Oopsies

Oopsies happen.

So do bumps in the road, and other things you don’t plan, schedule or necessarily want.    Breast cancer falls in that category.

I’ve been writing this little “blog”  –mostly about nothings — for over two years.  Everything I’ve said, written, thought about, considered, reflected on, has been from my heart, my soul and my reality.

So, I would be denying that reality if I didn’t tell you that last week I had surgery for breast cancer.

ALERT: Life on the May is NOT going to be a cancer blog.   Not now.  Not ever.

What I have is manageable, treatable, and, according to several very smart docs and a bunch of tests, totally curable.  So there’s no reason to make Life on the May about cancer.  It is, however, clearly, a part of me now.  A new lens, if you will.

Many of you already know about this and know that round one of the process was incredibly easy.  I have no complaints.

Surgery was easy, nurses were great, drugs were even better.

Just before I was to be wheeled, rather whirringly I thought, into the operating room, my doc came in to say hello and to tell me that I was, indeed in good hands and would be just fine.

I had been given a shot of happy juice and as I watched him walk out the door, all I could think was…(and this is terrible)…”He has such a nice tush; I sure hope his hands are equally as good.”

I haven’t seen him from behind since then but experience tells me his hands were terrific.

And that, as they say, is that.