I started to reply to you, Sara, but I digressed. Anyway, DH is helping with the cleaning... but... can you come over??? Bring your Xmas gift!!!!! I've been a might neglectful of late, as I'm sure you can imagine.
I started to mist when you mentioned how our families feel about our milestones. My cousin Norma's like that. She cares so much. My 40th is coming up and she wanted to do the walk for life in Central Park for it, with our kids.
How do I tell her the LAST think you'll see me doing on my birthday is exercizing? I really have a hard time with the walking thing. Why walk when you can drive a Mustang????? This brings me to a funny little thing.
I hate to admit it, but the one of my first reactions when I got diagnosed, wasn't that I'd die, it was that I'd have to become one of those "survivors" and hang around with other "survivors" and go on those walks, wear pink, keep short hair, and become an advocate and a b**ch. I know, totally twisted. Please, no one get offended, I don't really like that antisocial part of myself (okay maybe I like it a little), but it's there, and well, let's laugh about it. It is totally insane, I know, but I really did think that.
Now, did I grow my hair long again NNNEEEWWW,
did I cringe at the thought of going to a gathering in LV? NNNNEEEWWWW!
Are my BC tees (especially the one from the LV gathering) the last shirts I go for when the laundry is done? NNNEEEWWW
Did I avoid walking the track when we were late for the walk? NNNEEEEWWWW That was, like, the perfect excuse, too.
I'm a changed woman, I have to break down and admit it.
Now if I could just get the b**ch part down..........
"Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall." -Confucius