The Thing About Breast Cancer

so…. every time the economy gets a little funky, my husband gently tries to keep me away from the stores.  He tries hard to get me to cut back … buy a few less pairs of black Stuart Weitzman pumps, navy Brooks Brothers slacks or  brandy Cole Haan purses.  Usually I ignore him and go off to Lord and Taylor and shop.  This time, however, he’s had some success.  You see, because I don’t know what kind of surgery I’ll have and what I’ll look like after the surgery, I’m hesitant to buy clothes.  I might end up being having little perky “B-cup” breasts which would open up a whole world of tailored shirts never before imagined.  I could become the tennis player with the razor-back tops or the one who wears sun dresses on hot days.  I might become that woman who could actually button a blazer, or wear a cashmere turtleneck without something over it.  Heck… I  may change my look entirely.  Either way, I’m not shopping. 

Ya know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think my husband was just playing a weird trick on me……………………….