2017 Komen Race for the Cure was #MoreThanPink!

2017 Komen Race for the Cure was #MoreThanPink!

Each year since my diagnosis, I reflect on what the Komen Race for the Cure means to me. It rolls around soon after my cancerversary, so it’s a good reminder of the sh-t that happened/is happening in my body and to so many others. I usually get sentimental, fearful, hopeful, and a million other ‘-fuls,’ but the first piece I wrote for this post back in March was dark and depressing. I’m glad I held that post and waited for the mood to pass, because I’d much rather share hope with you than what I was feeling a few months ago. Still,

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Three Years in Remission and I’m a Nervous-Nellie

March 14 marked three years of survivorship for me…excuse me while I do my happy dance! But wait, what is this anxiety I feel? In 2014 and 2015, I made a big deal about my cancerversaries. My work peeps heard about it for weeks leading up to the big date, my friends were invited to celebrate, and I felt a sense of giddiness to mark another year without a recurrence. What happened to the party this year? I’ve had a lot on my plate recently, and quite frankly the date nearly slipped my mind. Work has amped up, and Miss Grace and I will be moving

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Komen Race for the Cure 2015

First and foremost, thank you to everyone who supported me in the Race for the Cure this year and in years past. Your kindness and generosity are astounding, and I am humbled. The topic of breast cancer is near and dear to me. The disease is near, well, because I’ve had it and am in remission, and the fight against it is dear to me because I would love for all the little girls growing up now to never have to worry about such things. How great would that be? Each year the Race for the Cure seems to take on

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Two Years Cancer-Free: Learning to Let it Go

In my imperfect home, surrounded by friends, I celebrated my two-year cancer survivor anniversary [she does the happy dance]! I feel so blessed and thankful for every day I am cancer-free. Two years under my belt; eight more to go. No complaints, but it sure feels a hell of a lot longer than two years since this journey began. I can’t say whether it is due to the stress, or because I took the living-of-my-life up a notch and am just plain wearing myself out. I suspect it is a little of both. Either way, the crow’s-feet and gray hairs are

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Why I have a tattoo

It was just about a year ago that I got my first tattoo. I say first, because if I’ve learned anything in life, it’s to never say never. I don’t plan to have any further artwork added to my body, but who really knows? I ended up at Mad Ethel’s Tattoo in Raleigh last year after debating about it for a few decades. Seriously. I am among those who wanted a tattoo, but never had the cojones to do it. The permanent nature is what would invariably stop me. And thank GAWD, because the parrot, the phoenix, and, I’m ashamed to

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