Serene is the word that best describes my state of mind at this moment, sitting on my couch with Wally, looking at the beautiful bay outside my window and catching up on The Real Housewives of Atlanta.

This could've been the longest week of my life. Such a horrible time warp. And how do I even convey the "luckiness" I feel, all around the board? Yes, Cancer changes you however you get it. But the second time was infinitely scarier than the first somehow. Yet thankfully, the treatment supposedly will be a (no jinx) cakewalk.

So if any day called for retail therapy, it was yesterday. Full-on-full-price retail therapy, which these Jews rarely engage in. Translation: Bal Harbour. As Bergdorf's as it gets in these parts.

The "it hasn't spread" Cancer present is perhaps the best yet—and we're talking practically two years of Cancer presents here people. I've been lusting after Hermès enamel bangles for some time now. But like I said, we hardly ever pay retail for jewelry. It's technically against our religion. But I went in and tried on several and only fell more in love. So Dad bought me a pair of Tory Burch gladiator sandals (on sale) at Saks (which are quite comfortable despite the fact that most people I know say her shoes are incredibly uncomfortable) and I took the car home while they stayed and shopped.

Dad and mom got home and surprised me with the cuff that I'd most j'adored:
Loooove it. My first Hermès anything.

In another very odd footnote—I just returned from a neighborhood walk with the 'rents and ran into Tom and Hudson at Walgreen's. For you new readers, I was at Tom's apartment when I was first diagnosed. (See Heeb magazine's My Chemical Romance. And now I see him again just after I was re-diagnosed. Can you say psychic and freaky? He said he'd just been looking at my family photos on FB so he wasn't so shocked. But still, I'm telling you . . .

I think I need to go have my cards read in Cassadaga when I head up to Jax the next time.