Catherine Gigante-Brown

I know it’s not a politically correct one, but I’ve got a confession to make: earth-friendly hotels stink. There, I said it.

Being a little bit chubby is better than being a lot dead.

We’ve pieced ourselves back together in a patchwork quilt of ragged emotions. The aftermath of 9/11 wasn’t easy for us, yet it was much easier than for some. People standing 50 feet away from Peter didn’t come home that night; he did.

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.

That’s the thing about being a breast cancer survivor — it’s always there: it never goes away. The scars, the fear that lurks in the back of your mind like a boogeyman. You’re going along nicely, living your merry life, and you’re fine, until you’re not.

A new U.S. Preventive Services Task Force recommendation on mammograms ensures more women will die of breast cancer.

The Ultimate Counter Culture Diva

herbalist. shiatsu practitioner. healer.

"Remember, this isn’t just happening to you, it’s happening to moms everywhere. It’s not your fault — "

Alas, I am the lone female in a house full of men. Only two men, but they take up a lot of space.