Diagnosis Night

On June 22, 2010, I received the call from my doctor, informing me that I had early-stage breast cancer.  When I hung up the phone, I called two of my best friends.  Although I had plans that evening to go to an event with Mr. Exec, my girlfriends and I decided to meet so that we could process the news together.

Mr. Exec was helping to organize the event, and I didn’t want to ruin his evening.  I sent him a text, apologizing for not being able to make it and asking him to call me afterward.  He knew me well enough to know that something was wrong and called me right away.

Mr. Exec: Tell me what’s going on.  Did you hear from the doctor?

Me: Yes.

Mr. Exec: What did she say?

Me: It’s early-stage breast cancer.

[Long pause.]

I didn’t want to tell you until later, though, since you have a big night ahead of you.

Mr. Exec: I’m glad you told me.  You know that I want to know everything that’s going on.  We’ll get through this together.

Me: I know.

Mr. Exec then asked me what the next steps were.  I told him as much as I knew at that point and asked if he could come over the following evening.

Mr. Exec: Of course.

I headed up to my apartment and proceeded to call one of my girlfriends.  The more we talked, the more I realized that I didn’t want or need to sit around with my girls that night crying.  I wasn’t dying.  I didn’t even know what my treatment plan would be yet.  It didn’t seem constructive to expend a lot of emotion over unknown variables.

I decided to meet my girlfriends the following day for lunch and go to the event as planned.  I took some time to cry and call a few other friends before I got dressed and walked over to the restaurant where the event was being held.  When I arrived at the venue, I noticed a very tall man by the doorway. 

“Oh My God!” I exclaimed to myself.  “What’s The Baron doing here?”

The Baron and I had gone to law school together back in the 1990s.  We reconnected earlier this year and went out several times.  The “relationship” was doomed from the start, though.

I found it especially surprising that The Baron was at this event since he and Mr. Exec don’t get along for reasons Mr. Exec told me on our first date.  When I walked inside, I said a quick hello to The Baron so as not to seem rude, but I kept it at that.  (What else more was there to say to him by this point?)  

I then scanned the room and noticed a lot of friends were there.  I naturally went over to Mr. Exec first.

Me [to the woman to whom Mr. Exec was talking]: Excuse me.  I don’t mean to interrupt.  I just wanted to say a quick hello to Mr. Exec.

Mr. Exec [smiling with a look of surprise]: You came?  I’m so glad!  [He gives me a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek.]

Mr. Exec returned to his conversation, and I ordered a soda and caught up with a girlfriend.  When Mr. Exec finished, he came over to me, gave me another hug and said:

I’m so proud of you!  It means so much to me that you came tonight, and it says so much about how you’ll approach this.  You’re not going to let this get the best of you!  [I nod my head in agreement.]  I’m going to take you home later and fuck the shit out of you!

Me [smiling]: That’s just what I wanted to hear.

Two hours later, the event was winding down, and I was starving.  The plan was to go get food with Mr. Exec, his best friend, Best Boy, and Best Boy’s date, Melanie*.  Best Boy, Melanie and I were ready to go, but Mr. Exec was still schmoozing and drinking.  I was getting a bit light-headed as I often do when I need to eat so when Mr. Exec finished talking to a colleague, I approached him.

Me [to Mr. Exec]: Can we go now?  I really need some food.

Mr. Exec: Sure.  Let me go to the restroom and then we can leave.

As Mr. Exec walked to the restroom, a woman approached him.  She was in her mid-late 40s, had a very toned body and dressed like a cougar.  I watched their interaction from across the bar. 

As they were talking, she put her arm around Mr. Exec’s waist.  He put his arm around her waist.  She placed her other hand on his chest and started playing with the buttons on his shirt.  He moved his hand from her waist to her ass.  She took her hand from his chest to his waist and put her hand underneath his shirt.  She started rubbing the small of his back.  He squeezed her ass.

I wasn’t sure what to make of any of this, but it didn’t sit well with me.  I felt like I was watching a movie and wanted a better view.  I moved my seat around so that I could look right at them.  I wasn’t particularly close so they didn’t notice that I was staring as I saw Mr. Exec grab her ass a second time.

Then a third.

Then a fourth.

And then a fifth.

