Blame the first doctor who told me I don’t have breast cancer for why I stopped blogging.
Or the second one, though the third was the most unpleasant. Seeing her was not my idea. I was a mere cog in the Protocol machine.
Ironically, Protocol did not improve Dr. #3’s manners. Doctors should not scold patients. Especially when they can’t be bothered to read the notes they took the last time you were naked and examined.
Blame can also be placed on the fact that even not having breast cancer puts the hell in hellth-care. That bitch Protocol says I have to do drugs for half a decade, get felt up twice annually and expose the rest of me to enough extra radiation to nuke pizza.
If that die-namic duo is not enough to zap a gal’s blogging ability into oblivion, let’s add that oldie but goodie, the universal place to lay blame for every 8-year-old whose writing assignments also didn’t get written:
“The dog ate my homework.”