I used to have two boobs attached to me permanently, but now I keep the right one in a box when I’m not using it. That’s the obvious physical manifestation of having had breast cancer; the psychological and emotional scars are perhaps a lot less obvious. That all sounds very serious and contemplative, but I’m only like that sometimes; mostly I am as shallow as a toddler’s wading pool (before it’s been peed in).
I am 47, a wife and mother with a full-time professional job. I probably should make something up here about wholesome hobbies and interests, but truth be told two of the things I like best are watching TV (especially if it involves a zombie apocolypse or political drama) and sleeping. I am a pretty keen cook, very much like my mother in that I tend to show love by feeding people (oh, and I also love myself, A LOT).
This blog is about how cancer means nothing on some days, and everything on others.