My breasts tried to kill me.

I don’t have cancer. I have had cancer. I maybe will have cancer, and I maybe will have had cancer. In the end, I may die of cancer. Even if I don’t, I’ll still be what they call a cancer survivor. I guess when I was diagnosed about a year ago (the day before myContinue reading “My breasts tried to kill me.”

Feeling crabby

Happy birth-month to me! My birthday was last week, and, as per usual, I was out of sorts. I’ve never really enjoyed my birthday, to be honest. It’s not that I mind getting older. Heck, I have Gratiano’s line from The Merchant of Venice–“with mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come”–etched onto a mirror inContinue reading “Feeling crabby”