Patience and a whole lot of Pee

Flash back Friday! Right after I cut my hair!

 So after a little boost I've decided to make a regular appearance on my blog, keep up better with my instagram (@boobchica) and possibly start vlogging on YouTube. The vlogging will come in a month or two, I will keep you posted. There comes a time when a 31 year old girl realizes that she needs to get the word out about feeling the tits on the regular. Also gynecologists tend to dismiss us youngin's because "Women in their 20s and 30s don't get breast cancer." Whateva Felicia!

So I work (or worked, but will be back there again) in a field that requires a lot of patience, and by a lot I mean a naval fleet load of patience. I have always considered myself to be a pretty patient person, because let's face it, us Caribbean folk are NEVER really in a rush to do anything. Well that's completely changed now that I've gotten and beaten the big C. Patience is nonexistent in my world right now, in fact chemo brain even made me forget how to spell the damn word (is it an e or an a? Gosh I don't give two fucks!). Most likely it's the fatigue that makes me less accommodating or patient, but whatever it is I'm pretty sure that Xanax is the cure. I KID. Not really. So what had happened was......

Mom took me to vote after my physical therapy appointment on Wednesday. I'm having some serious pain as a result of a car accident (OMG did I mention that here, hubby please remind me I don't have the patience to go back and read!). My L something and C something on my spine is jacked, as well as my pelvis and neck....EXACTLY what I didn't need right now. Anyways, MY NECK....MY BACK.... (you know the song). So I post chemo post accident post physical therapy waddle into my local library for early voting (I'm never last minute when it comes to voting). UGH, I hate voting in primary/run offs in my conservative town because they look at you with the fire of 1,000 hells when they ask you if you would like a D ballot or an R ballot, and you respond by saying "D." Please, as if you didn't realize I was a Democrat by looking at my crazy ass! So anyways, she was quite perturbed to find not one, but two democrats (I get it from my mama) in her midst and she nearly lost her shit. Like I'm so serious, she was rude. She asks me if I have ID (ha, of course I do bitch, your law didn't prevent me from exercising my right as a naturalized citizen), and I rip that sucker out, with my hyphenated middle and two last names....muahahahaha, americanos HATE when we do that. So I sign, get my ballot card and got to the machine. REPUBLICAN pops up. Ugh, of course it does. "Ma'am, I don't have the correct ballot could you help me." I thought that sounded nice. I figured my head scarf, growing back side burns, and lack of lashes and brows would HELP her make the decision to be pleasant. Boy was I wrong. NO, YOU HAVE THE RIGHT ONE THERE.  

Cheers to all my haters!

Sigh,

Pet peeve number 8,647, people not looking before they tell me I'm wrong. Before I pull rank and flash my three fancy university degrees in front of her plastic caked up face I respond again PLEASANTLY, "It doesn't seem to be correct, I need a D ballot and well none of the people on here are members of my political party." Shit, why did I use the D, now a crowd of R's are circling around me telling me that I'm wrong and they are right. This is where Boob Chica lacks patience and any sense of decorum, "Really, if it's correct then why is my screen filled with a bunch of douche bag liars? I'm not interested in voting for any of those people, get me another card." It was in that moment that they realized that they fucked with the wrong one.

Instantly given another card, another booth, casted my D vote and grabbed not one but TWO I VOTED stickers! HA!

I should not have lost my shit, and before IDC I would have never done that, but why do people always have to push the girl who has no tits, no brows, no damn lashes, and an inch of sideburns? LIKE REALLY? Would it kill you to be pleasant? YA BITCH! 

So the long of the short is, I have no patience, I have earned the right to have no patience, and all the Xanax in the world will probably not stop me from losing my shit. Am I the only one? Is every breastie out there one ignorant situation away from going postal? Sigh, my new normal keeps things quite interesting! 

Speaking of interesting my water retention situation has been cray, I am still holding onto some which requires me to take Lasix and pee pee pee. Ugh, I feel like I'm going through a Sams Club package of Charmin every month! I almost didn't make it twice last night and I probably got up about 8 times. I need to take my pee pill in the morning so that I can be lighter and hopefully sleep through the night without peeing. What happens when I skip my water pill, (I mean wrack my chemo brain to remember if I took it or not), the cankles come back, and they come back fast and with a vengeance! The joys of finding balance in a post chemo/cancer/crazy/titless/browless world! Or as I like to say less hair and more pee.