October 1st. The starting line of that marathon called Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Though if you were to walk through the Pink Door House right now, you could look around and quickly surmise that October started pushing it's weight around here sometime in mid-September. I felt it, truly felt it, last night. I was frantically digging through our mountain of clean laundry...sure that there must be one more pair of clean little girl underwear...when the puppy peed. On the flo
"Umm...why is there a dent in my arm?"
We were both brushing our teeth. Getting ready to face the day. Preschool drop-off. Milk run. Mediating decisions like Octonauts versus My Little Pony.
We live large.
The fleshy part of my arm, just below my elbow, was firmer than usual and sporting a welt about the size of my thumb.
Another reminder that complications after cancer treatment don't evaporate after ringing that graduation bell. They just....change.
The t-shirt. It was propelled into popularity when Marlon Brando bared his (and his biceps) in A Streetcar Named Desire. (That's right... I'm using my Apparel History classes!!) They are an iconic part of American fashion. We dress them up and down. Buy them in every color imaginable. Wear them to say where we have travelled, who we are voting for, our favorite team. Wearing t-shirts as a means of self-expression became popular in the 1960's. For me, it began in my teens. I l
It was girls' night out...I had finished chemotherapy and was taking a break at home in Moses Lake. I went out for sushi and wine with the wonderful women--other young moms--who had buoyed my little family through prayers and meals. I never felt more anchored to this community than I did that night. One friend fessed up that she made "soup" for dinner for her husband and Littles, combining a few different leftovers and a healthy dose of broth. Yum? We'll give her a pass...she
Thursday my physical therapist instructed me to "lay low" and recover from traveling. Specifically, no pulling weeds (she acts like she knows me or something!). My upper right arm had some mild swelling, a sign of possible lymphedema. Because all of my axillary (underarm) lymph nodes were removed, I am at a high risk for developing this condition--known best for it's pain and swelling. I decided to tackle a small project that's been lurking undone in the corner of our dining