Having cancer has been sort of a liberating experience. Nothing scares me anymore except the prospect of it revisiting.
After 23 years in the same home, we have made the decision to sell. It's not just the cancer thing, but the idea of future comfort. We are 52 and 48 respectively and we really need a new setting for the next phase of life. This old house, wood frame--lots of potential but needs extensive updating. Enormous yard, and all the plant proliferation a jungle-like climate brings. I am no longer a gardener and it's a full-time prospect keeping it looking tidy. The realities of physical aging. The precious commodity of time.
It's a seller's market here and headed even higher. And so, we are working on downsizing, selling things on Ebay and Letgo, cleaning out the clutter. Making a void for new and better things to enter.
So, today on Ebay I'll be putting on my favorite (and now useless) bras and swimwear, that do not work with my prosthesis. Maybe it will stop the dreams that always seem to involve my breasts-having them, losing them, missing them.