- Running on the shore of San Onofre, free, the cold of dusk on the beach. She is lulled to sleep in a dry towel.
- Waking from comfort and dreams, the sand in the child’s bathing suit bottom is making the fabric hang…but it is still fun.
- It’s time for the training bra, not really necessary. They look pretty in pink
- She understands cramping, and the tenderness of her own flesh, even though it’s slight, she doesn’t know there would be more than this
- Five can be neutral, the middle of things, the half-way-there of things, mas o menos, mas o menos.
- Heavy breasts, lumps and bumps, the thrill of nipples and foreplay.
- Biopsy needles, bilateral mastectomies, BRCA 1 gene mutations, hysterectomy, oophorectomy, dreams of being a mother are sacrificed for being here just a little bit longer.
- A searing, a burning, open wounds, fevers, vomit, it’s time to learn a different way of breathing.
- Chemotherapy surprises, her vagina is falling out from under her, soft skin is disintegrating along with her heart.
- Are you willing to do this again? Yes, I am. A shorter life is ok now, quality not quantity. Choices made, ok with death, we really didn’t have much time here anyway. I am ready. I end and I begin again.
WhatsHerName Writes 