Haunted by the Ghosts of Cancers Past

I am not my father. My cancer is not my father’s cancer. Two very simple statements, but the journey I undertook to be able to say them, and more importantly, to believe them, was perilous. What I didn’t understand when I was diagnosed with breast cancer five months ago is that I would not be [...]

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Going commando to church. Do I dare?

I pride myself on being raised a cowgirl. My dad was a Texas cowboy, and he raised my sister and I to wrangle horses, shovel out stalls, throw hay bales, and never mind the dirt or the muck. We got thrown off and got back on, we hopped on our favorite quarter horse and rode [...]

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