Christmas parties

It is hard to fast dance to Motown songs if you have on a strapless bra with a fake boob in it. It kept falling down. At least it did not fall out, like it did in a more intimate situation a few weeks ago. Just saying.

back in the cold

California was a pleasant surprise. i will write more on it when i am not exhausted and having to immediately go to sleep so I can get up in 5 hours and go back to work again. Binge working in order to get a bunch of days off so that i can run off to california again.

And oh yeah, I have nothing to say about cancer. i kind of forgot about it. What is it anywaay?

What a difference a year makes

So last Thanksgiving i headed up to my sisters in new Hampshire. I had just learned of my diagnosis and had not told everyone. I remember thinking i should wait until taking Laura back to College to tell her as i did not want to ruin her Thanksgiving. Boy was she pissed. I guess I learned that my kids are not quite as fargile as i think. I stayed a day or two extra at Peggy's and we drank wine Thanksgiving night. We probably split a bottle with Peggy having one glass and me the rest. I woke up with a terrible hangover but of course at the time forgot that it was a hangover and assumed the cancer had moved to my head and stomach overnight. hadn't quite gotten over the shock that sometimes things are the worst imaginable.

This year once again I head to New Hampshire, home of live free or die and the chickens mentioned earlier. No we are not eating them. I like going to Peggy's anyway because it is like my country retreat. But thanksgiving is even better. She invites her whole family, which includes the ex-husband who she has a great relationship with- kind of like that show the new adventures of old christine- and his family. I love Mike's family but they make my family look sane, which is no small feat. So last year I was all philosophical and thankful that I had what I had in that minute, not really sure how transient this life could be.....now this year, i am thankful for being free of cancer, starting out fresh, well as soon as I take care of a few really concrete things that I didn't waste time worrying about when getting rid of cancer was the only thing that was important. Now these little day to day things like old bills and a house that I just can't seem to get rid of have to be dealt with on some level.

Next week i am going to California. Just for a week, or even a little less since it will take half the day to get there- the price I am happy to pay for really cheap airfare- really it is cheaper than staying home. May be time to look for some sort of job before my California nursing license expires. Really, I could commute cross country and work per diem at Mclean while I get set up in a job out there. I had always thought I would stay here until the boob surgery but then I think what the hell, southern california has to be a plastic surgery mecca and I would probably get more stripper-boobs there than in conservative Boston. it is a thought. Of course my original venture to California was because I had nothing much keeping me here in Massachusetts with laura in college and although meghan and Chris are here, they do fine with a mother/mother in law in a far away state. But now Meghan and Chris have bought a house, which was the last thing they had to do before getting pregnant. Of course they will probably take their time with that, and even once it happens, there are still nine months and by the time my little grandchild arrives, i could be all set up in Cally and able to commute to the east coast for long periods of time to impart my wisdom to both parents and child. If they let me near it. Already i am being told I have to stop swearing, because apparently Meghan thinks she can raise a kid who will go through life without ever hearing the word fuck. A kid related to me. I guess it is possible but not likely. However, I do not have a problem refining my dirty mouth, as I intend to interview for jobs at really classy places that celebrities go to in southern california. What's great about having mcleans on my resume is that the rich and famous really do go there for treatment, just not to the part i work at (usually.) But because of patient confidentiality, i can't talk about who my patients are anyway, so who's to say that the patients I can't mention are just your average person on the street or rock stars.

So my point was.....what was my point? oh yes, not having cancer is more complicated than having it. You still have the live life in the moment mentality that you learned when you could die at any time, but with it is the real stuff that you could ignore until you realize that you are most likely going to be around a while. Not that I am complaining. better to have to deal with shit than to have avoided having to deal with it by dying.

So last thanksgiving, scared of having cancer. This thanksgiving, scared of dealing with stuff I have to deal with because I don't have cancer. Yeah. i will take this year's fear over last year's any day. I really have something to be thankful for. Also, I do not have to cook. That is something everyone can be thankful for.

