Mastectomy & Week 1 Recovery Round-Up

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Don't Believe Me, Just Watch

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I was born to stand out. I mean, look at the facts. I'm nearly 6 feet tall, I rock a crooked Italian nose and eyes so big and round I've actually been ASKED if they're real. Oh, and I've got more energy than a slice of Doc Brown's plutonium.  So, you're likely unsurprised to hear that lately I've been singing, dancing, writing, and striking up spontaneous conversations with strangers. Why? Because it’s literally been saving my life.  And, I've decided " Dance like no one's watching " is getting it COMPLETELY backwards. Dance like EVERYONE'S watching is what the world needs!!! I mean, when you are so filled with joy that your body simply can't NOT move, why oh WHY would you not share that!?! Oh, and p.s. that applies to ANYthing that brings you joy.  Yet I’ve seen it all too many times: people hold themselves back. And in the MOST inopportune ways it'll break your lovin' heart.  I’ve listened to students " try " sp...
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I've decided. This phase of chemotherapy shall here-forth be referred to as: Alice-in-Wonderlanding.  Is it early morning? Mid afternoon? Am I late for a very important date? Take the small pill for this, big purple pill for that.  Patterns, colors, lights go out... and I'm fast asleep. Or am I? Doctors warned me that chemo rounds 5 and 6 would hit me demonstrably harder than the four just prior. I was ready, and they were right. And it's a good thing I don't mind mentally strolling through fantastical self-made fairytales given this is what extreme exhaustion can induce.  In between my foggy images of real and imagined, I find it funny to look back at my own memoir. I can see the blueprint so clearly. I gear up, go to battle, feel roughly 2 days' worth of invincible thanks to steroids and adrenaline, then... I'm reminded of my own mortality. Sunday night was no different, but perhaps with just a bit more weighty nudge. I’ll begin with an explanation, Let me gue...
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