Or at least, I’m not very fun.  We went on a mini trip with the boys.  They were absolutely joyful.  Running around jumping and climbing on things, enjoying themselves.  I have to force myself to engage right now, and when I do, I find it exhausting.  I am trying.

We went to dinner.  It was nice.  The host walked by and noted we were all eating comfort food.  Husband had pot roast, eldest had fried chicken and mashed potatoes, I had salmon with more mashed potatoes and youngest had pasta with butter.  Can’t get more comforting than that.  Our family needs comfort.  There is no denying that.

There was a big party going on in the restaurant and this man stood up and gave a beautiful toast to his daughter on her fortieth birthday.

Her fortieth birthday.

And I sat there and cried a little into my mashed potatoes.

When I met the plastic surgeon last week, he smiled and said ,”Helluva Fortieth Birthday present, eh?”

Whatever, I spent my birthday in Paris and it was glorious. Breast cancer is NOT my birthday present.

But speeches like that about fortieth birthdays make me a little weepy I guess.

I am really trying hard not to feel sorry for myself.

Today was better.  I’m feeling ok.

When we got home, we turned on a DVR’d episode of “The Voice” and some country western girl starts talking about how she lost her mother to breast cancer…

“FAST FORWARD!!!  FAST FORWARD!!!”

And we did with a sigh of relief.

We don’t need to hear about that stuff.

I am not going to let this kill me.

And with that, I am going to link to an article sent to me by my dear friend and former roommate.  It speaks volumes about how to treat a patient and their family.  Please take a look if you have a chance.  HERE

As always, thank you for your support throughout this difficult time.