So tomorrow I am going to a bar to watch Oprah. Not a football game, Oprah. maybe there will start to be daytime tv bars like there are sports bars. Not to mention sports bras. because despite what some less open minded people than me, yes I am talking about you, T-dawg, you know who you are, I think it is cool that someone I know is going to be on Oprah even if it is an unusual topic. Hey there are studies about spirituality and medicine and it scientifically shows...well something or other, i forget exactly what, but it is good.

So anyway, that is my day off. Hey, maybe we should order water and see if we can turn it into wine?

ps

Just a funny thing- on the old cell phones before they had keyboards (I am so state of the art) or keypads or whatever, and you had to text by pressing numbers and the phone would suggest words, if you wanted to type in boobs it would suggest first "bombs." And with the patriot act and everybody monitoring your calls and all....

Fame by proxy better than fame by cancer i guess

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3vcqL-_Ev7U

Don't know if that is how you cut and past the right link, but if it is, my nephew is now a movie star. Think he got that talent from me.

And, a doctor i work with is going to be on Oprah on Wednesday the 17th. Although I gave him permission to mention my name, i fear he may not have done so. Anyway, it is supposed to be about spiritual healing- not voodoo, Mark, in case you accidentally stumble upon my blog which I don't think you will. So anyway it may be of interest to people interested in alternative medicine and cancer. of course he is a psychiatrist.

So although I have not yet become famous with my own reality show- and I have to admit, I am probably past that window of opportunity because i am far less funny without cancer- my would be fame is apparently spreading to people around me. Right. This is all about me.

And once again, I must reluctantly admit that it is probably better to be cancer-free without a reality show than cancerous with one. And of course, i still have boob plastic surgery to look forward to. not that I am actually looking forward to the surgery part, just the drugs and having big boobs part, but plastic surgery does seem to be a big reality show theme. OK, a person who was funnier when she had cancer but was less funny when she got cured gets plastic surgery and lets wait to see if she is funny again? A pretty lame premise, even I have to admit but it has more of a plot than the Kardashians. If only i was having the plastic surgery on my ass......

Now i remember a cancer-related thing i wanted to complain about. I discovered that I had showtime- probably by mistake, as I am now cheap- so I watched a bunch of episodes of "The big C," which I always want to call, the c-word, which is a different thing altogether not to mention what my old boss is referred to in my cell phone, but i digress. The big C is a show about a woman who has cancer and from the previews, sounded like it would be funny because she goes out to eat and just has alcohol and dessert, which is something I always advocate. In fact when i heard about it, i thought showtime had stolen the idea from me, making cancer funny and all, who does that? But it is not even that funny? Granted, this woman, I guess, has a worse kind of cancer and I guess is supposed to die, so it is probably not going to be one of these shows that goes on for years and years. But like one of the things she decides she has to do before she kicks off is make her teenage son clean up his room and not turn out to be a slob when he grows up. Really? You have six months to live and you want to spend even a second of it thinking of housework? Totally unrealistic, not to mention stupid and of course, not funny. I would take the kid and travel the world, with a maid and live-in bartender- for me not the kid, and of course our home quarters would be at Disneyworld. Now that would be a tv show. At least in the last episode i watched, she has an affair with a really good looking black artist with an accent. Well, been there, done that, but would do it again. Of course, with her kind of cancer, she has two good boobs. Which of course I will have soon too. OK, Jamaican artists, start lining up. or not.

cancer causes you to be funny.....