By the fifth ass grab, I was done!  I walked up to Best Boy and Melanie, gave them both hugs and said:

I’m leaving.  I don’t need to sit around watching this.  Have a good night.

To be continued…

* I gave Best Boy's girl the nickname of "Melanie." In retrospect, that might have been confusing since my web designer's real name is Melanie. They are not one in the same.

Quite A Day

After my breast biopsies, I returned home to rest.  Mr. Exec called me when he was out of his meetings to check on me.

Mr. Exec: Do you need anything?

Me: I’m okay for now.  Mind coming over when you’re done with work?

Mr. Exec: Not at all.  I’ll be there in a few hours.

Later that day, when Mr. Exec arrived at my place, he did something that he hadn’t done since we first dated:

He took care of me!

I was surprised and touched.  We ordered some food and relaxed on the couch in front of the television.  After all the volatility of the past month, it felt like Mr. Exec and I were in a calm place.  We didn’t talk about the past or the future.  He wasn’t drunk, narcissistic or belligerent.  It was easy and fun to be around him.  I was reminded of our early dates and why I had been attracted to him in the first place. 

My phone vibrated with a few blog comments to a recent post that I had written, and we got on the topic of my blog.

Mr. Exec: Are you making money off of the blog yet?

Me: A little. One of the companies whose rep I met at the conference asked me to do some freelance articles for them.  And, another company has started giving me toys to review every week and offered to help get me into workshops and radio.

Mr. Exec: We should brainstorm one evening about ideas to see how you can really make some money off of this.  I’m sure that there are ways I can help you.

Me: Sure.  That sounds good.

I was thankful that I was sitting next to Mr. Exec, rather across from him, so he couldn’t see my knowing smile.  Philly Matt and I had called it that once Mr. Exec realized that I had started blogging about him, he would finally take the time to actually sit down and read my posts.

I didn’t need to ask Mr. Exec whether he enjoyed my blog.  His offer of assistance was all the answer I needed!  I knew Mr. Exec well enough to know that his idea of help would involve a 10% cut of any deal, but I found that more amusing than insulting.  I was intrigued about what he would say when we had our brainstorming session, but didn’t want to discuss business then.

After Mr. Exec and I finished watching a movie, we went into the bedroom.  I was in some pain and had to keep my bra on with ice packs over the areas that were biopsied.  But, I still wanted to have sex with Mr. Exec.

Mr. Exec and I had to be a bit creative when we had sex since I needed to stay on my back or right side, but we made it work.  And, it worked a lot that evening.

What had started out as a very rough day turned into a great night!  Sometimes, life is funny like that. *smile*

Cleaning — It’s A Must!

I’ve written a lot about sex toys, but I haven’t written much about caring for your sex toys. (And, by “caring,” I’m referring to cleaning.) Proper cleaning of your toys should be viewed as a necessity, not an option!

It’s recommended that you clean your toys before the first use and after each subsequent use.  Cleaning is essential for removing bacteria from the products and for prolonging their longevity. If the toy takes batteries, remove the batteries before cleaning and during storage.  For toys that you are using by yourself, you can clean them with: Hypoallergenic or mild soap and water; or a toy cleaner spray or wipes such as Mighty Tidy or Play Safe.

Mighty Tidy and Play Safe are designed specifically for cleaning adult toys of any material.  Mighty Tidy is a light cleanser that’s free of any harsh detergents.  It does contain a fragrance for those of you who like a light scent.  If you have a perfume allergy, you might want to choose Play Safe instead.  Play Safe is 100% natural and alcohol free, and also wards off certain bacterial infections.

If you are using toys with one or multiple partners, you MUST clean your toys thoroughly after every use with a strong cleaner. (In this case, “strong” doesn’t mean toxic, but rather, a product that is designed to protect against bacteria and infections, including HIV and Hepatitis B.)

A DC-area hospital recently had an outbreak of STD cases that were linked to sharing toys.  If you aren’t in a monogamous relationship with your partner and you are using toys together, make sure that you clean the toy between individual uses!  It’s worth breaking the mood for two minutes to clean the toy before you use it on yourself or your partner, especially as compared to the alternatives! A great cleaner for this purpose is Pjur Med Clean.

