-
Birthdays, Blogging, Consignment Store Shopping, Diary, DREAM Act, Fashion, Fiftieth Birthday, Hair, Health Activist Writer's Challenge 2013, Memoir, Mother Daughter Relationship, Northern Ireland, Poetry, Social Media, Teaching, The Troubles, The Troubles, Themes of Childhood, Writing
hindsight & happy birthday
For the 12th day of the Health Activist Writer’s Challenge, I’m supposed to take a trip back in time to the person I was on the day of my cancer diagnosis. What would I say to her? Cancer. When I heard it got me, I wept as though I had just found out someone dear to me had died. Inconsolable initially,…
-
Culture of breast cancer, Health Activist Writer's Challenge 2013, Language of Cancer, Memoir, Memoir, Poetry, Toxic Workplaces
breast cancer ice-breaker
I don’t care much for today’s WEGO Health Challenge that aks if my health condition were an animal what would it be? It reminds me of those frivolous team-building activities often employed to “break the ice” at professional retreats or new employee orientations. We’ve all been there, and I know I am not the only one who silently groans when a well-meaning facilitator announces,…
-
Blogging, Breast Cancer Awareness, Breast Cancer Awareness Month, Breast Cancer Treatment, Culture of breast cancer, Health Activist Writer's Challenge 2013, Memoir, Memoir, Pink Ribbons, Themes of Childhood
the “human” resource ~ star stuff
The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of star stuff. Remembering the first time I saw it, nebulous and bright white on a screen in my doctor’s darkened office, the cancer makes me think of…
-
Breast Cancer Awareness Month, Cancer Language, Culture of breast cancer, Health Activist Writer's Challenge 2013, Language matters, Language of Cancer, Themes of Childhood, Van Morrison, Writing
“between cars on a passenger train”
Not quite a “Wordless Wednesday” . . . If I close my eyes to remember, I can just make out the shadow of my former self standing up and walking out the door, mortally offended by the kindly Breast Cancer Navigator who had just told me I had cancer. Like an unexpected snow, the pronouncement fell from her lips, rendering…