Not as funny without cancer? Shouldn't that be the other way around? I am very glad to not have cancer any more but notice that i am starting to worry about all the things i worried about before cancer- money, the future- you know, stupid shit like that. I would like the cancer mindset back without the cancer. Live for today. Maybe I will make an exception only for the dreaded dentist, who is now my friend as i can see something good coming out of that experience. To date, i have done nothing I planned to do after getting cancer-free. No non profit organization for less glamorous cancers than the one i had, no becoming wise and grounded, doing yoga on mountaintops. Mostly I sleep, go to work and eat cookies. I hiked once but then it rained. Mayybe I am just in an adjustment period. Yeah, that's it! i had such good denial skills that going from being healthy to having cancer was no big deal. So now that i have to adjust to not having cancer I decide to have a crisis of sorts. Now I am just a normal person. I cannot refuse to take out the trash because "My oncologist specifically forbids me to take out trash," or cook or clean out my car or work overtime, etc. Come to think of it, adjusting to being normal is a lot more traumatic for me than adjusting to something else, life-threatening disease or not. And of course, i have to be careful to not go back to any cancer-causing habits that might have gotten me sick in the first place. I had narrowed it down to a few things i had done that probably caused cancer- exercising, wearing pink, and not ingesting enough chocolate and wine. Well, i guess the worst post-cancerous thing- and really how bad can it be, since it is not worrying about whether or not i have some life threatening disease anymore, but i suppose it gets back to what is really important in my life, which is how i look. I am sorry to say that I have bad hair. It is long enough that it no longer looks growing in from the bald chemo look- which, as I reflect on pictures of me from that time, was really not a good look at all! People must have lied to me to make me feel better but i did not look good bald. I thought that looking like i had a big head was a bad thing, until i saw pictures of me with a tiny head, and believe me the tiny head was worse. So now my head is no longer tiny, but it looks like i have intentionally cut it extremely short and the color changes on a daily basis because i used those semi-permanent hair dyes. And I am afraid what color it will turn the next time. Oh, fuck it, i still have the purple dye from haloween. I ruined two wigs trying to spray them brown to look like Sarah Palin. Clearly I am just undergoing a short adjustment period and I will be funny again. In the meantime, i am grateful to be cancer-free, grateful that the democrats pretty much won in Massachusetts and that the yankees did not win the World Series and in fact I kind of like the team that did. Not necessarily in that order.

Turning pink into green - The Boston Globe

Turning pink into green - The Boston Globe

This is npot tht funny

Is it still October? So I give my shrink the address of my blog to prove that I really do have ADD. Then I looked back on some of the posts and realized she is probably going to commit me. Although there is a really good chance she wrote the address down to be nice and has no intention of visiting it. (Just keep the crazy person happy.....)

I did yoga this norning and am feeling very virtuos despite the fact that I had 2 pieces of angel cake for breakfast. Virtuous? How the hell do you spell it anyway? It looks wrong both ways. Maybe that is because I am using my boring left brain. Last night I went to a fundraiser for breast and ovarian cancer. It was very pink. And there was fancy wine tasting which is the main reason I went because of course now I think breast cancer is getting pretty full of itself and thinks is better than those other cancers. But I did get some good ideas for the fundraiser I will have for childhood and young adult cancers, at Denise's house. I think she said it was ok. But it was in Sharon where I used to live and although it was Denise's friends, I ended up running into people who had kids that went to school with my kids and that sort of thing.

So anyway someone told me to volunteer for some cancer cause that I am interested in, so I signed up on a web site about cancer for young adults. However, I had to lie about my age to join and I think I already forgot the password. OK, ny coffee is ready.

cars

OK I got that facebook thing that makes you feel guilty if you don't post it to your profile in memory of someone with cancer- We have a thousand wishes, a cancer patient only has one- to get better. (i paraphrase.) So I posted it but since i reaaly need to be totally honest at all times unless it doesn't benefit me, I had to add, well i also had a wish for a red sports car. And I must admit reluctantly that it is probably better to be cancer-free with a 2004 Toyota Corolla than to be cancer ridden with one of those really cute BMW 2 seater convertibles. Not a miata, Denise, my boss has one and I don;t want her to think I am copying her, although I did consider dressing as her for Haloween. But instead i am going to be Sarah Palin. My campaign buttons say, "If i am elected, every unwed teenage mother will get her own reality show."

