By Dani Taylor
It’s December — a time of year where I feel bad about all the holiday cards I didn’t actually send. The one year I managed to send out holiday cards that were on time, handwritten, and personalized? Winter 2013. I had just wrapped up a full and fun fall of radiation treatments and capecitabine and was looking forward to kicking the new year off with by losing a few pounds of intestines. I sent off a card to all of my doctors, somewhat motivated by the hopes that if they liked me just a pinch more, maybe I’d be around to send them another card next year.
Well, I’m about six years late. It happens. And I’m on a grad student budget now. And I’ve forgotten some of your names. Uh.