I love Charles. He is an ebony Adonis with the body of a dancer. He’s thin where a man should be thin and built where a man should be built. He’s so damn sexy, it’s scary. Charles is an old soul, like I am. He doesn’t let on to what he has seen in his native Jamaica but I can read his eyes and he knows mine very well. We are on very intimate terms. Charles touches my face regularly. He is a head makeup artist for Bobbi Brown cosmetics. When Charles greets me I light up. He embraces me … Continue reading →

Brighton Beach Baths, Brooklyn, N.Y. the poor man’s riviera; where I spent many summer days   New York City is surrounded by water; many people know it but few think about it. A friend who lives in the Midwest put it together one day and said, “Did you ever go to the beach?” Did I ever go to the beach? Now that’s a loaded question. The beach. In New York the beach was the poor man’s Riviera. Coney Island. Brighton Beach. Manhattan Beach. Riis Park. Jones Beach. Far Rockaway. Fire Island. The Hamptons. Montauk. We are all beach. I didn’t … Continue reading →

Then the change in light, brightness to dim, our eyes readjusted and we’d pass the snack bar where the teens were pushing and singing.  We’d walk up the concrete hill and face the two doors, one for men one for women.  My mother, sister and I would plod through the locker room in our rubber sandals, our feet wet and sandy, sometimes making a “squeak-squish” sound as we walked.  Piled high with damp, sandy towels, pails, aluminum chairs, the cooler bag, and whatever else we managed to drag along with us, we arrived at the locker where we would park … Continue reading →

The cookie I received in my goodie bag, months alter, at the Cancer Survivor’s Day Celebration: keynote speaker: Fran Drescher My husband and I went to meet with Dr. Chen to explore options.  She pulled out charts, my husband made notes.  She asked me if I was ok.  I saw her eyes tear up.  My gynecologist came in from down the hall, she teared up.  All I can say was, “don’t worry, everything is going to be ok.” I was consoling my doctors. I’d have to be marked with the needles again, she would do another lumpectomy to get a … Continue reading →

Hello, and thank you for your subscription to          September 30, 2004 Issue 9 Late Night Edition The Game is on! The end of the Intra-Ductal* Tome The Beginning Recovery Issue           Dear Nipplemaniacs, Thank you for all your love, support and great vibes. I just came back from the plastic surgeon where he mapped blue and green football-plays all over me. (I couldn’t convince him to work on my face.                                                    ) Circles, squares, arrows, dots, dashes…I’m going for a touch-down. 5:00 A.M. Send all that positive stuff! I’m going in, baby!! That night I looked at the … Continue reading →

Thanks for subscribing On the Mend Issue October 18, 2004   Dearest Nipplemaniacs, . I am drain and stitch free as of last Thursday.  Now I can move without being pulled south by that load I carried for 2 weeks! I was beginning to walk like an orangutan. The next step is a consult with an oncologist. Dr. Chen, the surgeon said she would be very surprised if chemo was recommended, that something like tamoxifen would be more like it. I was reminded by Dr. Keller, the plastic surgeon, that I am “not sick” just “recuperating.” I am allowed to … Continue reading →

Life in the early ’80’s; The High School of Fashion Industries     A classroom in The High School Of Fashion Industries, New York City. This may have been a room used for pattern making or draping. In the early 1980’s I worked at The High School of Fashion Industries in New York City. We were a group of six women and two men who were teachers of the deaf and ran a program within the building. We each taught several major subjects; a licensed teacher of the deaf must be able to teach preschoolers through high school, and high … Continue reading →

I’m back. I did the 5 mile walk in an hour and 45 minutes. I raised $1,525. It was hot. I was schvitzed. I’m tired. I am happy to be hot and tired; it means I am alive. Fatigue is a privelege.    Over 6,000 walkers; one could barely move, but having so many supporters along with survivors is energizing. Survivors got hot pink SURVIVOR tee shirts, a pink carnation and a SURVIVOR sash. The most moving part of the walk is the ceremonial breaking through the pink ribbon as the survivors walk through and lead; then everyone falls into … Continue reading →