This week is a year from the mammogram that changed everything, and nothing at all.. .reposting breast cancer blogs for friends in the midst of it themselves this year.
Tomorrow I get a prosthetic. A strange fake thing that is suppose to look real, feel real, make me look normal. I hate it already and I don’t even have it. I want to hurl it as far as my lame girl throw is able. I want to see if the damn thing skips on water. Can it knock a branch clean off a sturdy tree? I want to know if it can smash a window, a lot of windows. Maybe go through one window at the back of the house and keep right on going until it flies through the window at the other end of the house. Fling the thing far away until it takes to orbiting the planet with the rest of the space junk.
Plastic nauseates me. When girls grow up, we seem all very much alike until we mature a bit… and eventually part ways…
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