Catherine Gigante-Brown

raunchy renaissance woman. multimedia artist. probably a slut.

I go for checkups when I’m supposed to: every three months to the oncologist and every six months to the breast surgeon. I go to SHARE support group meetings to bolster myself. I try to get enough sleep, despite the occasional night spent wide-eyed with dread.

Even though there’s no shortage of condoms in the Netherlands, it’s easier if you have your own birth control. Even if your trip isn’t a booty call, you never know! And if desire hits, you’ll be ready with your favorite type of BC and brand.

sex sage. fetish specialist. author.

If the odds of getting cancer are like Powerball, why couldn't I be a scratch-off millionaire?

You realize pretty soon that everything other than cancer — i.e. missing a train, being late to your dentist appointment — is no biggie compared to the suck factor of chemo.

What Stephen didn’t know –– what no one knew –– was how weak my knees grew when I pushed through the swinging doors of the ICU.

I try. I really do. But whenever I attempt to embrace my husband Peter’s Cuban culture, I always screw up.

At the New York City release party for Dayna Kurtz’ latest, Rise and Fall, my friend Nadia leaned over to me and whispered, “Why the fuck

Wrinkles or lifelines? Chunky or curvaceous? The choice is yours.