This gentle spray lotion is alcohol and perfume free.  (I’m not a fan of anything in the bedroom that smells like fruit or the perfume counter at a mall so that’s a plus for me.)  Pjur Med is also dermatologist-tested and safe for use on your body.  And, most importantly, the cleaner is anti-bacterial, anti-fungal and anti-viral.  That means that Pjur Med is powerful enough to guard against STDs and HIV. Toy cleaners are available in sprays or wipes. 

There seem to be more sprays on the market, but I prefer the wipes since there’s no need to get a tissue or towel to dry the toy off afterward. Pjur Med comes in both a spray bottle and wipes for $15.95. That price is higher than most of the other cleaners out there, but if you are using toys in a non-monogamous relationship, a few dollars more is a small price to pay for peace of mind!

It’s important to note that not all cleaners are intended for internal use or as a substitute for a personal wipe. Unless the cleaner explicitly states that it’s body-safe and intended for internal use, don’t use that product on anything other than your toys!

Remember to store your toys in a dry location. If the toy came in a box or with a travel satchel, you might want to keep the box or satchel for storage purposes. That will save you from having to clean your toys before each use to get rid of any dust.

If you’re in need of a personal cleanser for before or after sex, choose a product that’s free of any potential allergens like parabens.  If you have a perfume allergy or find alcohol-based products too harsh for your skin, look for wipes that are higher quality, fragrance-free and natural.

Lotus Blooms' bestselling products in this arena are the discrete and disposable Pleasure Wipes and the Femme Fresh Wipes. Pleasure Wipes are alcohol-free with a soft, clean scent and can be used before or after sex. For those of you who are in need of a wipe before sex, Femme Fresh Wipes will serve your purpose well. They also have the added benefit of root-based libido enhancers for a little extra oomph in the bedroom.

Pjur Med is a clear winner since it is highly effective as a toy and body cleaner. It’s gentle enough for sensitive skin, yet strong enough to protect against HIV. This product gets my full Five Squeals of Approval.  It might not be the norm to squeal about cleaners or safety, but pleasure shouldn’t trump hygiene and health!

Keep having fun, but don’t forget to clean those toys, too! xoxo

* Pursuant to FTC Guidelines, I received the aforementioned products free of charge in exchange for my honest assessment.

Intimate Terms

I exhaled deeply before picking up the phone to answer Mr. Exec’s call.

Me: Hey.  [Pause.]  What's up?

Mr. Exec: Hello.  How are you?

Me: Good. 

We continued to awkwardly exchange pleasantries for a few minutes before Mr. Exec told me why he was calling:

I saw your post on Facebook.

Me: Uh huh.  [I wasn’t exactly sure about which part of the update he was referring to, and I didn’t want to give him an inch.]

Mr. Exec: I’m worried about that guy harassing you in your neighborhood.  If you’d like me to arrange to have a police car there while you’re walking Nutter to make sure you’re safe, just let me know.

Me: Thanks.  I really appreciate that.  I hope I don’t need to do that, though.  I just spoke with a police officer about Creepy Apology Man.

We spoke more about that before Mr. Exec updated me on his work projects and asked about my appointments with the doctors.

Me: Well, the neurosurgeon will be speaking with my other doctors about whether I’m a good candidate for surgery.  And, I have to get two biopsies next week for the breast issues.

Mr. Exec: Is anyone going with you next week?

Me: Yes, Julie should be.

Mr. Exec: Please let me know how it goes and if you need anything.  I’ll be keeping you in my prayers and hoping that everything is okay.

Me: Thanks.

He seemed protective and caring, which I hadn't felt in a while.  When he mentioned us getting together that weekend, I said, "Sure."  As I hung up the phone, a thought crossed my mind:

There were quite a few times over the past few months when Mr. Exec hadn't be there for me or we hadn't seemed as though we were on the same page.  But, he wasn't without his endearing side.  He cared in his own way.  I just needed to figure out if that was enough for me.

Mr. Exec did come over that weekend, and there was a different vibe to our interaction.  We kissed and cuddled for an hour much like we had in the beginning, and our conversation seemed sincere since he hadn’t been drinking. 

Not surprisingly, the sex was amazing and intense. Thankfully, though, it was also uncharacteristically loving.

The way he looked me in the eyes and said that I would always be his;

The way he held me so close as he kissed me; and

The way he whispered that he wanted me to be okay because I had been through so much health stuff already and he didn't want me to be in any more pain.

