The surgeon wanted to make a standing date for more super annoying cancer treatments every Friday for the rest of the month.

I went “Uh. . . no.”

He was surprised – who turns down such exciting offers?

I shrugged. “I’ll be out of the country.”

The plan was even (to my not so secret delight) a direct challenge to the whole notion of cancer, because I jetted away toward that dazzling forbidden treat: sunlight.

Yes, it is true, I took my fresh skin cancer scars and a cluster of tumours-in-waiting to Portugal, where I have deliberately and provocatively walked around during daylight hours.

Oh, I’m such a rebel.

Though of course I kept my tender hide covered with multiple layers of clothing and sunblock and such precautions. Because, you know, that is the “right” thing to do.

And I always do the “right” thing. Even when it is quite clearly wrong.

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