Tag Archives: breast cancer
A Different Kind of Advent Calendar a.k.a. The Countdown to My PET Scan
I never had that cool Advent calendar with chocolates behind each paper window as a kid. I just watched the dates change to double digits, then blend into the twenties, until finally Christmas descended like a soft pine smelling cloud full of excitement, lit up candles, pastries, and mysterious boxes under the tree which mostly …
“I Love You, Cherri!”
Cherri was an angel that was sent to me in a form of a nurse from – since I don’t believe in God – some awesome place where atheists hang out after they die. She was a tall, willowy nurse with blondish hair tied in a low pony tail and a perpetual smile on her …
Now I Know What It’s Like Being Stabbed a.k.a. the Zoladex Shot
It is a cold DC morning and I emerge from the subway, hands stuck deep in my coat pockets and my wool hat pulled down over my ears. This is the second time I am going to my new oncologist’s office to get my monthly ovarian suppression shot. Supposedly, it will keep my aggressive cancer …
My Split Personality after Cancer
I sat in my Russian language class and the teacher corrected my classmate: “No, pak (*pronounced rahk) means cancer.” She nodded in self approval. “Yeah, it means cancer.” At that moment my carefully maintained composure for the day collapsed in pieces like if someone pulled out the wrong jenga block. Cancer didn’t mean the harmless …
The Great Cancer Escape a.k.a.Two Weeks of Being my Old Self
For over two years now, my world revolved around cancer. Eye cancer, breast cancer, re-occurrence, treatments and the fall-out of those. When one counselor asked me what I did for fun, at first I couldn’t think of anything and then I found myself stuttering something about cooking and taking walks with my dog. Even I …
PTSD Is Not Just For Soldiers
I stepped on the outside staircase landing, leash in the right hand, my dog pushing past my legs, tail wagging. But instead of going down the four flights of stairs, I stood rooted to the cement floor. My heart was pounding against my chest and I felt like my torso was being squeezed by an …
“It’s a Good Thing You Have a Feeling There” a.k.a. The Nipple Reconstruction
“It’s a good thing you have a feeling there!” exclaimed my plastic surgeon as she plunged her scalpel into my breast. I was reclined in a chair in her office and she was starting my nipple reconstruction surgery. Ever since the mastectomy, which involved removing my nipples and all the breast tissue, I had little …
At Grandma’s, Time Stood Still
As I recovered from each chemo, I often wondered what it would be like if my Grandma was still alive. I imagined myself staying at her house or, rather, a one bedroom apartment in the city. A fifth floor walk up, I used to run up the stairs, sometimes taking two at a time. Breathless, …
A Model for a Day
The girls wear tight blue jeans and black tank tops. Their feet take careful steps on their four inch heeled shoes. The one and only guy swaggers in. We each have our own make up artist as we perch on the bar stools. Our front is covered with a black plastic bib and we look …
Beastly Anniversary
Last night, a strange feeling enveloped me. It stuck to me like a spider web; it clung to me like a wet shirt. It weighed me down like a diving bell. It constricted my breathing as if an anaconda wrapped itself around my torso. It changed my thoughts to black and white. It played out …
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