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Downtown with the Tamoxifen slinger

When you take Tamoxifen, twice yearly visits are required at your oncologist's office. I hate it. It's the waiting for the other shoe to drop. One that is full of cancer.

Luckily, that day is not here for me, at least not yet, and hopefully will never be. Being in the 5-year cycle of watching sucks. Every appointment is torture--this place smells like cancer. Flashbacks and anxiety. 

As an added bonus, Candy has reached her all-time highest weight ever. Sadly, no prize.

Sue the Badass has retired. I miss her gruff, kind face. She had her own run in with a life-threatening disease and understood. Meanwhile, cancer remains as lucrative as ever and the waiting room is packed. This really pisses me off. There a a few slack-faced employees that inspire hatred on sight. They work in the finance department. Naturally.

Along the way home, we drive by my old office. It's empty and up for lease. Then we go by the new one just for the hell of it. I feel like an outsider and too fat to stop in. I don't have cause to be downtown much these days, and it's changed so much in the last 2 years. Progress, like entropy, cannot be stopped.

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