The other day I stood in front of my closet and said hello to my clothes. I assured them I still loved them … well some of them anyway … and that I hoped to wear them again soon. I commiserated with them about how boring it was to just hang out doing nothing all…
Memory is an odd thing. After two years, the memory of going through chemotherapy has faded. I certainly recall that it was god-awful, and made me sicker than anyone ever really needs to be. But the actual physical feelings induced by heavy-duty chemicals coursing through my veins … those have faded. Chemo is now really…