Tonight there will be a blue moon.
A week and a half ago I had a surgery, my fifth in a year, to remove my left breast implant. My radiated skin was simply not healing while being stretched over the implant, so we took it out and now there's nothing. When I place my hand over the spot I can feel my heartbeat, for the first time since I was about 11.
Tomorrow my surgeon will remove the stitches from this last procedure, and there will be nothing holding me together.
Friday will be my last dose of Herceptin. And then nothing, at least for a while.
No doctors, no drugs, no blood tests. No one squeezing, measuring, frowning, or patting my shoulder. Nothing.
A blue moon is when there are two full moons in a period of 30 days. Or more accurately, when there are four in a season. It's when there's extra. It's when, arguably, there is more full moon. More moonlight. Less darkness. Less nothing in the world.
But now, more for me.