Every Seven Seconds

Right now, I think about cancer about as often as the average 14-year-old boy thinks about sex. I'm trying to get to a place where I don't think about it as much, where it takes more than six seconds for me to remember it every morning when I wake up, and where I can obsess over more important things like shoes and Jackson and whether I have enough hair to do Match.com. Easier said than done. The more I try not to think about, the more it's there.

I had my car pointed in the direction of the young women's breast cancer group on Tuesday, but I just couldn't make myself go. I decided going to the gym would be a better use of my time than sitting around talking about cancer when I'm trying so hard not to focus on it. I'm hoping with every step I take away from this, it will get a little easier. I'm looking forward to having my port taken out on Tuesday for this very reason. I don't ever plan on using the damn thing again, so get rid of it! I'm looking forward to my first post-treatment mammogram next month so that I can be sure that there's nothing left behind to worry about. I know that getting cut on and having your boob placed in a vice grip are two odd things to look forward to, but a little bit of physical discomfort will be well worth it for the peace of mind it will bring.

I still have a few cancer topics to address, and there will always be doctor's appointments and tests to update you on, but I need to figure out what happens to this blog now. I can't make myself come here everyday to talk about cancer and I lead a pretty boring existence otherwise, so posts may become less frequent. Thanks for being patient while I figure it out!