Eight years ago today I got the terrible news that my cancer had returned and spread to my bones. I went home on crutches, fell and broke my left femur. It was a long recovery but I am incredibly pleased to say I am still here, eight years later.
It's an odd feeling to outline mortality predictions. At the time, in 2002, 50% of women with metastatic breast cancer lived one year (I asked my oncologist). I've outlived that prediction many times now. Someone has to be on the far end of the statistics curve, and I think I should be one of those folks.
My mother arrived for a week's visit and we are holding a dinner party for our closest friends tonight. The menu, of course, includes three of my favorite foods: champagne, whipped cream and chocolate. (I couldn't figure out how to include the potato chips.) We'll have champagne to toast, challah, zucchini minestrone, ramen salad, roasted green beans with Marcona almonds, halibut in garlic-parmesan topping and conclude with homemade tiramisu.
This delicious meal, plus celebrating with family and friends, should be just the "pick-me-up" I need!