Remember when I grumpily ran in the Susan G. Komen race last year? Nobody does. Luckily my furrowed brow and downturned mouth were all but hidden within the sea of pink tulle and joyful participants. But there I was. Stuck in the middle of the pack. Feeling sorry for myself. Trying my very best to not have a good time. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to identify as one of those women. But I am that woman. I cried the whole drive home. Most days I'm happy, grateful and content. But there are other days when I'm mad as heck that cancer has disrupted my life. Like a few weeks ago when Allergan announced a global recall of the exact type of implant I have as a result of my reconstruction surgery. Apparently they cause cancer. As if I don't have enough cancer-worry in my life already. I'm angry. I'm disappointed. I'm frustrated. I want to yell and scream and cry and yell some more. At this point, my medical team cannot determine that replacing the implants (on my own dime since my insurance won't cover it) to reduce the cancer risk would outweigh the risks of simply going under the knife again, which is honestly the last thing I want to do at this point. They've advised me to just wait and see. So I guess I'll have to pull back my shoulders, lift my head and charge onward and upward as I know I must do. I'll try not to keep glancing over my shoulder while we "wait and see".