This January is an anniversary of sorts. It has been ten years this month since I have lived with the big C... though I imagine it was way before that month of 2001 that cancer existed in my body. January was just the lucky month when I sat in front of the doctor who spoke of the C-word to me for the first time and told me I had stage III endometrial cancer. Ten years of doctor visits, radiation, surgeries, CT scans, etc. I don't really have much to say about it at the moment. It's late and I'm tired.