1.  It hurt. It really, really hurt. That being said, I find that I have a very high tolerance for pain. Conversely, I have almost no tolerance for discomfort. Cut off my breast and I’m off pain killers within two days. If there’s a bedspring poking me in the ass, though, I am inconsolable until someone gets me a donut-shaped pillow.

2.  I was quite weepy going into surgery. I haven’t been particularly weepy throughout this whole cancer diagnosis thing, but I had a hard time holding it together before surgery. I do believe they put me under with a smile on my face, however, as the last two words I remember hearing as they pushed whatever lovely narcotic that sent me into la-la-land were “nipple clamps.” It just goes to show that no matter what the context, the phrase “nipple clamps” is funny.

3.  I am a “need to know-er.” I hate surprises. One of my finest skills is the ability to unwrap Christmas presents and rewrap them so precisely that no one knows I’ve ever peeked. The waiting part of cancer is all but killing me. I still don’t know about radiation or chemo and not knowing causes me physical pain. I may have stepped over the line from “need to know-er” to “batshit crazy” when I found myself in in the toy aisle at Target asking the Magic 8 ball if I was going to need chemo. Recognizing you have a problem is the first step.

4.  My surgery was at Beth Israel Hospital in Manhattan, mere steps from Union Square. I can only imagine how many bagel shops there are within spitting distance. And yet my breakfast each morning consisted of a cellophane-wrapped bagel, emblazoned with the words, “Proudly made in Des Moines, IA.” I’m not casting aspersions on Iowa – I know lovely people from Iowa. But if you live in Iowa, do you want your corn marked “Made in Manhattan?” I didn’t think so.

5.  During my second stay in the hospital for an unknown infection, I broke a nail. The lovely patient care associate who was there to take my blood pressure commiserated, saying, “Isn’t that just the worst?” And I, who had just had a breast cut off and was confined to a hospital bed for four days for an infection, totally agreed with her. It’s all about perspective.

6.  I’m a pretty goal-oriented person, I think. First, get the hell out of the town I grew up in. Then, go to college, move to NYC, go to law school, get the good job, get married, have kids. My life followed a pretty good checklist until I got to the magic age of 40. I’ve been fumbling along for a few years, trying to figure out what the next big step of my life is.  I appreciate having the goal of kicking cancer’s ass and someday being one of those uber-cool chicks power-walking through NYC at midnight in my bra, but it does feel a little bit like my mother saying in response to my complaints about being bored during summer vacation, “If you can’t find something to do, I’ll find something for you and you won’t like it.”

7.  When I was younger and not so many things were sagging, I was a big fan of the low-cut v-neck blouse. Sure, I’d pay lip service to the notion that I wanted the cute guy in the bar to look into my eyes and not at my boobs, but really, what girl doesn’t want the cute guy to look at her boobs? Now it seems like everyone I run into can’t help staring. Like they’re trying to see if they can see a difference (yes, yes you can and no, no you don’t want to see it. I’m a freak show right now). The old lady at church, friends’ husbands, the clerk at the pharmacy counter. Eyes up, people!

8.  I’m not the best of thank you notes. I do have a stack of lovely cards sitting on my kitchen counter waiting for me to get my act together and send out thoughtful notes to all who have dropped off dinner for my kids (they’re really bummed that we’ve moved back to boxed mac & cheese and chicken nuggets after the gourmet meals they’ve been enjoying the last few weeks), picked my kids up at school, carpooled for me, sent cards, brought wine, took my kids on lengthy playdates and listened to me whine, cry, bitch and moan about my situation. I promise that I will get to them. In the meantime, if I haven’t properly thanked you yet, please know I am incredibly grateful for your generosity and friendship.

Love, MLV