But back to the car thing. I love my car. it has hundreds of thousands of miles on it and it still runs great. Unlike those prissy entitled american cars, it thrives on neglect. When the oil change guy asked me how often I change my oil and I said, I don't know....every 50,000 miles? he laughed because he thought I was kidding. As all of us that are not young chickens, it has its marks of character. There is the little bump in the back that i won't fix because i keep it around to remind me that it is not such a great idea to have an 18 year old new driver (who actually got her license on the third try) to be your designated driver. And it gets great mileage, and it is long ago paid for and for a while I couldn't open the trunk but now I can, so it's really pretty good. Since i am one of those people secure in myself who does not need a fancy car to prove something, i am good with that. Oh, wait a minute. i do love my car, but I am not that type of person I just described. I would love to have some fancy sporty thing that is the envy of all my friends- well not my friends, they would just be happy for me and I would let them drive it whenever- so i guess i just want to be the envy of total strangers. And people I randomly meet who turn out to be assholes. But I just don't want to pay for a big fancy car. i guess there is some mercedes that cost $175,000. That is what I paid for my house in Sharon. And it had 6 acres of land. So if anyone kinows of a charity that gives expensive sports cars to people that had cancer but don't anymore but still like to whine about it, please pass on my name to them.

In fact, I was thinking of starting a cancer charity. Not to give cars to me- I'm not sure, but as an attorney i think it's possible that that could be a conflict of interest. But it would be a different sort of charity, dedicated to helping people with cancer have fun. Kids have make a wish but adults, even young ones, don't. I wouldn't limit it to breast cancer. I don't mean to sound ungrateful- i am thrilled that there is so much energy finally poured into breast cancer research. Every fucking commercial on TV is a product supporting a cure for breast cancer. Today I heard about some place that created a pink bagel and all proceeds go to research fo breast cancer. I have said it before and will say it again, breast cancer is the new Paris Hilton. People that didn't care much about you one way or the other hear you have breast cancer and suddenly you are a saint, extremely brave and their best friend. I need to take a break now and puke.

OK I'm back. Seems like people with less politically correct cancers get the short end of the stick. That blog i stumbled upon and mentioned- some young student with her whole life ahead of her gets some stupid thyroid cancer. Oooops! Not politically correct enough. Like, what color bagels are they going to make for that kind of cancer. here's a hint- they are not. breast cancer is a good feminist cause because it mostly effects women, except for my friend Adam's father who is cool although a republican, and this guy I used to work with at Childrens who was whining about it on a daily basis years after he had his treatment and he didn't even lose his hair, so it wasn't even that bad, you big baby.

But you know what? all kinds of cancers suck. i am not sure about skin cancer but all the other ones do. Whether you are old, young, male female or ambivalent about your gender. i especially hate the cancers that young people get because of my niece Emily who died from AML at 18. I know i mentioned her before, so look her up. And that is one of the other reasons i don't want to get rid of my car. Emily borrowed it the summer before she got sick to go on a road trip with her firends to look at colleges, and I can still feel her spirit in the car sometimes. No she doesn't talk to me or change the radio station but I know she's there. However, I have not been able to use her as my designated driver yet.

So stay tuned to find out if i actually have the attention span to follow through on a non profit to raise money for young adults with cancer to have fun. because fun helps. Laughter helps. Going to jamaica helps. So if any of you are movie stars who want to volunteer to support my cause when i invent it, let me know. or if you just want to buy me a BMW, well i guess that's ok. I promise to let cancer patients drive it all the time.

My big mouth

I noticed yesterday that someone in Honolulu read this blog. if it was not in error, and they read it again, I would just like to tell them that if you like the blog, you might really enjoy me in person and i would be willing to come out and visit you for, say, a month or two. Let me know. Ditto for anyone in France.

This is my week so far. Work, understaffed, stay four hours on the night shift. Work second day, again understaffed and having to stay late just to finish everything. I suppose that is not unusual for most nurses, but I am ALWAYS out the door the minute my shift is over, and frequently before then. Finally a day off and I have to go to the dreaded dentist- who is really quite nice but is nonetheless a dentist.

