Tuesday, April 22, 2008

The Funniest Damn Thing

This is a real Craigslist ad that some saw and sent to me. It hits home for me and I think it's hilarious. I didn't write it, but I sure could of.

Peace Out

A public service announcement: Please stop asking me if I'm pregnant.

Date: 2008-03-30, 10:13AM PDT

I'm not.

I know that I seem to be more of child bearing age than cancer producing age, and I know that my newly flat chest due to a recent double mastectomy makes my belly protrude and makes me look preggers.

I'm not.

I know also that, despite eating healthfully and exercising a ton, the roids and the hormone therapy I've had the pleasure to experience are to thank for the nice round tummy growing before my eyes. Hell, even I tend to think I look pregnant.

But I'm not.

Yes, I realize too that I tend to wear a lot of empire waist and babydoll dresses these days, further adding to the "pregnant look". but frankly, since most of my pants hide in fear when I approach them in the closet, these dresses are a much better option.

I'm flattered that maybe you think I'm "glowing". I guess 25 rounds of radiation will do that.

But please, PLEASE, unless you see my water breaking, don't ask me "Is it a boy or a girl?". Um, it's tamoxifen, thanks for asking.

I don't want to have to blurt out the truth any more than you want to hear it. But frankly, I'm tired of trying to make you feel better about your dumb mistake. Now, I just answer, "NOPE. It's cancer. Bellies look bigger when you've had your breasts removed." Sorry. I know you're probably driving home feeling stupid. Good.

And of course, the irony that you'll never know, is that I probably won't EVER be pregnant, thanks to all this lovely crap.

Don't you know that you never, unless you're absolutely sure, ask a woman if she's pregnant? You just don't. Ok, maybe if she's got her legs up in the air, is panting like a race horse, and someone with a surgical mask is yelling "PUSH" at her. But even then, you should really be sure before you ask.

And for god's sake, please, please PLEASE don't pat my belly. It's just fat and it's really embarassing when you do that.

So unless you literally see a baby's head poking out of my vagina, please stop asking me if I'm pregnant.

I kicked cancer's ass. I can certainly kick yours.


PS - To be fair, I should mention that I am somewhat flattered that people think I might actually be having sex.

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