I just realised I’m a bit of a fraud. I just had surgery. And it was cosmetic. Well, not really. Actually not at all, but it was a lift. Of sorts. An internal one. To my bowel. Shudder. I’m a fraud because as you all know I am a tad anti cosmetic surgery, because of how weird women ultimately end up looking. And I think women are beautiful, all women, old or young, just as they are. So now I’m wondering. It’s all just the same really. To stop the sag of life. In my case caused by childbirth, a lifetime on my feet and hastened by chemotherapy. You’ve just got to love how cancer is a gift that just keeps giving. I do try to embrace the passing of time and relish every little moment, punctuated by gratitude, but the last couple of days have been delightfully challenging. Those who know me well, know that I have privacy issues when it comes to that area of my anatomy. We all do, but it seems me more than most. Well, clearly no longer. And to be honest, do with me what you will, the knowledge that nothing sinister was lurking, made it all worthwhile. So, to anyone contemplating any form of surgery to rectify the sag, I say, go for it.