So You’ve Been Told You Have Breast Cancer. Any Comment?

A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do!

“Why, yes, as a matter of fact I do.  Are we on?  “AHEM…”

“FUCK YOU, cancer!  Check these puppies out!  You son-of-a-bitch!  You can’t take from me what God gave me and made whole and life-sustaining.  So go ahead.  Weasel your way in and just try and invade my life!  I’ll beat you senseless, tear you limb-from-limb, burn you alive, and crush you with every ounce of my being before I let you touch my family! 

I nursed my children into powerful, brilliant, athletic, artistic leaders of their lives and their little communities. 

I displayed my femininity playfully while young bouncing in wet bathing suits, wet t-shirts, damp towels.  I used my advantage at times in business under smooth sweaters, filmy blouses, sleek blazers.  I’ve drawn eyes with scarves, necklaces, pearls.  

I comforted my husband, my children, my lovers with graceful love and tenderness.  I WILL NOT have those powers or memories robbed from me!  Go ahead.  Push me, asshole!    You have NO IDEA who you’re trying to FUCK WITH!”

(Announcer, quietly, off camera…Angie’s rancorous, disturbed thoughts are, quite clearly, the reason she once again this year WON’T be nominated for The Mother Theresa of Calcutta Award!  Now back to our studio.)