Holding Penalty-Fifteen Yards

I had to make a Super Bowl reference on the day of the big game.
First of all, the ditz that I am scheduled a colonoscopy the day after the game.
My Super Bowl menu was then set. Chicken Broth, yucky medicine and water.  For those of you who have been through them, you know I'm watching the game from the toilet.
Definitely not the most fun and glamorous evening I had planned but then again much better than colon cancer.
As with everything, there are bright spots. I had been gaining weight with the hormones and spending too much time writing-so! Why not start the diet the hard way!
On top of all of this, I've become impatient with my perceived lack of progress. Today at least until the next hot flash or twinge in my breasts.
While I'm on the topic, calling them breasts is so formal. Sure I have heard numerous genetic women call them breasts, boobs, boobies and of course "the girls".
I like the girls!
Maybe when I get to the official "jiggle" point with my breasts, maybe I'll will get a bottle of champagne and rechristen them "The Girls!".