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Out to lunch with AJ last Saturday, our server greeted us with a smile.

Mid-sentence he did a double-take. Awkward pause of silence, a heavy stare at my chest. This server, half my age, was gawking at my…..T-shirt.

“What does your shirt say?” “F#%! Cancer”, and I tell him my story…I’ve told my story many times. It’s awkward, clunky and I feel like I’m talking in 3rd person. Replacing the pronouns from she to I. Surreal.

The server praises me for my courage. Calls me a warrior. I feel like a phony. Warrior, fighter, survivor, battle. War terminology. I’m quiet, an observer, I’m not aggressive…unless provoked.

Simply put, I feel like I have only one choice in the matter. When faced with cancer there is no choice but to fight. These days I categorize my life pre-post diagnosis.

July is my birthday month and I am 50! It’s a fun number to be. I’m celebrating all summer! With visits from Shelby, my brother, Cheryl, a beach trip with both nieces, girl’s trip to Savannah and a trip to Charleston to visit my sorority sister! oh, and quite a nice surprise birthday celebration.

Doing and feeling good I sometimes forget I have cancer. Isn’t that a wonderful thing?