When I was a teenager and construction crews whistled as I walked by I felt grown up.  When I got a little older, I thought it was vulgar and disgusting.  But today when a trucker guy gave a whistle I felt like Miss America.  Apparently bald chicks are sexy to some guys.  Who knew?? Maybe they weren’t whistling at me? Whatever.  Those were the best 15 minutes of my day.

Last week when I went to see my doctor I thought the ‘filling up’ of my breasts were working – on one side at least.  I was a little lopsided but I actually got kind of excited- one side was actually looking normal.  What I thought was saline was actually ‘fluid buildup’ Ewwww.
Gross for sure, but not the worst thing that could happen, until yesterday when it shot out like a geyser all over my new shirt.  Being the eternal optimist I thought “Oh good- at least the fluid released and both sides look the same!” Not so much.  My chest muscle separated and there’s a little piece of it floating around causing all the trouble. I go in for yet another surgery tomorrow to remove the little booger. As if that weren’t  enough my car also felt like ‘bursting’.  At least it waited until I got home to explode.  Green radiator fluid all over the place.  I had to laugh at the similarity or else I was going to cry. 

 The crisis is over and now I have some time to reflect.  I usually get to my ‘grateful’ stage – realizing all of this could be much worse and ending with ‘This too shall pass” but I thought it  had already ‘passed’.  I feel like that person in the movies when they look up into the sky and yell with the camera zooming in on their mouth like a black hole. Maybe I should reread my last entry about everything being ' exactly the way it should be  right now' or maybe I should just go to bed.