Awww, shit. Do you know what time it is, Left Ovary? Of course you do – when you spend your days alone in my pelvic cavity, you have nothing to do but mark the passage of time!
Let’s take a look at how we celebrated this glorious eventide in years past…
Year 1: Planned an egg-themed party (get it?!?!), but then I got strep throat and canceled it.
Year 2: My roommate and I got hit by a drunk driver while crossing the street to meet our friends at a bar for some celebratory drinks. We were airlifted to Stanford Hospital with broken skulls and hemorrhaging brains; we both almost died. I DO NOT RECOMMEND THIS ACTIVITY AS IT REALLY BRINGS DOWN THE MOOD.
Year 3: Was a little wary of leaving the house after the previous year’s shenanigans. Convinced myself having a near-death experience was some sort of karmic retribution for gloating about surviving cancer when so many people do not. Opted to not celebrate that year.
Year 4: Totally forgot until my mom called me a week later to wish me a “happy belated you’ve-almost-died-twice anniversary!” Hadn’t had a near-death experience that week, which further cemented my theory that not publicly celebrating your remission is good karma.
Year 5: Plan on hiding under my covers while youtubing Beyoncé videos all night.
We’ve come a long way, Lefty baby. Happy five years.
