Last week, I did a PET/CT scan on a woman just about my age who very recently found out that she has breast cancer. Her sisters were with her, supporting her like my sister and friends do. They were all crying. She must have been a Stage 3, like me, because

I did something I shouldn't have done. I looked on the Web at photos of mastectomy results. It was bad, oh yeah! Scared myself but good! There were all these monster/mannish pics of women who must have had something gone wrong. So many lumps and folds and huge scars but nothing that looked anything like a female chest. Yeesh! David, of course, brought me back down to earth. He's such a sane person. I can also email my surgeon. She is very calm and strong too and can reassure me a bit.
My current plan is to buy some really cute AA-cup padded bras to wear until I can get reconstructed which could be 6 months after the double mastectomy next month. Victoria's Secret, here I come!

Well, there goes another lame-brain theory! While other people were getting

I am SO TIRED! I can't seem to get enough sleep. I nap almost every day and get enough sleep at night but I'm still tired. It's the

You know how, sometimes, you know something is a little "off" but you don't know what it is or why it's off? I had that feeling the other evening. It was late at night and things often feel "off" when I'm up a little too late. Then, I go

When Olivia is my age, we will be astounded, looking back, at how primitive my cancer treatment was. I am getting the very

Lost four toenails tonight while trying to give myself a pedicure! Ick! They were a