When I was a little girl, I used to blow on dandelions and make wishes that I would die by the time I was 40 so that I wouldn’t have to grow old. Thirty-something years later, it appears my wish is about to come true.
Mom-mom knew, somehow. The last time I went home to visit, I brought her a milkshake on my way to the airport. She cried when I leaned in to hug her. She never cries when I leave PA to head back to AZ. “I’m sorry – I’m just being sentimental,” she said. But I think it was more than that. I think she knew that moment would be the last time we would see each other alive.
How the hell am I going to find adequate homes for all five of my pets???
I never made it to Africa.
I never got my PhD.
Does this mean my diet changes now, or that I no longer have to give a fuck? I can’t decide.
I’m willing to try DMT now.
I want to tell them both in the front seat, “I’m sorry I ruined your day.” Not appropriate.
Why in 2019? Why not in 2017, when I would have cared much less?? Is there a reason for this extra brutal slap in the face, or is it just shitty luck?
Now I’m never going to have the chance to meet his kids.
When’s the best time to quit my job?
Jenna is going to have to find a new place to live. I need to sell the house … or am I still leaving it to Keaton?
Aunt Crystal is going to be mad when she finds out. I’ve already promised to take care of her when she gets old.
I need to cash out my three retirement accounts.
Dr. Seidel saw all that cancer when he opened me up. That’s why he didn’t bother to follow up with me after he replaced my hip. He knew I was a lost cause.
I failed everyone who fought so hard for me the first time.
I was diagnosed with Stage 3C Invasive Breast Cancer in October/November, 2015. This blog is my way to process my experience and allow my loved ones to have ongoing updates about my journey.
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