Yep, this again. Except this time, it’s breast cancer. Follow along as I navigate. It’s not going to be pretty (the blog OR the “trip”) – but it’ll be honest.
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Out of head, onto screen
My chest itched today, at the scar line from my mastectomy. When my fingertips brushed the scar, I started to cry. When I saw or touched my old scars… the leukemia scars… I felt like a badass. I beat that shit and fuck that scar. So when this one made me cry, I had to…
No.
It’s been a rough week and a half. I’ve fallen twice and had to call 911. The first time was at home. I was trying to flip up my cane that had fallen, and I got tripped up trying to step over it. Scraped up my arm on the way down. Goose egg on my…
Tough times.
TLDR; my body hates me. Short version: my body freaked out when I got cancer and started attacking itself. Progressively, and now aggressively, worse. I can barely walk, stand, or move my arms. Had to call 911 twice so far for lift assistance, today because I fell trying to get out of the car and…
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This again? 