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I overdid it a little on a hiking and biking adventure in Bryce Canyon yesterday. Today all of the muscles in both of my butt cheeks seize every time I stand up.

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On a recent Tuesday evening I sat on a rower at Revolution Indoor Cycling. I rowed away, my forehead beginning to moisten with sweat and my heart rate climbing. A dance-y remix of a pop song played over the speakers, and multicolor lights pulsed on the back wall. Ten minutes into the workout…

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Depression is an illness. Even though cancer is the reason I am on two antidepressants and an anti-anxiety medication, you don’t have to have cancer to have depression.

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I showed up at St. John’s oncology department two Mondays ago ready to burst into tears. I was there for what might have been my third-to-last infusion of Herceptin.

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“Tamoxifen increases the chance of cancer of the uterus in some women taking it. Tamoxifen may cause blockages to form in a vein, lung or brain. It also causes liver cancer in rats.” This is from MayoClinic.org.

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I wanted to announce it to the 11 other customers at Pearl Street Bagels last Thursday. Posting it on Facebook crossed my mind, too. After a couple of minutes of consideration, though, I decided both of those would be a case of TMI — too much information. So instead I’m announcing it in a ne…

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Was it ironic? Annoying? Funny in a morbid way? Embarrassing? Humiliating? Degrading? My first time through Breast Cancer Awareness Month (October, in case you’ve been living in another universe since it was founded in 1985) as someone with breast cancer was all of these.