Mr. Exec was a character and I knew that his selfish and narcissistic ways would rear their ugly heads again.  But, I found myself hoping that the kind Mr. Exec would stay around for a while before that happened.

While he was over, neither of us brought up our previous discussion about my blogging about our time together.  It seemed that we were past that without any further conversation.

It was the perfect night.  I liked that he referred to "us" as a couple and talked about things we would do together over the summer.  I was elated…up until the point when he brought up the "terms" of our relationship.

To be continued…

PS I’m writing this post while receiving my second round of chemotherapy.  I might not be able to promptly reply to your Tweets, comments and updates, but please know how much your support, thoughts and prayers mean to me! xoxo

The Call

I found myself surprisingly comfortable with Mr. Exec.  We were benefits without friendship – nothing more and nothing less.  However, my comfort was replaced by nostalgia, as I wrote a post about when we first dated.  A lot had changed between March and June, and I wondered:

Why were Mr. Exec, the Gentleman, and Mr. Exec, the Great Lay, mutually exclusive?

I texted Mr. Exec to let him know that I was smiling, writing about the day we played hooky together back in March.

Mr. Exec: I hope that you’re keeping things general and not writing a lot of detail.

Me: Umm…have you read my blog ;)?

Mr. Exec: You know I’m a private person, and I don’t want our time together to be blogged about.

Me: I can’t promise that.  I agreed to keep out what we had discussed, but this is what I do.  Can we talk about this in person?

He didn’t reply, but called me 30 minutes later.  By that point, it was 12:30am, and I was exhausted.

Me: I definitely think we need to talk about this, but it’s late and I’m tired.  Can we table this until we see each other next?

Mr. Exec [without answering my question]: I support what you’re doing, but I need to know what you’ve written about me.

Me: So…you haven’t read any of my blog?

Mr. Exec: No, I haven’t.

Me [pausing]: K.  I’m known for including a lot of detail so I write about everything – from how we met to what we do on our dates.  But, I’ve never used your name or talked about what you do professionally or anything like that.

Mr. Exec: Have you talked about what I look like?

Me: Yes.

Mr. Exec: What did you say?

Me: I wrote that post a month or so ago, but I think I said that you’re very attractive, tall and light-skinned.

Mr. Exec: Did you say that I have green eyes?

Me: I believe so.

Mr. Exec: Everyone’s going to know it’s me!  Who else do you know in DC who is a light-skinned black man our age with green eyes?

Me: Seriously?  There are a lot of guys in this city that match that description. 

Mr. Exec: Not guys who are making something of themselves!

“Wow,” I thought to myself.  “He is such a narcissist!”  I was actually having lunch the following day with a successful, light-skinned friend who happens to have green eyes.  But, apparently, Mr. Exec is the only one in the entire Metro DC area!

Me: I disagree with you on that one.  But, this isn't really a conversation to have over the phone.

Mr. Exec: You can’t tell me when to talk.  If I have something to say, I say it!

Me: It’s 1 in the morning.  Do you really think that now is the best time for this discussion?

Mr. Exec apparently did think it was the best time for this conversation, as he spent another 30 minutes talking about no one tells him to be quiet and how he called me at 12:30am, not 1am.  Those comments were interspersed with lines about how he thinks my blog is great, but that I shouldn’t blog about him.

I was drained and muted the phone.  For the first time since I had met Mr. Exec last October, I shed tears over him. 

Mr. Exec: Are you listening to me?

Me: Yes, I am.  I just got quiet because this hurts a lot.  I didn’t want to get into this over the phone, and I asked you if it was possible to have this conversation later when we’re in person, but you said, “No.” 

[Pause.]

When we met, I told you about my blog and gave you the link.  When we reconnected this year, you came to my Blog Party.  You knew what I was doing, and you acted like you supported me!  Now, you seem to have a problem when it’s about you.  Very few people know we’re together so no one who doesn’t know us well is going to make the connection. 

[Pause.]

Plus, this is more than a hobby. This is turning into a business for me!  You knew that!  I would never ask you to change what you’re doing professionally so I don’t take it kindly to you doing that to me!

Mr. Exec and I went back and forth for another 20 minutes or so, but it was clear that we were at an impasse.  He didn’t want me blogging about him, and I didn’t know if it was worth changing my style for a great lay.  When we hung up the phone, I honestly didn’t know if I would see him again.

