Wednesday's Words on a Friday



On Wednesdays, Elephant’s Child has been putting up a selection of six (or twelve) words which is called “Words for Wednesday”.

She had taken over this meme from Delores, who is gradually retiring from the blogging world.

In July, the meme continued here, at Drifting Through Life, August saw Jacqueline at Randomosity take a turn.
This month, Susan F at the most--of every moment is giving us the choice of words to play with.

Essentially the aim is to encourage us to write.   

Each week we are given a choice of prompts: which can be words, phrases, music or an image.   What we do with those prompts is up to us:  a short story, prose, a song, a poem, or treating them with ignore...

Some of us put our creation in comments on the post, and others post on their own blog.  I would really like it if as many people as possible joined into this fun meme.  If you are posting on your own blog - let us know, via link at the host's site,so that I, and other participants, can come along and applaud.
I’m hopeless at poetry so I always do a story.

It’s a fun challenge…why not join in?

This week's words are:
1. reason
2. fringed
3. diary
4. love
5. picture
6. assimilate

and/or
1. school
2. template
3. view
4. family
5. facilities
6. disclosure

Here is my story:

 She woke up knowing already what day it was, but checked her diary just to be doubly sure. There it was in big red letters, 9:30am. She had no real reason to feel a tiny spark of fear, but it was there just the same. 

She thought of all the years they'd been together, They'd first appeared when she was eleven, a bit of quick mental math gave her the answer, 52 years. In every school picture since sixth grade, there they were. Annoying and often in the way, but never giving any real trouble.  She hadn't wanted them, but had managed to assimilate them into her life without much thought, just one more thing to deal with really. 


Her favourite fringed Red Indian shirt no longer fit, it had been designed for a younger child, now she had to wear clothes designed to accommodate breasts. She was too old now to play at Cowboys and Indians anyway. 

There had been no pride in being among the first in her class to have them, no love for the obvious outward indication that she was now, in Mother Nature's eyes at least, a woman. 
For heaven's sake, who wanted that so early in life? 
It was  genetics of course, the family template if you will, no getting away from that. 
Her mother and grandmother before her had travelled the same early path. 

Over the years those breasts had filled out bras, t-shirts, bikinis, then later had filled her babies with nourishing mother's milk. And following medical recommendations, they had been poked, prodded and squished (painfully) every two years at the mammogram clinic to check for indications of anything going wrong. 

Nothing ever had. 
Until now. 
The last mammogram, at the city clinic just last month, had shown something. 
Something unknown. 

A phone call, then a letter and a new appointment was made for a repeat screening. Another squashing of the boobs, perhaps an x-ray, possibly an ultrasound view. The letter stated she may be there for up to three hours. With the letter, a form to fill out. A permission form to be signed. If a biopsy was necessary, did she give permission? Of course. Do whatever is necessary. 

Yesterday, she had walked to the Radiology building, it was just in the next suburb, to see how long it would take to get there. She didn't want to be late. The building looked new and modern, although it had been there for quite some time now. She knew the facilities would be clean and comfortable, but still she didn't want to have to be going there. She glanced at her watch, almost time to be off. 

In full disclosure, she had emailed her daughters to let them know. For their sakes, she hoped nothing would be found.

Comments

  1. Such a powerful piece. Fingers and toes crossed for you. Tightly.

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  2. I was expecting an unexpected reunion, but this? This hit every woman's fear.
    Hoping and praying.

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  3. I had a mastectomy a couple of years age--I'm still alive & kicking!! This is how I feel about it:

    GOODBYE, LEFT BREAST
    (ODE TO A MASTECTOMY)
    I just thought I’d like to say goodbye
    As you go to that medical waste disposal in the sky.
    Say hi to my tonsils and have no fears.
    We’ll all get back together in a few years.

    You’ve known me the seventy-nine years of my life.
    You saw me as a teen, and then a wife.
    Your first job was attracting men
    And next you were a breastaurant for my children.
    When the doors of the milkbar finally closed
    You went back to a purely decorative mode.
    Which was fine, until last week
    When you (and other parts) became antique.
    I no longer attract young men of twenty,
    But that’s all right, because I’ve had plenty.
    And as for that other use, well, we all know
    The odds of me nursing again are low.
    But it’s in my nature to be a little sappy,
    And with or without you I’ll keep on being happy.
    Most would count this a loss when it comes to my score.
    Will I miss you? A little. Do I need you? No more!
    I will be losing some symmetry,
    On this I think we can both agree.
    I may tilt to one side as I walk through town
    But I’ll try to adjust and not fall down.

