Confessions of a Professional Mom

Confessions of a Professional Mom

Professional mom seeking clarity, balance and a well deserved glass of wine.

You can scroll the shelf using and keys

The Tumor That Nearly Killed Me

June 10, 2013 , , , , , ,

The Tumor That Nearly Killed MeOnce a month, for the past fourteen years, my creative partner is afflicted with sore boobs, energy-drain and tape worm. It never occurs to her that she’s about to be paid another visit by that relative we all love to hate, Aunt Flo. Awareness? No! Every single time she is just sure that a grapefruit-sized tumor has taken up residence inside one of her internal organs and we should talk about a contingency plan for the studio.

Why do we scare ourselves? I do it too. I recently had a follow-up PAP and as soon as I heard the doctors message coming through on my machine, asking me to call them for some test results, I felt weak in the knees. You and I both know, if the results are negative there is no call. They send you the little postcard that says “all is well, now go celebrate with an espresso martini.” Sure enough, results came back abnormal. I reluctantly made my appointment and scheduled a colposcopy — or as I like to call it, a “Pinch-the-shit-out-of-your-Uterus” procedure. Here’s a little panty liner. Thank you very much for stopping by.

Yikes! Of course, I go straight into fear mode. Crap! What if it’s cancer?! What if I’m going to die?! I’m not finished annoying my kids yet. Who will set a bad example for them? Who will scream at them too much? Who will tell them their room is a pig sty?(ok, their dad will take care of that) Who will laugh and cry with them like I do? Who will help them with their art projects? Who will beat themselves up when my children behave inappropriately in public? Who will overindulge them at Target or Old Navy when they find that super cute thing that they just can’t live without? Who will succumb to their huge blue eyes and precious hugs?

Not some sexy young bitch my husband will marry to replace me—I can tell you that! No, huh uh! It should be me. I made them. I wanna be there to provide all the embarrassment and all the love and all the guilt. It’s the trade off for all those 100 stitches, clogged milk ducts and sleepless nights.

I’m also not done creating yet. My creative partner (we’ll call her Lori) and I are just scratching the surface in terms of growing the studio and transforming clients into the legacy brands they were meant to be. I am not done leading and empowering other professional moms. There’s a book to be written, retreats to lead and lives to inspire. There is simply no time for a tumor.


(phone rings)


….”Everything’s fine?”

…”Wasn’t really a big deal? You’re just being cautious?” (fuck off)

….”Whew! Yeah, I wasn’t worried either.” :-0

…”Ok, thank you, Dr.’s assistant person. Bye now. Hopefully, I don’t see you again any time soon.” (I mean that lovingly)

…(huge sigh of relief and small victory dance—quiet man in next office taken aback)


CRISIS AVERTED! What was all the fuss about? Tumor, schmumer!

Sure makes me appreciate all the little things even more. I think we tend to appreciate more when we’re in a state of scarcity versus abundance—the thought that it could all be taken away in an instant. (see future blog posts)

Stay sane, my friends. Don’t worry. Be happy.
(victory dance here)

NOTE TO SELF: Order Lori a T-shirt that says “Tumor On Board”



What do you think?

Please keep your comments polite and on-topic.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: