A Tattoo Here, A Tattoo There, A Tattoo Where?????

Hello Friends, Family and Followers,

Well it has been an interesting day, but before I go any further I need to place a warning/rating on this post. This post is definitely rated PG-13, NFM-0 (Not For Men), and NFTS-15 (Not for the Squeamish) and also probably TMI-100 (Too Much Information). So please gentlemen, you might as well go find a sports game to watch on TV, find a project to complete or whatever manly thing you would like to do, but never seem to be able to do because we ladies keep you very busy. However, since this post has some ‘risqué’ content, you may want to read it over your ‘squeeze’s’ shoulder, pretending you are admiring the exquisite way she arranged the pillows on the sofa, and be ready to comment on it later, the pillow arrangement, not this post!

For the rest of you, which is basically us girls, I don’t blame you if don’t want to read any further if you are heeding my warning for those who are NFTS-15 or higher. I wish I could have blogged about my experience today without actually going through it. If so, Honey I would have grabbed up that opportunity like it was a winning lottery ticket. But since no one has invented the ‘how to make a double of yourself’ (you’d think that would be next on an IT brainy person’s to do list, but what do I know. I just think it would be real cool) except Walt Disney, and that was only in the movies, I had to pull up ‘my big girl panties’ and trust me they are big, and make another stop on this breast cancer journey.

This is also TMI-100 rated as I stated above. However, I must put my foot down, and ask you ladies to put on your big girl panties as well, and read on. As a woman, perhaps a mother, maybe a sister too, and/or a lady with lots of women pals you need to know what all is involved in this breast cancer experience cuz it ain’t just about finding a lump.

So what was the big deal, the interesting experience I had today that rates a PG-13? Hold your breath, wait for it, wait for it………. I had my first tattoo ever! OK, I can hear you now, all of you people out there going, “is that all?” (The men have definitely gone back to the game on TV at this point, but ladies hang in there with me.) I bet you are thinking, ‘I know plenty of people who have had tattoos done’. You might even have one yourself. OK, I am with you on that. And the next second later, I betcha you are thinking, ‘where is the risqué, PG-13 material?’ In the third second some of you are wondering if I had a naked man tattooed across my ‘bahunkess’ (my word for behind, sorry I think it is cute, and sounds much better than, ‘I see your butt!’ Put bahunkess in place of ‘butt’ and you will see what I mean.) and secretly wondering if that might not be a good idea for you too. I mean bathing suit season is right around the corner.

I’m right, aren’t I? I can read minds in case you are wondering how I am able to do that. It is just one of my many talents I wish I had. Well I hear you about all of that, but I have you all guessing wrong. Before I go any further into the details about my special tattoos, let’s take a minute and see if any of you can guess where this is going, OK?

La la la la la la la la la la la ls la la la la la (this is the theme music playing as you work your brain on this one) la la la la la la! Give up?

I had my new boobs tattooed today!!!!!!! (I bet not too many guessed that!) Now that you know ‘the where’ you may be trying to figure out the ‘what’? Well I will tell you. I had nipples and areolas tattooed on my new ta-ta’s. Yep, you heard that right. New nipples and areolas. You see when you have a mastectomy, the breast surgeon may or may not be able to save your nipples and areolas. Yea, you usually lose it all. Sometimes the doctor can save them, but from what I hear, don’t expect it.

Hey, right about the TMI-100? I warned you……..But really this is for your own good. (Gosh remember when your mother said that to you just before she made you drink some awful medicine? Well, she was right, this is really for your own good.)

So there you have it, another exciting adventure stop on the breast cancer ride. Now, you don’t have to have anything done. Your new ta-tas look like breasts, minus the nipples and areolas, which frankly I thought looked weird. I mean as a woman, when you lose a very important part of your sexual anatomy and identity, it just looks weird. I had the choice of having a nipple transplant, where my plastic surgeon would have taken skin from somewhere on my body and fashioned new nipples, another choice, which I have blanked out on at the present time, and then the tattoo choice.

The tattoo choice sounded the best to me, and it isn’t just a ‘tattoo’, it’s a ‘3-D tattoo’. But not to worry, you don’t have to wear special glasses to get the full effect and you don’t have to go to your local IMAX to view them. I was a little nervous about the pain situation. Based on my breast cancer journey so far, the docs conveniently put you ‘out’ for most anything. I thought this would go the same way. Not to be. I am not sure if you realize this ladies, but once you have a mastectomy, you basically lose feeling in your breast(s). That’s why you can’t use heating pads or ice packs near your new ta-tas. (I mean the next minute you might hear a boiling sound coming from your chest, or worse yet, you might end up freezing them. That would make your new ta-tas ‘mounds of ice’.). Even so, it is like with any amputation, you think you are going to feel something anyway that’s not there anymore.