Keepin’ It Wrapped

In an earlier post, I wrote about how to broach condom use without ruining the mood.  Now, let’s get to the nuts and bolts (pun intended) of shopping for condoms!

What should you consider when buying condoms?

A latex rubber condom provides protection against pregnancy, HIV/AIDS and STDs.  Choose latex, unless you have a rubber allergy.  A lubricated condom is often preferable to heighten the experience.  If you pick an unlubricated condom for a tighter fit and need to add your own lubricant over the condom, steer clear of oil-based liquids since oil weakens the effectiveness of condoms.

For those of you with latex allergies, there are polyurethane and animal skin condoms.  (No, lambskin condoms are not actually made with animal skin.)  Those types of condoms are thinner and allow for more warmth and sensation than latex condoms, but they do NOT prevent against HIV/AIDS and STDs.  As a result, it’s not recommended to use these condoms unless you’re in a monogamous relationship.

What condoms should you purchase?

If you’re making your first condom purchase, you might care to try a Variety Pack from Trojan to sample several different types.  For those of you who are able to visit Lotus Blooms or order condoms online, it’s worth picking up one of the store's bestsellers: RFSU and One.

RFSU condoms are made by the Swedish Association for Sexuality Education and are found throughout Europe.  RFSU is about more than just condoms, though, as the organization focuses on sex information, advocacy and education on an international scale.  RFSU’s condoms are made of soft and silky, yet durable, latex with silicone lubricant.  The condoms come in a rectangular package that’s about half the size of a traditional square condom.  

Next, we broke out the Classic Select condom from One.  One products are manufactured by Global Protection Corporation, a company committed to outreach and making condom use socially accepted.  One condoms combine high-quality latex with innovative packaging (the wrappers are round, not square).  In addition, a portion of all of the company’s condom sales goes to HIV prevention and treatment in Africa.    

The Classic Select condom provided a fit that was rather snug for my man.  Average-sized cocks should find the tight fit beneficial, but if you’re larger than average, choose One’s The Legend or Pleasure Dome brands.  (The former is larger in all regards, while the latter is larger around the top of the shaft.)  

Despite the snug fit, the Classic Select is thin.  The condom is also purer and has been safely treated so it doesn’t contain any of that unpleasant latex odor.  My man enjoyed the experience, even commenting that he could feel how wet and warm my pussy was while wearing the condom.  I wasn’t as fond of the Classic Select, though, since I wasn’t able to orgasm without clitoral stimulation.  
 
If it’s easier for you to purchase condoms at your local drugstore than online or at Lotus Blooms, I also recommend the Trojan Ecstasy.  I received samples of the Ultra-Ribbed Ecstasy at a conference for sex educators earlier this summer.  I loved the condom so much that I gave several to a friend. 
 
What’s so great about the Ecstasy?  The amazing G-Spot stimulating ridges on the outside!  I have never cum so much with a condom and without clitoral stimulation than when my man has worn the Ecstasy.  The latex feels sheer and smooth in a way that’s not the norm for condoms.  The condom is also shaped with a rounder head (rather than the tapered tip) and tighter base.  Since it’s looser on the shaft, it provides a less constricting experience for the man.

I don’t feel right ranking condoms because I would hate for a reader to refuse to use a condom because of my review of a particular brand.  So, I’ll give out my Condom Superlatives instead.

Best for G-Spot Stimulation: The Trojan Ecstasy

Best for a Natural Fit: The Trojan Ecstasy

Best for Feeling Heat and Wetness: One Classic Select

Thinnest: RFSU’s Birds and Bees

Try one.  Try all.  Just be safe.

What's your favorite condom and why?

 

* Pursuant to FTC Guidelines, I received the products free of charge in exchange for my honest reviews.

In The Third Person

She feels like she’s looking through a kaleidoscope, only no turn of the wheel ends up on a pretty picture.  No flowers.  No butterflies.  No vistas resembling a peacock’s plume.

“We can’t give you the easier chemo,” her oncologist says as tears stream down her face.

“Why am I finding this out now?  Why did you tell me you were going to do what’s kinder on my health?” she asks incredulously.

“All of that changed the moment we received your HER2 results.  Your cancer is too aggressive to be treated any other way.”

