June 30th — The fifth day after chemo has been one of my hard days for the past two treatments, so I’m grateful that today has been easier. I feel like I have a cold or sinus infection, but don’t have the nasty headache that prompted my oncologist to order the scary round of brain scans. Knowing my doctor’s penchant for checking everything out with a thorough scan, I’m a bit concerned about mentioning every little symptom to him now, although he did scoff a bit at the “breast cancer of the eyeball” scare, so perhaps I can mention my cold symptoms to him without fear. Is it just my cancer diagnosis or does everyone have a sneaking suspicion that the things one mocks will come back and bite them? Whenever I laugh about eyeball cancer, I think that I’m bound to get eyeball cancer just because I’m laughing at the absurdity of it. Really, is any cancer not absurd? Sara told her first grade teacher that “Mommy has too much breasts,” when I was first diagnosed. I think Mrs. H looked at my slender figure and tried to look serious while wanting to smile at the puzzling image of me having “too many breasts”. Sara was technically correct in that many cells in my breasts had forgotten to die and were crowding together where they no longer needed to be. I prefer to think of the cancer cells as misguided and confused rather than aggressive and invasive, which are the adjectives doctors use to describe my illness. So, in the quest to use the proper language to describe my condition, I prefer to say “I had breast cancer,” instead of “have” breast cancer. It may be a small point, but since the experts can’t tell me whether or not I still have cancer in my body, I prefer the past tense. And if there are any misguided cells still in my body, I prefer to think that my strong and healthy immune system, along with the onslaught of perfectly timed nasty chemo drugs, will convince those confused cells of their mortality and sweep them from my body.