It took about two hours, with some drawing and some mixing of colors, but I look pretty ‘normal’ again. I felt no pain on one ‘ta-ta’, but the other one, I did, which I felt was both good and bad news, if you get what I am saying. Renee was my ‘tattoo artist’. She is a medical tattoo artist, and travels up and down the east coast performing this service for many grateful women. If you are fortunate enough, your medical insurance will pay for it (mine did!). Renee is rated second in the country for what she does. ‘The King’ of 3-D medical tattooing is a gentleman in Maryland. I am glad I had ‘the Queen’ do mine.

I really liked Renee and we had some laughs during my ‘session’. She was very impressed with my implants and she told me once the scars fade, with my new nipples and areolas, men will not be able to tell the difference between the old and the new ones. I thought that was very interesting, especially since she used the plural ‘men’. I guess she is lots more optimistic than I am that ‘men’ will be visiting that part of my body anytime soon.

Now here is the big news. Renee did a really fantastic job, and like any great artist, she wanted to ‘record’ her work. So she took a ‘before’ picture and a ‘after’ picture and wanted to know if I would like to have her email me the pictures. For some reason, I said yes, and there they were, right in my email inbox this afternoon. They are headless shots, so I could very well post those pictures here, but, read my lips, that ain’t going to happen, ever, ever, ever. However my cousin Pam sent me a link several months ago, of a woman’s website. This is a very interesting website, and what this woman did was very interesting (it has to do with tattoos), so I provided the link below. That should give anybody their fill of breasts and tattoos, but not mine! Mine are reserved for the ‘men’ that are expected. Well, may be a man.

I am discerning that many of you are at this very minute wondering how I am going to connect this interesting but very unlikely post to something about our wonderful Lord, Father God and Holy Spirit. You should know better. I have the most interesting epiphanies, where God nudges, or generally has to ‘knock’ me over’ in a manner of speaking, to get me to pay attention.

As I was laying there today, hearing that ‘buzzing’ sound of the tattoo drill I thought about why most people get tattoos these days. It is usually to make a statement, to get noticed or to make a point. Or in the case of women who have had mastectomies to feel normal again. Positive things. In Jesus’ time people ‘wore’ marks. These marks of course weren’t tattoos, these marks were very permanent and not very pretty. These marks were quite awful and they made people stand out alright, but in a very bad way. These were the marks that lepers bore. Missing toes, missing fingers, missing ears, missing noses. Can you imagine? Never being able to go anywhere without people staring and running away from you. Having to shout out “Unclean, Unclean” anywhere you went. How so very awful that must have been. Not only deformed, but isolated, where you could never touch and be touched by anyone, never be with your family and friends ever, ever again, but to see them from a distance.

Sometimes we feel marked in some awful way, don’t we? Our marks aren’t obvious like tattoos, or lepers missing fingers. But our marks are just as bad. We may feel ‘marked’ because of a bad childhood, a broken marriage, a lost job, abuse, someone bullying us when we were younger. The list goes on and on. These experiences make us feel unclean in a way that our modern society has a way of making it seem like that. We become isolated, thinking no one wants to be around us, we may even be rejected by our friends, family, spouse, grown children. Whether these feelings of ‘unclean’ are self-imposed or imposed upon us by society, we often take those feelings of rejection and believe God feels that way about us too.

However our God never, never rejects us. Our sins are forgotten each morning from as far as the East is to the West. We receive His grace and mercy new each morning. He erases our ‘marks’ each and every day. Jesus was sent to heal the lepers and He was also sent to heal us. We must never, ever forget that we are never ‘untouchable’ to the Lord, no matter what scar or mark life has left on us. Like the prodigal son, when he returned, the Father ran to him. The Father looked out to the road everyday, praying His son would return. God is waiting for us. He never stops waiting. And when we make the slightest move towards Him, He runs to gather us up in His arms. The Creator of the universe runs to us. Wow. Because of Jesus’ sacrifice God never, has ever seen our marks other than wounds He can heal, wants desperately to heal for us. And we are never, ever alone, as the Holy Spirit is in us always. Please let’s pray that we never, ever forget the indescribable love God has for us. Let us make it a point to find one person a week we can help know that as well. To know they and we are always loved. What would our world be like if we did that? I love how someone recently closed an email to me the other day:

Love God. Love Others. Be the Change.

Here is that link I promised you.


Love God, Love Others, Be the Change,
The Tattooed Lady

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