I’m sitting in a cafe feeling desperate. My mission to find post-surgery clothing is failing miserably. I need a button up top, maybe two if I feel risqué. This will enable any medical type who wants easy access to my boob. Also I won’t have to lift my arms to get dressed. Something I’ve been told I will appreciate immensely at the time. Except I can’t find any, not a one. So I’ve taken refuge in the coolest cafe ever and eaten as many vegetables I could find.
OK so I’m feeling renewed and off I go to Marks and Spencer’s. Perhaps trying to be funky for surgery was too big an ask. Time to suck up the uncoolness of cancer.