What Happens When You Have Ocular Melanoma
My experience with rare disease — part two
This is actually the second post in a series of posts I plan on writing about my unexpected illness. And I use the term illness lightly.
Upon writing that sentence, I had to reflect. I don’t feel abnormally ill, as I define being ill. I think that’s the biggest issue I have and have had all my life. I was an only child raised by a man of the silent generation and a woman that was just barely a baby boomer. I’ve pointed out the importance of that before. And it’s really biting me in the butt right now.
I was taught to be tough. I was also probably predisposed to it. I was what was called a tomboy and my daddy’s little girl — not just that innocent bullshit. I mean, he taught me how to handle pretty much everything except guns. He was a police officer, and he didn’t want me handling guns. I’d ask him why, but he’s gone now, so I can’t. But let’s just say, he and my mother both did well by me to make me very independent. Though I am no longer in touch with my mother, I give her props on a lot…
