There is decidedly too little Heavy Metal in cancer.
I always thought that when terrible things happened, I'd want to sit in a dark room with Sarah McLachlan on repeat, but I'm finding that is not the case. At least, not right now.
Put the watercolors aside. Turn off the soft music. Open the blinds.
Let's blast the music and stomp! Whip our long hair around (while we still have it!). Get the adrenaline flowing! Line the walls with weapons!
Joe said to me yesterday, "If you get a mastectomy, you've got to put some ink on that." Hell yeah.