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I’ve tried to begin writing this post and I’ve had a difficult time finding what to say, a fact that is, I must confess odd for me, and probably pretty remarkable to my family. Rarely do I have a problem talking. This may be because in October, Breast Cancer Awareness month, the world is full of pink.  In restaurants, department stores and even gas stations, breast cancer promotions abound and everywhere I look I seem to be surrounded by pink ribbons. Now don’t get me wrong, I am thrilled that so many businesses support Breast cancer research and I certainly don’t want that to stop. However it does serve as an almost constant reminder of my journey.  It’s a bit of a double-edged sword when a survivor is reminded of her cancer, even by those supporting a cure.  It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it, I just refuse to let my cancer define who I am. Yes, I am a Breast Cancer Survivor, but I am also a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a scrapbooker, a teacher, a planner, an artist, a writer, a computer geek, a blogger, a walker, a chocoholic, maker of a pretty mean lasagna, ice-cream junkie, and  an excellent Trivial Pursuit partner (just no sports questions).  

    
Sometimes the whole “Survivor” thing feels odd. I just did what the physicians said to do.  Surgery, chemotherapy, drugs, whatever, I just wanted to fight cancer as much as I could, and move on.  I have too much to do to let something so crappy stop me.  Of course, I researched procedures, drugs and such, but the medical personnel  are really the magic ones, I will always be grateful to the team of people that took care of my health.  I do wear my scars and my Survivor label proudly.

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