Meet My Pink Co-Survivor

Whenever I want throttle my kid, she throws me for a loop and the moment passes.  Look for her—she’s the one wearing pink every day in October (want to see a pink shirt get good use; send it this way because it will receive exposure!).

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer four years ago, among the shock, horror, and disbelief was this little 5′ pink star who became, in essence, the bell that notified Better Half when something was wrong.  Like a little fairy, she hovered quietly, listening, watching.  She wouldn’t, or couldn’t, talk to me about my cancer.  The only time I saw her laugh was when she, Better Half, and myself held a shaving party.  My hair was falling out in clumps; I needed a good shave.  A shaving party.   They were laughing and smiling, fumbling with the shaver, trying to make me feel better.  I was wobbly, sick.  I felt like I was dying inside, but that day there were two pink stars beside me. . . .

When I had my last chemo treatment, my family came to watch me ring the bell signaling I was done.  Finished.  Hopefully.  My daughter was 16 and More

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