STYLE
Quiet
Loud
Muted
Whisper
Scream


RECENT ENTRIES
Can You Feel A Little Love?
Just Like Every Day
Holes In The Head
He Said She Said
Your My Best Friend


ARCHIVES
February 2005
January 2005
December 2004
November 2004
October 2004
September 2004
August 2004
July 2004
June 2004
May 2004
April 2004
March 2004
February 2004
January 2004
December 2003
November 2003
October 2003
September 2003
August 2003
July 2003
June 2003
May 2003
April 2003
March 2003
February 2003
January 2003
December 2002
November 2002
October 2002
September 2002
August 2002
July 2002
June 2002
May 2002
April 2002
March 2002
February 2002
January 2002
December 2001
November 2001
October 2001
September 2001
August 2001
July 2001
June 2001
May 2001
April 2001
March 2001
February 2001
January 2001
December 2000


OTHER VOICES


MISCELLANEOUS
Webcam

Bittersweet

Last night as I was laying in our bed in the dark I ran my hand down over my stomach and tried to remember what I looked like way before I had any scars at all. I said something to Terry about it and he told me that when Dr. W took him into the consultation room when I was very sick and in grave danger, he told him that he was going to have to make a very long incision from just under my ribs all the way down. Terry told him "She isn't going to like that at all." To which Dr. W replied something to the effect of, "At least she will have the choice not to like it." Terry was right, I am not very happy about the way it looks or feels but at the same time I am very grateful to Dr. W for giving me the ability to hate it.

Posted by gwendolyn on March 21, 2003 at 09:33 AM