Keeping Secrets

Here's one secret I won't have to keep anymore: Amorette is pregnant!

Read all about it on her blog, in a post that breaks my heart even while I'm feeling such joy for her. Amorette was never supposed to be able to get pregnant, because of some heavy-duty cancer treatment at a very early age. (Radiation, age 3.)

Read: Wait, aren't I infertile?

Amorette does such a great job of feeling what she feels and then bleeding all over the page, in a way that is impossible not to empathize with.

I've known about this pregnancy for a little while, because we communicate by e-mail as well as on our respective blogs, and I was really afraid that I was going to slip up and say something in a comment that would out her before she was ready (chemo brain, you know).

So now I can relax about that.

Totally Shitty Day
Despite the beautiful weather, and the good news from Amorette, and the good news from my oncology appointment this afternoon (more on that later), I have been in a totally shitty mood all day, topped off by an upset tummy--Tykerb, lots of trips to the bathroom--and a swimmy/dizzy feeling that made me wonder if I was safe to drive myself to and from the doctor (of course, I drove).

I think I know why I'm in this mood.

One of the readers of my blog had a mastectomy this morning, and even though I only know her from the blog, it really got to me. I was right back there when I had my own mastectomy, nine years ago.

Back then, mostly, I felt numb. I walked, I talked, but I was numb. And this morning I think I was having a little sympathy numbness for my friend, who was in surgery.

I sent her some flowers, which seemed like such a small thing to do. Trite, even. (But I hope she likes them.)

I wanted to do so much more: Hold her hand. Tell her everything would be OK (even though we both know that no one knows if everything will be OK, but sometimes you just have to pretend, you know?). Tell boob jokes. Or boob-less jokes.

@ Jeanne Sather 2008.