My precancer booty, a tragic lose.
All of the cancer books and medical staff tell you what to expect when you lose your hair, or lose your appetite, etc., but they don't tell you about everything you lose.
Unfortunately, when you are hospitalized you loose muscle not fat. Before cancer I was in pretty good shape. I weighed
135 and at 5'7” I was your standard size 6, and happy with that. Not to mention I had a great butt. I was very proud of that butt. I had been doing lunges and leg presses all over Denver to maintain my derriere. Sadly, cancer wreaked havoc on my bountiful
booty. I'm not kidding in my undies my butt looked like two bread rolls in a napkin.
Since I was hospitalized and treated right away I lost 15 lbs is about two weeks. About 35lbs in total. By the time I had to
go back to the hospital for my second treatment none of my pants fit. Even with a belt I looked utterly ridiculous. I called my sister, Julie, who has always been thinner than me (bitch) to bring me some pants. She ended up taking me shopping to buy my first
round of cancer pants.
Since I had no idea what size I was after the weight loss I found a sales girl to help me. I asked her specifically to help me find a pair of jeans that would make my butt look bigger.
She looked at me like I had two heads. Apparently, they don't get that request very often.
Julie decided to try on some jeans also, so we would try on our jeans and meet up at the 3-way mirror to assess the overall
cuteness of said item. After my first pair of jeans were on I shuffled out toward the dreaded mirror. She saw me coming. “What's wrong?”
“I have no butt.” I turned to show her, and even
in new jeans my back seemed to run directly into my knees with nothing in the middle.
“It's not that bad.” (She really is a good sister, because it was that bad.) “Can't you flex it at all?”
She asked. I squeezed my cheeks together and attempted to lift my non-existent butt into at least a small butt. I think it lifted a quarter of an inch. It was pathetic. Julie and I busted up laughing as I kept trying to flex my behind. People were poking their
heads out of their stalls to see what our hysterics were all about.
As soon as I was well enough to go back to the gym I started lunging and squatting my booty back to health. Even now, I would rather take the
stairs than an elevator so that I might have an extra opportunity to work on my backside.