Today I had my 3-month followup with the medical oncologist. I expected her to be annoyed that I stopped taking tamoxifen after only a couple of weeks. But she just said it's a shame I can't tolerate tamoxifen, because I didn't have radiation, so there's no extra thing protecting me from recurrence (other than the surgery itself, which was completely successful). But she - as cold a fish as I - was generally as unconcerned as I. I'll see her in six months.
Meanwhile, in joe-positive land: running is holding steady at around 43 slow miles a week. After a long battle waged almost entirely in my head, I played my erstwhile teacher's studio recital yesterday; I did not suck and I did not shine, and I took my lumps without incident. I still take lessons from two people (for the moment) so today it's back to the salt mines. So often I wonder if I sound as awful to other people as I sound to myself.