I feel the name of my blog needs some explanation. When trying to come up with a catchy title for my blog, I was stumped. Let’s face it when describing the breasts the options are endless: tatas, the girls, bazoombas, headlights, options galore. There’s actually a website called listaholic which lists 138 slang words for Breasts. As I perused the list, nothing was grabbing at me. “Saving the Tatas” – “Saving the girls” – “Saving Second Base” had all been done. I wanted something original, something you wouldn’t easily forget.
I really don’t know why it took me so long to come up with the blog title Saving Teets – One woman’s journey with the Big “C” - you see my maiden name is TEETS. Yes, you read it correctly – TEETS. I was destined to have a sense of humor – I mean really how can you not with a last name like that? If you don’t have a sense of humor you’ll never survive. Try going to four different schools in four years with the last name of “Teets” (middle school till freshman year in high school – yep those lovely tween years). To add to my teenage angst, my best friend’s name growing up was Chris Szluk so we were Szluk and Teets. Don’t tell me God doesn’t have a sense of humor!
Having that last name, you tend to be a target for quips. I do appreciate it when someone comes up with something original or better yet if I could come up with something witty to defuse the situation. I was working for EDS in the late 80’s and was on the phone with a new customer. Since it was my first phone call with this customer I knew I would need to supply my contact information. I still would have a little bit of trepidation when giving out my name, always wondering how the reaction was going to be. As the conversation draws to an end, we begin to exchange our contact information. I tell my customer my last name and there is silence followed by: Could you spell that please?” I spell it and hear him quietly say more to himself than me - “You did say that”. I’m holding back the laughter and I can tell he is also. Poor man is trying to maintain some professional decorum. I seize the opportunity and follow up with – “Yes, John, my last name is Teets, I work on Big Beaver Road and it’s off exit 69.” Decorum out the window, all I can hear at this point is hysterical laughing. You can’t make this stuff up – real life is irony isn’t it? Why not just laugh along with it?
I wonder if having this last name somehow predestined me on this cancer journey. Who knows? My family is Irish and I don’t think anyone ever had the nerve to ask where the name came from. My Father at one point was thinking about looking up our family crest. Can you imagine what that would have looked like?! Having that last name has certainly made my life interesting. I even broached to my husband that maybe we should combine our names when we married to “Teetacchini” or “CornaTeets”. Honestly, the man really needs to get a sense of humor.