Some things are highly overrated

Boobs. And boobs to you, too. Really-I've been freaking out for the last two weeks-because Friday will mark exactly one year since I had cancer surgery. It isn't exactly a wonderful anniversary, either. So I freaked out early; I start early, and I'm just being prepared. For what, I don't know-I'm just prepared.

I went to all the hospital stuff last week-and Mr. Tan, the oncologist, decided to take his vacation on the very day we were supposed to have a consultation. One of his colleagues examined me and pronounced me a) still alive, and b) no lumps, bumps or other suspicious growths in the lymph nodes. So I am okay for another six months, when I am due to be examined by Mr. Tan (if he doesn't go on vacation again). I was so relieved I practically skipped out of the clinic (wouldn't that be a sight to behold!).

I will still be referred to a specialist breast surgeon who will perform the reconstruction-if I choose to go that route. But honestly, it has been a year. And I would be just as happy to write off 2013-and the start of 2014, while I'm at it. I'm not going for reconstruction. It will be a long, drawn-out process, and there will be a lot of pain, according to people in my cancer survivors' group who have had it done. Ewww...I've had enough pain. So I will stay flat as a board. Really-I would rather have no boobs and no cancer than have boobs and cancer. Obviously. Like I wrote before, some things are highly overrated.

It has been a rough week. I've thought of last year at this time, and I feel like I've accomplished so little in the last twelve months. Then I work on putting a positive spin on everything - and I remember that I am still alive. I'm really lucky, when I remember CVID, and gentamicin, and - of course - cancer. Nobody can forget cancer. I still have to concentrate on the fact that I have survived, rather than the fact that cancer can return.

I went to see my friend Dani, the acupuncturist, last week. I haven't seen her in awhile-and she lives in Essex, so I try to avoid going when I can. Every time I cross the Essex border I can feel my IQ dropping 100 points-and I'm still ten times more intelligent that the Essex population (and that is cumulative, not individual!). Dani isn't British-so I can cheerfully slag off the Essex population- as long as she never comes across this blog!

It usually takes three hours each way to go visit Dani-and this time it took four hours to get back to North London. I approached my building, and what did I see? A large mouse (or a small rat) on top of one of the garbage bins, sitting and eating something that was noxious and unidentifiable. The mouse looked at me. I looked at him (or her). We looked at each other. So I punched him.

Yep-before you get all upset, thinking I beat the crap out of a mouse, I can confirm that he saw the fist coming his way and jumped off the bin-still eating. Unfortunately, my neighbor's back door was open-and where did the little rodent go? Straight into Hazel's flat. So I waited.

Hazel is very large-about the size of an airship- and she doesn't move very quickly. So I stood there, waiting for a scream, or a crash (in case she fainted). Nothing. I waited for ten minutes, but decided that I should go inside before someone called the police and said there is a woman lurking outside the building, leaning on an elbow crutch. And, oh yeah-she punched a mouse. Probably a felony in this country. You can commit murder, rape, assault-and get your wrist slapped-but hit a mouse? Oooohhh!

I did see Hazel yesterday, very much alive and well-and still eating. Every time I see her she is eating. I think she keeps the bakeries in business. But I was so upset the other day that I went in the house and hit the Kettle Chips. Punch a mouse (well, a near miss, anyway), stuff one's face with Kettle Chips. Seems like a fair deal to me!

If there is ever a shortage of Kettle Chips-I'm in trouble. There is always-Reese's Peanut Butter Cups!

I'm doing two cancer walks for charity: one is for the charity at the Royal Free Hospital, and the other is called Race for Life. I'll be walking both of them (obviously)-me and my trusty walking stick. I figure, the more I walk, the more Kettle Chips I can eat....