So anyway last night in the midst of my bitching about work and insisting there was a conspiracy between the day shift and i don't know who, Satan?- to make the evening shift so busy, and complaining about a few other things....I went out to talk to one of my patients that had just come in, a very young, very scared woman-girl who had never been in a psych unit before. At the end of the conversation, she said, how late do you work? I said usually 11:30, maybe a little later tonight. So then she said, will you come and say goodbye to me before you leave? Oh my god it was the sweetest thing and i remember why I do what i do (besides the fact that I am too ADD to run my own law office.) And I took back half of the complaints and the muttered, "Can't you shut her the fuck up?" that I am sure the person in question did not hear.

OK now i am rambling which is not unusual but it is clearly trying to avoid going to the D-word so i will stop. This had nothing to do with cancer, did it? Well read that other woman's blog i wrote about yesterday.

better than me, even

I just found another cancer blog that puts mine to shame. but keep reading mine anyway. http://cancerisnotfunny.blogspot.com/ I think that cancer that effects young people should be awarded the fame and political correctness as breast cancer is, because it is really much worse. It is one thing to be funny when you have a cancer that while being a pain in the ass is most likely curable and even if it's not you're middle aged and have done a lot of fun things. But to be seriously ill when your life- the fun part anyway- really does suck. Sorry for being serious. It probably won't happen again.

A brief explanation

First of all the last post was called live free or die trying because the hike at my sisters house was in New hampshire but I forgot to put that in. None the less some people liked it, must be some of my followers from countries I have never heard of. Not that that means anything about the countries- it is more about me. I am geographically challenged. My nephew is doing a semester abroad in Budapest, which I iknow is in Hungary. Peggy said he went to Transylvania for the weekend. I said, that isn't a real place, it was just made up for horror movies. Apparently not. Unless it is a relatively new country invented by someone with a sense of humor and a penchant for old horror movies. But i forgot to ask that. Did i use the word penchant correctly? If i was typing this on my smarter-than-me phone, i could press a button and get the exact meaning of the word. But then I would be typing on a tiny little keyboard and squishing all the letters together. But i am not as geographically challenged as Cindy, who has: 1. Once said, "now, are we in Europe or are we in England?" and 2. Opened the window of the rental car from the company I am now banned from renting cars at, but not because of this, and said "Can you tell us how to get to Switzerland?" apparently not noticing the border guards and the signs that said "Welcome to Switzerland. Don't fuck around with us. We have no sense of humor, and by the way we don't take any of the kinds of money you have from those other European countries. We have our own solely to make your life more interesting and complicated." I love Cindy. She takes everything in stride.

Now a cancer-related thing for my cancer-related blog. I read in a magazine in my sister's bathroom- in new Hampshire, the state whose motto is live free or die, abpout some designer, I think it is Anne Klein, so it is not super-expensive, and her extras or last years items will be at the regular TJ Maxx, not the fancy ones with their own fancy designer sections- but i digress, anyway, she is designing a breast cancer bracelet and selling it with profits going to breast cancer research, not to breast cancer survivors, which is where they should really go. A more upscale version of the $39.99 shoes I mentioned yesterday. I am kind of liking this support breast cancer by buying stuff movement. Of course, i do not support breast cancer. I am against it.

But having had breast cancer, I no longer love the color pink. I used to wear it all the time prior to getting it. Oh shit, maybe wearing pink causes breast cancer! I need to warn my sister- in california, whose motto I do not know, is it "Let's elect a republican actor for governor and then make marijuana legal so we can put up with it?" It should be. Anyway i should warn her not to wear my favorite pair of pink shoes, from a famous designer at the fancy TJ Maxx, which I left there, anticipating establishing California residency. But I think she has bigger feet than me.

