There’s No Good Book for This but I Wrote One Anyway: The Irreverent Guide to Crushing Breast Cancer
This is the guide to crushing breast cancer that your best friend would write for you if she'd walked this path before you. I was once where you are. In 2023, I was diagnosed with Stage 1, HER+ breast cancer during a routine mammogram. To fight it, I endured a double mastectomy, chemo, and reconstructive surgery, before going into remission in 2024.
This book is part memoir, part pep talk, and part screaming into the void. I’m going to do my best to get you ready for the fight ahead because, trust me, you will need the training montage of a lifetime. Each chapter ends with a pep talk designed to help you keep on going because we need every pep talk we can get right now. Ready? Then hang on to your boobs (or not); it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
For the gift-giver:
If you’re looking at this book right now, it’s probably because your friend/mom/wife/sister/cousin/neighbor/coworker has breast cancer. You'''re shopping for something that will make this all better. Spoiler alert: it won’t be a lavender candle (as nice as those are). What they need is a handle of tequila and a whole lot of profanity. The next best thing might be this book. It doesn't have a shot of tequila, but it does have a lot of profanity. And a little humor, because we need to laugh or we'll cry.
For the newly diagnosed:
Hey there. I'm sorry to be the one to welcome you to the worst club on earth. . . with the bravest, best members. This book isn’t going to help make the cancer go away, but I hope it will make you feel less alone. I’m going to try to try to help you keep your sanity, even if you don’t keep your boobs.
Half of all proceeds from this book goes to fight breast cancer: 25% of proceeds benefit the Susan G Komen Foundation, and 25% go the Breast Cancer Research Foundation.
This is the guide to crushing breast cancer that your best friend would write for you if she'd walked this path before you. I was once where you are. In 2023, I was diagnosed with Stage 1, HER+ breast cancer during a routine mammogram. To fight it, I endured a double mastectomy, chemo, and reconstructive surgery, before going into remission in 2024.
This book is part memoir, part pep talk, and part screaming into the void. I’m going to do my best to get you ready for the fight ahead because, trust me, you will need the training montage of a lifetime. Each chapter ends with a pep talk designed to help you keep on going because we need every pep talk we can get right now. Ready? Then hang on to your boobs (or not); it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
For the gift-giver:
If you’re looking at this book right now, it’s probably because your friend/mom/wife/sister/cousin/neighbor/coworker has breast cancer. You'''re shopping for something that will make this all better. Spoiler alert: it won’t be a lavender candle (as nice as those are). What they need is a handle of tequila and a whole lot of profanity. The next best thing might be this book. It doesn't have a shot of tequila, but it does have a lot of profanity. And a little humor, because we need to laugh or we'll cry.
For the newly diagnosed:
Hey there. I'm sorry to be the one to welcome you to the worst club on earth. . . with the bravest, best members. This book isn’t going to help make the cancer go away, but I hope it will make you feel less alone. I’m going to try to try to help you keep your sanity, even if you don’t keep your boobs.
Half of all proceeds from this book goes to fight breast cancer: 25% of proceeds benefit the Susan G Komen Foundation, and 25% go the Breast Cancer Research Foundation.
Used availability for Cara Lockwood's There's No Good Book For This But I Wrote One Anyway