I laughed a few times and chatted with the cute nurse who rolled my bed down the hallway to my room. Until she told me about “the transfer” -- me moving from one bed to the other. Picture, if you will, one of those cartoon moments when the character’s eyes pop out of their heads. I was that cartoon character…

When I first went through breast cancer twelve years ago, besides the initial shock, my predominating thoughts went to my beautiful two-year-old boy with his long hair and sunny disposition — just as any mother or father’s would. Would I see him grow up? How was it possible that I could be parted from him so early? It was nearly too much to bear. I can remember the waiting — waiting on results and pathology reports; the trip to pick out the Christmas tree the same day I received my initial diagnosis, and how surreal it all was, but there was my child to be strong for, and we – Husband and I — were strong. And everything turned out just fine, which I know it will this time.

But I learned about life the first time...

So I spoke to my oncologist to get her input. I thought about how young I was when diagnosed the first time; I’m still considered young for this recurrence. I also considered that there were a lot of years ahead of me in which I’d be worried about the possibility of recurrence on the “good” side. I’ve already been through one biopsy on the good side two years ago…

A racist political bumper sticker targeting the sitting President of the United States is just one more indication that ugliness has become entrenched. And maybe there’s no hope for those of a certain age who haven’t learned how to behave and accept others. Maybe our only hope is with our children, to teach them well, as Crosby, Stills & Nash put so eloquently…

1. When someone tells you they’re going to have a mastectomy/reconstruction, don’t tell them, “At least you’ll get a brand new pair of boobies!” or anything closely resembling this statement in a well-meaning attempt to cheer them up about a sucky situation. I’ve only told a handful of people so far, and I’ve already heard this nearly every time...

We all get them, those noxious (and obnoxious) forwards.  The platitudes, the schmaltz, the misinformation -- the horror!  My favorite lately was the one about how Mister Rogers was a Navy SEAL and he wore those long-sleeved sweaters because his arms were covered with tattoos...

This holiday, take a deep breath and relax with some of our very own StoryRhyme.com helpful hints. Here's number 9: Don't serve that greenbean casserole with the canned mushrooms and shoestring onions because it's just gross...