Catherine Gigante-Brown

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

BCBs are loud and proud and refuse to go down easy. And quietly. We have things to say. We have things to teach. We still have life to live. And damn it, we are and we will. With one breast. With no breasts. With reconstruction surgery.

A midtown Manhattan studio was recently the site of liberation-both on and offscreen-when Shenshean

When David was about 12, he told me that he wanted to take the train to school alone. My gut reaction was, “No way in hell!” I mean, we live in a safe neighborhood and all, but David has ADHD and was easily distracted. What if he missed his stop? What if someone messed with him?

Why, when I'm cool with being a salt-and-pepper chick, does it so clearly unnerve others?

Having someone steal my cancer history and co-opt it for their first-person Facebook blog is unbelievably violating. Somehow, it feels almost as invasive as my mastectomy.

All bets were off after 9/11. In a twisted way, it proved to me that worry was fruitless. No one ever saw the terrorist attacks coming.

erotic. intimate. unapologetic.

sex sage. fetish specialist. author.

I’m boycotting you until you start recognizing breast cancer survivors like me by carrying mastectomy bras.