Memories of cancer come up unexpectedly lately. The big events are never hard to call up – big procedures, big news, big feels. But the little stuff hits randomly.

There’s a long hall in the cancer center between the elevator and the blood cancer unit. On days I felt good, I would strut and check myself out in the windows. Cancer unlocked some strong vein of vanity and self confidence within me which was new and not unwelcome. Bald Stephanie got good at makeup, was skinny (judge me if you will – weight has always been a struggle for me, mentally), and got bold with clothing choices. I looked like a rockstar.

On bad days, that hallway was my Everest. Bad days got more frequent as treatment went on.

Checking myself out in the windows was not as fun those days.

But it did make me at least correct my posture. I’d say to myself “tits up” like in that Ms. Maisel show. I wish this was a more inspirational story, but, at the time – straightening my spine was sometimes all I could do to motivate myself forward.

Walking down that hallway today, I had an almost knee jerk “tits up” thought cross my mind. How could I forget that rockstar? I was her once, why can’t I still be?