Wishful Thinking

In going through my phone to find photos to represent the days I've spent in a haze of pain killers, sleep, movies, and basically immobile and in quite a bit of pain on the Big Comfy Chair (so, not a lot of photos...), I came across a photo I was going to send to Mike to see if he liked the dress for his birthday party.  I decided against it as the last thing I need is another dress. 

But I look at it now and wish I'd bought and worn it, as it would have been the last time I could have without a fairly prominent scar on my shoulder.  I really like my shoulders.  I'm trying not to be sad about it, as my Mom says, "It's a battle scar that tells everyone you're a survivor, and you didn't have to do it again."

Which is true.  But even cancer survivors have a little bit of vanity...