[Waiting for some breakfast and then discharge.] October 20, 2015

My friend, Lynne, wrote a letter to my boobs. It’s pretty damn funny. I heart funny friends.

An open letter to Diane’s breasts,

To the one who got away. I would call you by name but I don’t know if you have one as we don’t have that kind of relationship. Regardless. You’ve been up to some mischief lately and you gotta cut that shit out. You see, we all love Diane and want to have her around for a very long time. So, enough already, good riddance, and sayonara. She’s better off running and biking without you anyway as there’s less of you to bounce around and look droopy in old age.

To the one who’s still here. For now, it doesn’t matter if you have a name as you’re part of Diane Karin Creighton Hughes and we love her just the way she is, just as we did a month ago and just as we will next year. So I’m asking you to keep yourself together, keep yourself healthy, keep yourself around as your pal over there has gone to the dark side and you’re so much better off as a Princess Leia kind of girl. BTW, have you seen the new trailer yet?… OK, I’m back. Where was I? Right, I was in the middle of a serious talking to with you about how much we love Diane and want you, the one who’s still here, to stay healthy. That’s all we’re asking.


BTW – Surgery went well. AGAIN. The cool thing is that I had all of the same nurses and doctors until I went up to my room. You have to stay in the hospital after a mastectomy for the morphine. That’s exactly what my surgeon told me. He was right of course. I needed it until I went to sleep.

The next morning I went home wrapped in an Ace bandage with a drain hanging out from under it, but that’s a story for another time – not a funny post like this.

#nomorepink #thankgodforgreen #seeyouathome


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