I stood there, topless, ready to be photographed. “Welp, here goes nothing,” I thought as I looked at the person holding the camera. In fact, I was wearing only a cheap, disposable panty and a smirk. The shutter clicked away as I was told to hold a few different poses. “Okay. That should do it,” …
One year ago today, July 31, 2019, I sat across from the nurse, my husband gently holding my hand. I squeezed his fingers as we heard the news: I was diagnosed with breast cancer. More specifically Stage 3 Invasive Lobular Carcinoma. This is me today. Feeling strong on this one year cancerversary. More hair, less …
“Don't Be A Drag, Participate Clams On The Half Shell And Roller-Skates, Roller-Skates” I’m floating across the smooth floor, going round and round in a giant oval. I’m wearing my 'San Francisco Riding Gear' flare-legged jeans, purple spaghetti- strap tank-top, Bubblegum Lip Potion sticky on my lips, my wild red hair in a giant pony …
Continue reading Clams On The Half Shell And Roller-Skates, Roller-Skates
The house is quiet. I am wrapped up in a robe my sister gave me for my post-surgery comfort, only slightly concealing the tubes sticking out of me. My husband says I look like The Borg from Star Trek: TNG. Good thing Steve is cute, empties my drains and I love him. I feel random …
In 19 days I’ll close my eyes and wake up with no boobs. Like literally NO BOOBS. I will be flatter than a tabby stretched across a glass table.
I strut up the street like the opening scene of “Saturday Night Fever”. I am not carrying a paint can, or wearing a tight leather jacket, but damn do I feel the confidence of Tony Manero. As I get ready for a run, I finally feel good. I mean really good. It’s been a few …
The past two days have been shitty. Like really shitty. But before I get to that, I want to point out that I am grateful. Grateful for still being able to work full time while undergoing chemo. Grateful I have become comfortable with my bald head. Grateful said bald head has given me the courage …
I can hear the rain. It’s violently hitting our deck. Perfect. Another excuse to skip some self-care. I had planned to go running this morning, as I am in dire need of a mental make-over. This time the rain gives me a pretty good excuse. I can’t possibly get wet, can I?? I am not …
The Portochemo 5k...ever heard of it? No? That’s because I made it up. Sounds international and exciting, doesn’t it? It isn’t, but it’s what I decide to call my first post-port/post-chemo run.
The Magnetic Resonance Imaging machine drove me into auditory insanity with its otherworldly clangs and bangs. Think a Metallica concert inside a jet engine. I was placed face down on a table, where my boobs hung individually through two square holes. I went from a 36 DD to 36 LONG in a matter of seconds. …
Route 67 