    Yet I’m not through having fun
    And lifting my face to the warmth of the sun.
    And being with friends and laughing (I’ll show you)
    So ta ta, left tata, it was nice to know you!

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    Replies
    1. My positive thoughts are with you, River...I've directed them your way. May you receive only good news. We're all here standing beside and behind you...actually our best wishes are surrounding you.

      Fishducky echoes the words and thoughts of many.

      And good on her for her attitude...I'm sure it matches your own. :)

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  5. Sending you big, huge cyberhugs and healthy thoughts River. We're all with you; in heart, if not in body.

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  6. Here's my attempt with this week's words -

    "It was not for her to question the REASON why.

    Long ago, she’d given up trying to ASSIMILATE with the attitudes and into the lifestyles of those around her. In her VIEW, whether rightly or wrongly, their SCHOOL of thought was far removed from her own.

    Unfortunately or, perhaps fortunately, there was no TEMPLATE for one’s character or life; if there were she was certain her own had been tossed away soon after her entry into the world.

    Having lost her parents at a very young age, and left with no other FAMILY to care for her, she’d been through many different FACILITIES, allowing her little time to forge lasting friendships.

    She trusted few.

    The only DISCLOSURE of her inner feelings and thoughts were entered into her thick, dog-eared DIARY. She couldn’t PICTURE an existence without her beloved journal, the edges of which were FRINGED in tarnished gold-leaf. It travelled with her everywhere. When in a crowded room surrounded by unfamiliar faces of people wishing to question and pry she felt alone and confused, always eager to return to her own calm, peaceful environment. Her LOVE of Nature and animals was all she needed to make her happy.

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  7. Elephant's Child; I'm okay. The unknown was just a couple of tiny fatty cysts. I was so relieved I practically floated home. When I got here, I changed my clothes, had coffee, cuddled Angel, then the tears started. The de-stressing tears of relief. I can't stop them, I'm still crying.

    Susan Kane; it's a fear different to any other isn't it? And the relief at knowing I'm okay is so much greater than the fear was.

    fishducky; I remember reading this when you first posted it and loving your sense of humour and survival.
    I was fully prepared to say goodbye to mine if I had to, but there's no need, I'm okay. and very very thankful to whoever or whatever is looking out for me.

    Lee; thank you for the good wishes, they've done their job, I'm okay. The news was all good and Angel allowed me to cuddle him as I cried my relief.
    I like your story, down below, it's quite sad, I hope it isn't YOUR story.

    Jacquelineand...thanks for the hugs and thoughts, they're very welcome. And I'm happy to report that I'm okay, nothing to worry about.

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  8. No...it's not my story, River. I just made it up on the run. And I was on the "run", too...I was about to head out the door.

    I like your story, too...your real story. I'm so glad everything is okay. And can understand you crying in relief...I would've done the same. Good for you...now relax and have a great weekend. Hugs to both you an Angel. :)

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  9. Lee; I'm glad that's not your story, I don't like to think of "my" people being that sad. Or any people really.

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  10. ... hello River.... I'm so happy to hear that your scare is over and that you are OK.. xxxxx
    Hugs .. Barb xxx

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  11. Words well put together...you were writing about yourself....I see where you are ok. That's a blessing :)

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  12. Barbara Neubeck; I was very relieved myself.

    whiteangel; thank you.

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  13. I thought this was just another one of your terrific creative pieces you'd written to use this week's words. Nothing personal. Then I started reading the comments.

    I am sooooo glad you're okay. I went through the same thing some years back, so know all about the thoughts that go through your head while waiting for the tests and results. Thank goodness you're okay! Time to celebrate!

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  14. I had a similar experience which also turned out OK so I thought your 'fiction' was very well written, until I realised it was REAL! Glad you're OK!

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  15. River - I am sorry it has taken me a few days to get here to read this. But I'm sort of glad that it did, as I had the immediate reassurance in the comments that you are okay.
    I never imagined the words I selected to be used so powerfully. Hopefully this piece will remind many women that while none of us enjoy a mammogram, they are necessary .... and give hope to those called back for more testing.
    I'm so glad that you are okay!
    Beautiful writing by Fishducky and Lee as well!

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