My pre-Thanksgiving trip for a new prosthesis is successful.
BY Laura Yeager
PUBLISHED November 26, 2018
As well as being a cancer blogger, Laura Yeager is a religious essayist and a mental health blogger. A graduate of The Writers’ Workshop at The University of Iowa, she teaches writing at Kent State University and Gotham Writers’ Workshop. Laura survived cancer twice.
It's that time of year again to get a new prosthesis for my missing breast, which I lost due to breast cancer. The prosthesis store is 45 minutes away, so I ask my 87-year-old mother if she'd like to take a ride and accompany me on my journey to purchase a squishy breast form. She glibly tells me that it was much more fun to go with her grandmother to buy a corset in the 1930s. I ask her why.
"I'll buy you a pineapple martini, how's that?"
"Not the same."
Needless to say, I can't get Mom to go with me. She's been fighting a cold and it's the day before Thanksgiving. Mom is hosting eight people at her house on Turkey Day. She's got some tidying up to do.
So, I ask my husband one more time if he'll go with me. He declines, too.
With the Sirius Broadway channel blaring "One Singular Sensation" from A Chorus Line, heater cranked up and seat-warmer activated, I begin my travels to the prosthesis store.
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