“Give a girl a heads up next time so I could have had some time to prepare!  [Pause.]  So, I’m definitely losing my hair?” she inquires in the midst of her sobs.

Her oncologist nods.  She asks for a few minutes to herself to call her ex-boyfriend from Philadelphia.  She listens to his words of wisdom, realizing that there’s no reason to prolong the inevitable.  Given the lab results, this is the normal protocol.

As she walks into the “Infusion Center,” one nurse comments:

You have the most beautiful hair.

“Fuck,” she replies.

The treatment itself isn’t as bad as she had expected.  Thanks to the mediport, she barely feels the eight IV bags that give her fluids, chemotherapy, herceptin and antibiotics.  She tells the nurses about her propensity for nausea and vomiting and is assured that the current medicines are much better than they used to be.

“Most people just get nauseous with chemo these days.  You probably won’t even throw up,” her nurse informs her.

“Wow! That would be great!”

She goes home and has a light dinner before watching Love Actually with one of her friends.  For a few minutes, she actually thinks to herself that this might not be that bad.

Morning brings exhaustion, which is to be expected.  But then, she can’t stomach sips of water or ginger ale.  Hours later, she ends up on the phone crying to the doctor’s office, while lying on the Oriental rug in the fetal position.

It feels like she’s starring in her own Lifetime movie.

Her friend brings her to the Infusion Center.  Two hours of fluids and anti-nausea meds do the trick, and she heads home with a smile on her face and a little of her appetite back.  Her man comes over that evening and says words so sweet that she wonders if they might actually make it through this together.

He wakes her up with warm kisses on her face, telling her that she will always be sexy to him.  When she sends him on his way to work, she hopes that the worse is behind her.

But, alas, that’s not the case.

That evening requires her to go to the Emergency Room for more fluids and anti-nausea medications.

And then, the following day, she returns to the Infusion Center for more IVs.  She may be new to the world of chemo, but she is a savvy enough patient to realize that three consecutive days of IV therapy after treatment are not the norm.  Only at that time does the Head Nurse mention that she might need to be admitted to the hospital during treatment.

In her dehydrated haze, she forgets to ask:

This time or next time?

But, she’ll remember before she goes to get her second round of chemo in October.  You can bet on that.  She will do whatever she can to ensure that this Lifetime movie does not turn into a miniseries.

She reminds herself that she is one of the lucky ones.

She is blessed.

This was caught early.

She won’t lose her hair for another week or two.

The next year is just one year in a lifetime of years.

Moment-by-moment, she will get through this.

She sobs.  For right at this moment, there is nothing else she feels like doing.

Tomorrow

I was up in Friendship Heights last week, when I received the call from my oncologist's office. The physician's assistant tried as kindly as she could to break the news to me:

So…the lab finally got back to us with the results. You're HER2 positive. [HER2 is one of the most aggressive forms of breast cancer.]

Me: I had a feeling.

We decided that I would have a mediport installed on Friday, September 17th. [A mediport is a device that's implanted under the skin and allows easy access to your veins.] And then, she scheduled me for my first of six chemotherapy sessions on Tuesday, September 21st.

When I hung up the phone, I leaned against the window of an empty storefront and sobbed for a few minutes. You know those cries where your whole body shakes? Yeah, it was that kind of cry.

Two people walked by me. I sensed that they wanted to stop, but didn't know what to say. I guess that I didn't know what to say either. (Well, besides the word, "fuck.")

I haven't cried that much since Friday, but I feel unsettled. I'm starting chemo tomorrow. There are days in which I love watching the clock move forward hour-by-hour. But, I'm watching the hours pass today as though I'm waiting for the bell to toll.

I don't want chemo. At all.

I don't want to worry about how my already weakened immune system will react to chemotherapy. I don't want to be more nauseous than I already am on a given week. I don't want to wonder if I'll fall within the 15% of people who lose their hair on this type of treatment.

Did I mention that I don't want it?

On the night after I got the port put in, my man came over to my place. The port surprisingly hurts a lot, and he's never seen me in this much pain. I was in so much pain that I didn't even want to orgasm or have sex. Me!

Me: You realize that this is going to get a lot worse, right?

Him: Yes, and I'll be here for you.

Me: I just feel really vulnerable now. Like I don't want cancer to be the reason why we don't work out.

Him: That's not going to happen.

