The title for this muse hit me last year when I celebrated my last day of getting my hardcore chemo on the rocks. Among all the decorations, the 7th Graders in my daughter’s class had made me a poster that they all signed. It said, “Gra tit ude.” If only I could make this stuff… Continue reading My Nobel Prize–A Gratitude Party! Save The Date!
My radiologist and I recently celebrated our first and only anniversary. Though I had to go under the knife to meet him and see him again, he put my port in last October and took my port out a year later. We vow never to see each other again, but I’ll remember the laughs we… Continue reading Bosom Buddies: Leaving The Port Behind
There’s this game that we all play that the girls and I have coined ‘counting to nowhere.’ We’re all counting down the days until life isn’t so hectic or we regain our health, or we stop grieving a loss. Suppose we could make it to the new year? Then we’ll stop counting, erase our troubles… Continue reading Counting To Nowhere To Catch A Cold
September 29th came and went without any fanfare (like a tree falling in the forest with no one to hear it) though I rang that bell anyway. I didn’t plan anything. Why bother? They didn’t have a bell for me when I finished the hardcore stuff–remember the No-Bell Prize? My No-Bell Prize I couldn’t even… Continue reading You Can Ring My Bell, Finally!
Twenty-three years ago today, Alex married an outlier. I was all dressed in white, so I looked like any other bride, but I stood out from the crowd in ways we were too young to understand. But Alex and I always lived on the outskirts; we did our own thing, or better yet, in the… Continue reading The Anniversary Special: An Outlier With A Twist Of People Pleaser
It took me year, but I finally learned the truth: we all need a boob squad. No, I’m serious here. I used to think I got my life covered. I could go it alone. I didn’t need any help. But breast cancer taught me how much fun it is to be part of a team.… Continue reading Not Without My Boob Squad
I wrote last week’s muse; all it needed was one final edit, and I could push publish. Only Hurricane Ida hit, and havoc ensued. And like the flood that had parts of our neighboring town sinking in river water, my muse got washed up. Call it what you will. Natural disaster. Freak accident. Act of… Continue reading The Washed-Up Muse–Flash Flood Warnings & The Brutal Truth!
A resounding theme with cancer survivors (not to say that if you had cancer, this is you), we’re all recovering control freaks, to some degree or another. One survivor said she used to do her son’s homework. Since her need for control was so over the top, I had nothing to worry about–that wasn’t my… Continue reading Damage Control
After a year of cancer treatment, laparoscopic surgery should have been a lap dance. They call it an oophorectomy just so I can use that word with you, oof! I’m tired and grumpy and missing my body parts. Yes, I gained back my fake boobs in the process, but they don’t feel like much of… Continue reading Oof! How Are You Doing?
Sometimes life piles it on so thick you wonder how you’re still standing. At times like that, I need to remember to sit down, put the top down, and enjoy the colorful ride instead. It’s been so hard. I even missed my blog the week before last, and I was about to miss it again… Continue reading Joyriding Through Cancer & A Kaleidoscope First Year
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