On July the 4th in 1976, the bicentennial of our great nation.  I awoke at 3am in Lakeside, Ohio to start a journey to Plant City, Florida. I was to pick up a leased car in Kent, Ohio and take it to Greenwich, Connecticut. Where I joined several others to make the trek to the Sunshine State.  When I crossed the George Washington Bridge over the Hudson River in New York City, off to my right I saw the tall ships heading out to the harbor for the day's celebrations. The radio played every version of God Bless America in their archive. I sang every one of them. We traveled all day and into the night where we saw fireworks in at least 4 states. We reached our destination in Plant City very early in the morning on the 5th of July. But
I Larry Dean Goodwin on July 4th, 1976 in a brand new American made Red Chevrolet Monti Carlo sedan traveled through Ohio, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, Washington D.C., North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida.
God Bless America, God Bless Us All.

Tomorrow morning they are going to take them,
what am I going to do?
He says it doesn’t matter to him, because I have a pretty face.
In all the years we've been married, he’s never told me I had a pretty face.
I don’t think he’s going to be able to handle this.
Hell, I don’t think I'm going to be able to handle this.
God ******, I am going to loose my hair,
I am gonna loose my beautiful ******* hair, then everyone will know.
People will put sanitizer on their hands after they shake mine.
All my friends and family will treat me differently.
They’ll feel sorry for me, they won’t know what to say.
And then there’ll be those who will say too much, or the wrong thing.
"I’ll pray for you", some will say,
But I know what they are thinking, they think....
"that is what she gets for drinking her martinis and smoking her ***".
Some will even say it is God’s will.
**** God!
He is stealing my beauty,
my wonderfully gorgeous ****, my hair.
They are a part of me.
I don’t give a **** what a man thinks about my *******,
that they are **** or voluptuous,
they are a part of me.
And now, like a side of beef,
they are going to section me up and take them from me.
What will they do with them?
I mean after they biopsy.
Can I have them to bury?
Sorry, I know that wasn't necessary, but I am mad.
I am mad and afraid, I am so afraid.
I know my husband, he will never be the same.
He doesn’t **** me with his eyes closed, my **** turn him on.
But then any woman’s **** turn him on.
When he reaches to touch them, there’ll be nothing there.
I’ll look like a little boy, nothing.
Maybe I have identified with them too much,
I have made them a big part of my personality.
I've fed my children with them, my boyfriends fought over them,
they have got me into and out of trouble more than once.
****, I am going to have to get a whole new wardrobe.
And now, in the morning
they are going to cut them off of me
and put them in a stainless steel operating room bowl.
Like chicken fat.
Why do I feel like this,
I didn’t cry when the dentist pulled my wisdom teeth?
What if he told me I had to or else I would die, I’d pulled them myself?
I trim my nails, and get my hair cut and dyed.
I exfoliate my skin.
I lost 10lbs last year and I didn’t shed one tear,
my ******* will weigh more than that.
But I am loosing something else,
I am loosing normal.
I'll have to find a new normal.
I am loosing myself
and replacing it with a different person.
I’ll be one of them,
I’ll be a survivor,
a hero.
I'll hold hands with other survivors and walk 10 miles
and wear a **** load of pink.
Hey, but I don't look too bad in pink.

*later this week a friend is going to have a double mastectomy.  These are just a few of the words I have collected from other breast cancer survivors. I had to do something for her. My hope is that we become more aware of the fear and pain that breast cancer victims go through.