Welcome to the sordid chronicle of my medical adventures, mishaps and triumphs with a side of assorted helpful links. Although I recently achieved that coveted clean bill of health, The Cancer Dancer will oh-so-gracefully trudge on as a means to share the personal and practical findings I continue to discover. Join me from the beginning (as the wide-eyed new patient) or join me now (as the seasoned survivor).

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Welcome back...

Behold my calloused, filthy gems:

I've been extra cautious about the welfare of my feet throughout treatment. They've been heavily guarded by the ever-durable Target sock (perfect thickness and warmth for a marley floor) for fear that I'd manage to slice my foot open while doing some treacherous pas de bourrées.

But the weather's getting warmer, and unless I can shuffle around in my dingy old J. Crew flip flops something is truly missing from my spring/summer self. Plus, Zephyr's annual Illinois Wesleyan Tour de Dance Appreciation class is upon us. And my turquoise socks ARE NOT considered nice rehearsal attire in any sense of the word. (Check out the neglected ones heaped in the corner...)

Oh bare feet, I've missed you so very much.
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