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Show CHRYSALIS pAGE 155 of microscopic criminal rehabilitation, I guess. No capitol punishment. Mama writes, "I am in the hospital again. I am not in pain, but I am uncomfortable; I can't lie on either side - only on my back. Now I am as flat on one side as on the other." She has had a second mastectomy. "Last time," she says, "they called it a radical. This time they call it a modified radical, but they both look about the same to me." I encourage her to talk about her feelings, to write them down. We are able to talk to one another not as parent to child, but now, for the first time, as woman to woman. "Everything is the same as before," she says. "They have taken out the IV and the little drain that I have carried around with me. I am glad that is over." "Do your exercizes," I tell her over the telephone. "Smile. If you can make all the people who love you feel better, you'll feel better, too." Mama says, "When your brother was born, Grandma used to say to me, 'What pretty breasts you have.' And they were. Not too small or too large, and the nipples were small and pink - so |