There's also a spot in the middle where it skips. That's the part where I tell you how the columnist misquoted me to the point where everyone in Southern Alberta thought I was dying of cervical cancer. I'm not dying of cervical cancer. And unless something went horribly wrong between now and three months ago, I don't HAVE cervical cancer. I have the thing that comes before it.
For those of you who are interested, here is the highlight reel:
The post that started it all.
The newspaper story – read it and tell me you don't think I'm dying tomorrow and unable to bear children. Gaa!
My surgery a.k.a. date rape by BBQ utensil.
And for the truly brave, the entire emotional rollercoaster in which I get really woo-woo and weird and eventually turn into a raw foodist for several months. Ech.
My test is at 3:30 pm MST if you wanna go ahead and send some good vibes my way. If I had an iPhone, I would go Lance Armstrong on all of you and Tweet while I'm in there, feet in the stirrups and staring at the ceiling. Got the visual on that one? Ha! Happy Monday.
2 comments:
You know, the most surprising thing about all this is not that you got date raped by a BBQ utensil, strange as that may be, but that you became a raw foodist. You became a raw foodist?? Why, girl, why??
Haha...I TOLD you I got weird! I found a bunch of women who had healed themselves using raw food and my best friend had just gotten into eating raw at that time. So I thought I'd try it out. At the very least, the detox symptoms made for funny blog fodder: http://bit.ly/Gsfmz
XOXO
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