Cancer. I profoundly hate that six letter word. It conjures fear, loss and uncertainty. There’s not one nice thing I can say about it. It devours monetary resources. It mocks future dreams and plans. It steals understanding of what the hell is happening to my body?! As of this writing, I am two-years and a …
Chemo
My surgeon…he’s a funny guy. Side Note: NO, I will NOT get on the table for this exam. I’ve got a paper shirt on and that’s as far as I go today, thank you very much. Side Note #2: This is the same pic filtered through the fun Prisma App! I have so much fun …
After I had endured chemo and surgery, I kept hearing this: You’re done with treatment! Yay! To which I responded, “Negatory, Ghost Rider.” Man, I hate bursting people’s bubbles. “Done with treatment” is nowhere near where I’m at, mah babies, but I’m glad some think I’m so amazingly healthy-lookin’/actin’/feelin’/trash-talkin’ that they would assume the best! …
Yep. Poop. Young mommies know what I’m talking about. I see you nodding. Older folks know what I’m talking about. I see you nodding. When I was traveling the unpaved, trip-you-up road of chemo, poop became a constant topic of discussion, because it’s directly related to good health, directly related to how well a body …
When people find out you’re receiving treatment for breast cancer, but haven’t yet lost your hair, they’re calm and encouraging and full of fight for you. Once you start losing your hair, expect the same encouraging fight with a heaping side of uncomfortable unknowing about how to react properly to your cancer insides showing on …