Me: If I'm bald?

Him: I'll help you find a hot wig. Some look that you've always wanted to try. You are going to look sexy no matter what!

Me [smiling as I bury my head in his chest]: Maybe…what if I lose my sex drive?

Him: That's not going to happen with you.

Me [laughing out loud]: Misty joked that if I lose my sex drive I would still have a normal person's drive.

Him: Exactly. And, if you lose your drive, then it just means that I have to work harder.

I kissed him, as I fought back tears. It must be karma or God's way of balancing my life out that in the midst of fighting cancer, my relationship with my man and my blog are better than ever!

As I think about the months that lie ahead, I can't help but feel grateful for early diagnosis and great medical care. I realize that there could have been a much different ending to this story. I also appreciate that the treatment that I will undergo in the coming months is to ensure that I'll be around for decades to come. I owe it to myself, my loved ones and the child I will adopt to be as strong as I can and do whatever possible to live a very long life.

Yesterday, I was interviewed for a breast cancer documentary. The producers asked me how breast cancer affected me and three words came to mind:

Vanity; Advocacy and Humanity.

I feel blessed to have such an outpouring of support from friends and readers. On the advocacy front, I know that I will be doing more with the issue of toxic ingredients in sex toys. I'm a sex blogger with breast cancer and a penchant for helping others. I anticipate speaking out about the use of cancer-causing phthalates in adult toys…under my real name.

But first, I need to kick this cancer thing. And, vanity requires me to do that with my own long red locks.

xoxo

Even more to the story

Mr. Exec and I had dated for a month. And then, we stopped talking to each other for a month. Now, Mr. Exec was back in my bed, referring to us a couple and telling me not to blog about our relationship. I didn't know what shocked me more!

Me: I'm sorry I can't promise not to blog about you. That's what I do.

Mr. Exec: I'm a very private person, and I need to know that what I say and do around you won't show up in your blog.

Me: I respect that you are a private person, but have you ever actually read my blog?

Mr. Exec: No.

Me: I'm a storyteller. I'm all about the details. You're asking me to change what I do right at the point when my blog might be turning into something bigger? You went to my Blog Party. You knew what I was doing!

Mr. Exec: And, I'm happy for you. But, I just don't want you writing about me.

Me: But, you want to date me and be in my bed? Writing about that stuff is what I do!

We spoke more about my blog and my readers, and then Mr. Exec asked me to leave a specific matter out of the blog.

Me: I'm fine with leaving that out.

Mr. Exec: Good. But, I don't want stuff that happens in our bed to be a topic for your blog. That's private…between us.

Me: What's with the 'our bed' talk? So, we're doing this? We're really getting back together and going to be a couple?

Mr. Exec: Yes.

Me [Long Pause]: Then, I might be willing to write about our bedroom activities without as much detail as I normally do. I'm not sure. I'll need to see how things with us go and how it works to change my style a bit. I'll definitely leave out what we discussed, though. I get that. And, I can also send you posts before I put them up so you can see what I wrote. Does that sound okay for now and then we can talk more about this when I get closer to blogging about our earlier dates?

Mr. Exec: Yes.

We kissed again, and it felt different. We always had passion together, but now, it felt sweeter and more solid.

He moved down the bed so that his head was between my legs and starting going down on me.

Mr. Exec [coming up for air]: Did you miss this?

Me: Definitely. You know I love when you do that, baby!

Twenty minutes and several orgasms later, it was my turn to reciprocate. In between kisses and oral, Mr. Exec said:

I hated that you said I wasn't there for you.

Me: But, you weren't.

Mr. Exec: I never want to be that guy with anyone, especially you.

Me: I know you don't. And, I know that you won't be like that again.

Mr. Exec: You made me so mad when you said that I was there for my friends, but not for you.

Me: I know I did. But, I know that's not how you are fundamentally. If I thought that was who you were, you wouldn't be in my bed right now.

Mr. Exec: I'm always there for the people I care about! Always!

Me: I know. You weren't for me that one time, and I know that it will never happen again.

Mr. Exec: It won't.

The topic changed to upcoming events, and he asked:

How are you going to be at events with all these women approaching me?

Me: Will they know that we're a couple?

Mr. Exec: Yes.

