In cyberspace, no one has to shave their beards

I find this to be hilarious.

This week, I had another follow-up to check all my lady parts.I am 3 years post-diagnosis.

Everything llooks great, he said. (blush.)

These appointments are always a little hard. Leading up to them, it's impossible not to think - at least fleetingly - of all the stories people tell of their Aunt So-and-So, who thought she had beat breast cancer, then BAM, it slithered into her room one night and strangled her in her sleep. A lot.

I don't think too much about those things, but it's impossible not to let some trace of worry seep in. Especially when - like old hens at a baby shower trading labor horror stories - people seem COMPELLED to share those stories when they learn that you had cancer, and are doing very well now. I guess it's important to have something to say.

But then, after a good check-up, I'm thrown into a different type of anxiety. Why did Aunt So-and-So get fingered for death, and I get a pass? What have I done with that pass? It's three years, folks, and I haven't made my second chance count nearly enough.

I know. Irrational. Silly. And - I'm guessing here - not uncommon.

Comments

[LeftLeaningLady]

You have adopted two beautiful children and are raising them wonderfully. You are making a life with your family.

Your emotions are probably very common and you should work through them, but enjoy the life you have.

[ppb]

I'm glad all your lady parts are fine, now. (I learned a new word for such parts last week: princess parts.) It probably won't make you feel much better but I have the same survivor's guilt every time someone I know gets bad news.

[lila]

what LLL said!

[angela marie]

What? What do you mean you haven't used your second chance wisely? Just ONE thing is that you are raising two people who will contribute to this world, not detract from it. That, my dear, is so very important. And wise.