work out he looks bigger, when I don't, he retreats into the company of other fat cells.

Back then I asked my doctor.
Me: "Can I have it removed?"
Dr: "You could but why would you undergo a procedure when you can just leave it alone. If you treat it, you'll have a scar. So scar, or lump?"
Me: "So what can I do?"
Dr: "Well you could gain weight." chortle chortle "Then you won't notice it."

That doctor. He's a barrel of fun.

This morning I put on a pastel pink lycra tank top.
For BootCamp.

And saw my third boob.
Prominently.
One.
Two.
Three.

And I think Lester days are numbered.