Them's are the odds my surgeon quoted to me as I sat in his office, an alarmingly thick tube up my (now proven) broken nose. That's how incredibly unlikely it was that I would come to him to remove a benign parotid tumor, and he would diagnose me with thyroid cancer. One in one hundred and eighty million. His suggestion? Start buying lottery tickets, honey, because winner winner, chicken dinner. Are there better ways to tell people you love that you have cancer than write a blog post? Most assuredly. So please, all of you who are reading this and wondering Why didn't she tell me ?, accept my apology. It's not because you don't matter; it's because I haven't figured out the protocol yet. There's never a right place to drop it into conversation. You: Yeah, work was really lame this week. I was in early and stayed late every day. And now they want me to work on Saturday! Me: Man, that sucks. I have cancer. You: I'm going to get a bikini wax f