Me: Then, I'll be fine. As long as we're on the same page and they know that we're together, I won't freak out or need to be all up on you. I'd only get that way if they didn't know about us.

Mr. Exec: You know if I'm flirting with older women that it's just business. I'll never lie to you and I'll never let you down.

Me: Yes, baby, I know. Business is just business. And, I will always support you professionally. We both have very expensive tastes! [We laugh.] Are you going to be fine with me flirting with other guys?

Mr. Exec: Yes.

Me: That's good because it's not like I'm a wallflower. So…we're doing this? We're going public as a couple? You're okay letting your many fans know that we're together?

Mr. Exec: Yes.

He kissed me, and then we let the discussions about the relationship and blog go. I hadn't had sex with anyone since "Buckeyes" Boy because I wasn't ready to do so. Until now.

(Much) more to the story

As I joined Mr. Exec on the couch, we caught up about work and life. (Yes, we had seen each other a few days ago at Ceiba, but we didn’t exactly have the chance to have a heart-to-heart at the bar.)

Me: I noticed on Facebook that you had some meetings at USAID. What’s going on with them?

Mr. Exec told me about a project that he was trying to get involved in. If it worked out as he was hoping it would, he’d be doing a lot of traveling.

Me: That’s great! Where to?

Mr. Exec: Well, first I’d be heading to Hong Kong and then several countries in South America. The details are still be finalized, but if we come to an agreement, I’d like to write you into the deal for South America.

Me: What do you mean?

Mr. Exec: You. Me. South America. [He names several South American countries like he’s in a Geography class. I realize that he’s rather buzzed, but I’m intrigued and want to hear more.]

Me [laughing out loud]: Okay. What exactly would we be doing there, and why would you want me there with you?

Mr. Exec then described the work that I had done as an attorney, my ongoing commitment to the causes I care about, and what I would be able to add to this specific project. I honestly didn’t realize that he knew me and my background as well as he did. I was impressed and flattered.

Me: Thanks. That would definitely be something that I’m interested in. Would it be one long trip or four small ones?

Mr. Exec: Four small ones.

Me [pausing]: I’d have to check with my doctors, but that might be doable. Especially if the trips would be spread out. [Traveling often requires me to get IVs so it’s not something that I do often anymore for the fun of it.]

Mr. Exec: How is everything going health-wise?

Me: Things have been pretty good, but I have to see my neurosurgeon since some of that stuff is getting worse. I also found a lump.

Mr. Exec [interrupting out of concern]: In your breast?

Me: Yes. I’ve had several lumps before so it’s not a big deal, but my doctors usually take them out. If everything with my health is okay, then I’d love to get involved in the project. [This occurred back in late May, and as many of you know, it wasn’t benign.]

Mr. Exec: Well, let me know what the doctors say. I’ll be praying that everything is okay.

He seemed protective of me, and I found myself liking that.

Me: Since it’s pretty late, want to get some sleep?

Mr. Exec followed me into the bedroom. I went into the bathroom to change into a shirt and shorts. When I got into bed, my dog, Nutter, would not move from in between Mr. Exec and me. It was like she knew what had happened in the past and was holding a grudge against him.

Me: Nutter is giving you no love, huh? [We laugh.] Goodnight.

Mr. Exec: Turn around and give me a goodnight kiss. [I turn around to give him the quickest kiss possible, and roll back over on my side.] No, I want a real goodnight kiss.

I turned over and really kissed him. His kiss was as good as I remembered with just the right amount of tongue and intensity. We talked between kisses:

Mr. Exec: I missed you.

Me: That’s nice to hear.

Mr. Exec: Did you miss me?

Me: No.

Mr. Exec: I know you missed me.

Me: I didn’t.

Mr. Exec: Yes, you did. It’s okay to admit it.

Me: Well…maybe a little. [I smile.]

Mr. Exec: I know you did.

Me: You’re here, aren’t you? You wouldn’t be if I didn’t miss you at all.

I rolled over so that I was on top of him, as we continued to make out. I took off my shirt and my bra, as he said:

What happens in our bed stays in our bed. Our relationship is special and private. It is not to be shared with your readers, even though you might think that they deserve to know. They don’t.

Whoaaaaa! Our bed? Our relationship? Where did that come from? And, I wasn’t supposed to blog about it! Was he kidding? I had a feeling that this was going to be a long night.

To be continued…