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It occurred to me tonight–somewhere between writing “cat food” on my hand and watching Tina Fey–that the mammogram I had this week was the first time anyone has touched my breasts since June. She was nice enough and all, but it wasn’t really what I had in mind.
For now, I’m foregoing slash marks on the wall — you know, like in old prison movies — but a few more months sans caresses and it may come to that.
