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Reminder

I love Microsoft Outlook. I have my nerdy color coded calendar with EVERYTHING on it, and it syncs with my phone, which is such a fantastic thing. Man, I love technology.

Last week a reminder popped up.

“Make appointment with oncologist”

Everything in my body stopped whirring and gurgling and there was stillness as I thought “What?”

Oh yeah, I had cancer.

I know you’re thinking “Well, duh.”

I honestly forgot.

Really.

I called my oncologist and the receptionist nonchalantly said “Ok, we have you scheduled for your yearly exam, blood tests and then we’ll have to schedule an MRI to check on your implants.”

Deep exhale.

Ew.

I don’t think about it really. I am not defined by it. It happened. I got through it and moved on. I mean, I look at these boobs every day but I usually don’t think “cancer cancer cancer” when I look at them. They’re just another part of me.

I do have a deep underlying sadness about not having my real breasts though. No sensation. At all. I thought that sadness would go away once I got used to these bad boys. I mean, it’s almost been 3 years. Silly me. Grief never goes away.  It just ebbs and flows.

I can remember the feelings of certain things but I never feel any of it. I miss it. Sometimes I imagine I am feeling something but I’m not. It must be similar to amputees feeling phantom pains. They say their leg is hurting but there is no leg.

This post is becoming darker than I wanted it to be. It’s just been swirling around in my brain and I wanted to acknowledge it.

Summer is in full bloom at casa Provost and I think I’m finally on board. My sister in law wisely said it takes a week to fully get in tune with summer. So accurate. Bourbon helps too.

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Summer Faces

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We were AT the museum with their cousins having a wonderful time and these are the faces I got as we were about to leave, accompanied by “What are we going to do NOW?”

They’re like little drug addicts. Only it’s not drugs they’re looking for, it’s new, exciting experiences.

Here they are with my nieces Lyla (12) and Ottilia (5) in a happier moment when they weren’t so bored they “wanted to cry”.

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