Some of my favorite post-diagnosis photos. You can check out the rest of my life in photos on
Flickr. They're in chronological order, from post-diagnosis in December to present. With my real hair and then my fabulous, $4,300 wig from genius wig guru
Ralf Mollica, who's outfitted everyone from Doris Duke to Helen Gurley Brown to Robin Roberts.
Tom and I reverted to childhood one night early on.
The girls on New Year's Eve.
Dawn fondling my real tatas.
I had a Bye-Bye Boobie Bash (combined with Dawn's birthday celebration) the weekend before my mastectomy. I encouraged everyone present to feel my real boobs before they went missing. Photo by
Tomas Loewy and shirt by
Sabrina Cohen. Proceeds from the shirt benefit charity, so buy some. They are super soft and comfy, and trust me, they are head-turners.
My shrink snapped the surgical board. He also snapped the operation—he's affiliated with the hospital—but the powers that be made him erase the film!
Me just after my double mastectomy.
Me and my surgical drains after the mastectomy.
After my first inflation and mastectomy.
The shrink and mom during my lymph node removal. My shrink ROCKS.
Dana and I post lymph node surgery.
Dana and me a couple hours after lymph surgery with the infamous Epicure cake that I later slept ate. There was chocolate icing all over my apartment. I hadn't eaten in a day or so b/c of surgery, so I found myself at 2 a.m. devouring the remaining half of the cake. Best. Cake. Ever. If you live here, run to Epicure and buy this cake. I swear it's better than Magnolia Bakery.
Me being rolled into one surgery or another.
My first chemo. Check out the turkey baster syringe. That's what turned my pee pink. Electric Kool Aid, aka Cytoxin.
This sign usually reads "Designer Salon."
Mom and the dummy hit it off instantly.
Me and my drains.
Barbara aligning my chakras with a sage stick. This particular chakra? My vjayjay, "May as well do the source of everything!" she said.
Chemo may as well be fun.
Me and the NYC girls the night before my experience with Ralf.
Stace and me at Jazid.
Me and the dummy.
Dad's first chemo experience; my second.
Tom and I reverted to childhood one night early on.
The girls on New Year's Eve.
Dawn fondling my real tatas.
I had a Bye-Bye Boobie Bash (combined with Dawn's birthday celebration) the weekend before my mastectomy. I encouraged everyone present to feel my real boobs before they went missing. Photo by Tomas Loewy and shirt by Sabrina Cohen. Proceeds from the shirt benefit charity, so buy some. They are super soft and comfy, and trust me, they are head-turners.
My shrink snapped the surgical board. He also snapped the operation—he's affiliated with the hospital—but the powers that be made him erase the film!
Me just after my double mastectomy.
Me and my surgical drains after the mastectomy.
After my first inflation and mastectomy.
The shrink and mom during my lymph node removal. My shrink ROCKS.
Dana and I post lymph node surgery.
Dana and me a couple hours after lymph surgery with the infamous Epicure cake that I later slept ate. There was chocolate icing all over my apartment. I hadn't eaten in a day or so b/c of surgery, so I found myself at 2 a.m. devouring the remaining half of the cake. Best. Cake. Ever. If you live here, run to Epicure and buy this cake. I swear it's better than Magnolia Bakery.
Me being rolled into one surgery or another.
My first chemo. Check out the turkey baster syringe. That's what turned my pee pink. Electric Kool Aid, aka Cytoxin.
This sign usually reads "Designer Salon."
Mom and the dummy hit it off instantly.
Me and my drains.
Barbara aligning my chakras with a sage stick. This particular chakra? My vjayjay, "May as well do the source of everything!" she said.
Chemo may as well be fun.
Me and the NYC girls the night before my experience with Ralf.
Stace and me at Jazid.
Me and the dummy.
Dad's first chemo experience; my second.
3 comments:
Fabulous, Stephanie! Now you are my No. 1 favorite and No. 2 favorite blog! Move over Mel!
Lol. Thanks!
Stephanie, I came to your Dishalicious blog originally through Life Goes On, I Think. I think it's a great idea that you branched out to discuss cancer specifically. I enjoy your frankness and I truly find it enlightening. You say things other people are afraid to talk about and that is very valuable. Rock on with your bad self!
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