Monday, February 19, 2018

This year, a sun with ironic freckles (can suns get sun-damage?) let me know I'm okay.

For those of you have been along for the ride for awhile, you might remember that I had a couple of surgeries for cervical cancer starting in 2009. The first wasn't effective and I had a hysterectomy right before Christmas in 2010. Each year since, I've held my breath waiting to see if there would be another recurrence. A couple of years ago, my old GYN (the one who did my surgeries) retired and I saw her replacement. I wasn't wild about her and that was doubly true when she did what turned out to be an unnecessary (and insanely painful) biopsy. Thankfully, it was negative, but it made me delay going back. Last month I went to see someone new and just loved her. She is frank and funny and I felt instantly comfortable. Her office sends out these postcards, that are blank on the back except for my name and address, to give the all-clear. The silly smiling sun instantly lifted my spirits - seven years with no sign of malignancy. I'll take it.

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