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It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to…
So I spent the last two days trying to take a friend’s advice. “Quit feeling sorry for yourself and write something interesting.” He was a little more tactful than that, but I got the message. I did...
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Fear and Its Antidote
I’m afraid. It’s 4 am, I’m watching Downton Abbey for the first time, and can’t keep my mind on it. I’ve looked (yet again) at photos of breasts in various stages of de- and re-construction. I speak to...
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Surgery sucks.
Except when it saves your life. But it’s awful in ways having my appendix and gallbladder out 20 years ago weren’t awful. Those surgeries felt like dental procedures in comparison. Of course, there is...
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“They’re heeere…”
Foobs. Fake boobs. Rising out of nothingness…Suddenly. In Biblical fashion. The surgeons very kindly took me seriously when I said the prospect of traditional dual mastectomy horrified me. They...
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Genesis, revisited.
An interesting thing happened today. I found a baby garter snake curled around a fallen apple (did a double-take). Took it (the snake, not the apple) to show the spouse, because he’s into that sort of...
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I’m wounded and can’t get my bra off.
Anyone tired of pain and angst and wimmen’s stuff can go home right now. But I can’t get off this bus and writing’s a distraction, so I’m gonna stay right here and bore y’all to death. I’ve taken the...
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Girl Talk!
Let’s go back for a moment to my 6th grade class. It’s in one of those bungalows set high above the asphalt so no one but the principal can see inside. If he’s riding a horse. Thirty six sweaty kids...
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I’m gonna live, so why am I crying…again?
So I’ve had this marvelous breast reconstruction thanks to a very skilled plastic surgeon (which means despite bruising and surgical tape and drain holes, I’m fine with what I see in the mirror), I...
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Henny Penny’s Got Nothing on Me
I guess it’s a friend who’s “girls” give us eggs every year that brings to mind a little red hen running in circles, kicking up puffs of dust, as I look at my own girls today. The sky hasn’t fallen,...
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After the sky falls…
Sooo, after returning to work early-ish following the exchange from skin expanders to implants, I’ve had quite the eventful run of complications. That means I’m sitting here at home again, recovering....
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I’m gonna live, so why am I crying…again?
So I’ve had this marvelous breast reconstruction thanks to a very skilled plastic surgeon (which means despite bruising and surgical tape and drain holes, I’m fine with what I see in the mirror), I...
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