The Cancer Survivor's Chorus: Whatever, Whatever, Whatever

I lied to Sheryl Crow. But when you've survived breast cancer, you can survive anything.
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As yours truly was pulling all-nighters at the ol' drawing board, The Hubster (aka Silvano) was working 15-hour days at the restaurant. Tired and stressed out in cold, grey New York, we decided to stretch out on a lounge chair in the sunny Caribbean.

After checking into the hotel, we made a necessary trip to the gift shop. We had nothing but the clothes on our backs and what we carried on the plane, which, by the way, isn't how we started. Thank god I packed Silvano's heart meds and my Tamoxifen in my handbag.

So much for our desperately needed R'n'R. In fact...

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Enter Sheryl Crow, into the hotel gift shop...

(Here's the backstory: I met Sheryl when we were both honored in The Breast Cancer Research Foundation Awards and Symposium Luncheon at The Waldorf Astoria in October, 2006. We spent time together before we keynoted in front of a crowd of 1,000. As you know, Sheryl is a member of our club.)

And now Sheryl, rested and fresh in a white-cotton-tunic-and-flip-flops, was in front of an all-in-black-winter-clothes-black-boots-cranky-sweaty-me, as a living, breathing reminder to practice what I speeched.

"Your luggage was lost?" asked Sheryl.

Yeah, I can tell Sheryl that when you've survived cancer, you can survive anything.

Yeah, I can tell Sheryl that I am not going to sweat the superficial-stupid-small-stuff because Hey! I've grown! and now I can see the bigger picture! And losing my M.A.C purple glitter eyeshadow, C.O.Bigelow Mentha Lipgloss, and my MOST prized possession, my $50 Fit Flops, not to mention Silvano's flip-flops with the fire-breathing dragons that he wore the day that we got married which were discontinued and therefore irreplaceable and everything else in our missing luggage really, honestly, truly doesn't matter to me now!!!!!!

"Yeah, our luggage was lost." I replied, ever so nonchalantly, prompting Silvano to raise an eyebrow at the new, cool me.

"And you know what? So what!"

Yeah, I just lied. To Sheryl Crow. But I didn't stop there...

"It's like a big 'Whatever!'"

The next morning we saw Sheryl, in hot-pants-and-bikini-top ensemble, strolling on the beach carrying her son Wyatt "as in Wyatt Earp." (Baby Wyatt has the most gorgeous blue eyes).

"Did they find your luggage yet?"

"Thanks for asking, Sheryl. But nope, whatever."

"You're kidding me."

The Kabbalists will tell you to "fake it until you can make it." Your doctors will remind you how stress can impact your health. My (s)mother will recite the Louise Hay "disease=dis-ease" mantra and sprinkle it with a "Snap out of it!" like in the movie Moonstruck, and then she'd tell you about her ailments, but that's another story.

Day 3 on the beach, we again spotted Sheryl, this time in a string bikini, with baby Wyatt and Pam, her friend and manager.

"Hey Marisa, did your luggage show up yet?"

"Your luggage is lost?" Pam asked.

"Whatever," I said and meant it.

"Whatever," Sheryl said and meant it.

"Whatever?" Pam raised her brows at both us.

"Yeah," Sheryl told Pam "when you've been through what we've been through, it's a big whatever."

"Yep, whatever," I echoed.

"Whatever," Sheryl chimed in.

Back to The Hubster, he happily baked in the sun in his new orange Speedo without a care in the world.

This is Silvano's tanning oil:

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And me? What was I wearing on the beach?

Hint: there's a link between breast cancer and melanoma. (I should know, I've had both.)

See if you can find me:

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OK, and here's the answer the question I know you've been asking all along:

Yes, 40-something Sheryl Crow looks AMAZING in a bikini.

Talk about inspirational.

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