Dear Diary, Does This Cancer Make My Ass Look Fat?

What, you’ve never seen someone dressed as a vampire in the chemo ward?

At thirty-six, I lived a blissfully carefree existence. My biggest worry revolved around running out of hot sauce or coffee. Then I got “the news.” Ovarian cancer. Stage Three. Months of chemo. Major surgery. And a slew of uncertainty about my future.

But rather than accept my diagnosis with a sense of defeat, I chose to combat the darkness with laughter, costumes, colorful wigs, and positivity. As I once told my oncologist, “You can’t be scared of chemo when you’re wearing a coconut bra.”

I dish out every hairy hairless detail about my baldness, breakdowns, and breakthroughs – and prove that a little tumor humor is just what the doctor ordered.