And I thought I had nothing to say. A benefit of my brand of ADD. You are never bored because as soon as you think of one thing to say, your mind goes on to something else. Plus I heard that if you write for a long time, and I imagine typing is the same, eventually the other side of your brain which is the creative side kicks in. I think it is the right side of the brain that is creative and the left side logical. I don't like that, it should be the opposite. i guess because left is usually associated with the more interesting and fun things like in politics. And maybe therein lies why I still have trouble telling my left from my right. Not politically. I think I want to be Sarah palin for Haloween because that is the scariest thing i can think of. But directionally. if I am in a car and someone- a person or even worse, the dreaded GPS, and they say take a left I invariably take a right and vice versa. Unless it is my sister peggy who will say take a left meaning a right, because she also is directionally challenged. But not geographically challenged because she knew about Transylvania. of course, she probably looked it up because it is her son that is there. Like I had to look up Prague when Laura was thinking of going there. I forget what country it is in- not because i am stupid, but because it was in Czechoslovakia but i think that country has changed names, at least i hope so because it is very hard to spell and I do not have spellcheck on here although I probably do on that fucking phone.

OK that is enough. And to think i didn't think I had anything to write about post-cancer. Maybe i should change the name to cancer does suck, but ADD is very funny. But i do not have the attention span to figure out how to do that.......

Live free or die trying.......

See how bad I am at keeping up with this blog since I don't have cancer anymore. So now i will probably cram a million things into this one, as I thought of a few cancer-related things this week.

First, i am not going to talk in detail about my teeth but the whole idea of going to a dentist- i realized than when i blurted out at my radiation doctor check-up (I am incredibly healthy) " Well when I realized I was not going to die from cancer, I figured I might as well get my teeth fixed."- I was absolutely telling the truth. I thought I had a positive attitude when I was being treated, and I pretty much did, but in the back of my mind I now see that there was this little voice saying, well maybe you might die so don't bother to join the gym. It's ok to drink a bottle of wine and take percocet for minor pain because you just might be dead soon, anyway. Stuff like that.

So, now I have cancer after-thoughts. Of course, for the most part i still believe- and did so long before I got diagnosed just last thanksgiving- that you should live your life like there is tomorrow. But now I have a part of me that says, but just in case there isn't.......

So now I am even more seriously thinking about joining a gym, even though it is one I will have to drive to, but they are having a special, and they have swimming, and I think that is the best thing to get my left side as good as the right side and make my upcoming boob job easier. And in the meantime, I have started hiking. I can go hang around my sisters house, and her back yard- yes, this is the one with chickens- leads to this forest with cross country ski trails. We did a big hike there Saturday which completely justified the sugar cookies I had for breakfast. So I have decided I like hiking. Remind me to add it to my profile. It is just kind of like walking (which I like) in a pretty place (which I like) and it is a something you need to buy special shoes for (which I am all over.) And I feel much better after I exercise, especially since my nurse told me that joint pain and stiffness is a side effect of the aromatase inhibitor (tamoxifin for old people) that i am taking, and not instant old age. And then last night i volunteered to work in a haunted house as a fund raiser for my friend's kid's baseball team. I was a psycho in a bloody diner and I loved it. I became facebook friends with the two women who were the real actors who do this every year. it was wicked fun and a great outlet for my newly discovered talent of scaring people while being funny. A fake mouse was involved.

My other post cancer after-thought was that I need to pile up some money- no, not in case I get sick again, I know I won't, but so that i can go to Jamaica at the drop of a hat and I think I have gotten a second job. Only problem is that although it pays better than mclean, it is in the same system as Mcleans so they will have to try to keep me under 40 hours combination at both places...so maybe a third job? Definitely too lazy unless I could be a visiting nurse to the psych patients that live in my own building, present company excepted.

And finally i have found a cause that i can believe in. Right here on the computer, well not this blog I guess, maybe facebook, I see an ad for the single most impractical pair of shoes ever. Spike heel open toe boots in hot pink. No surprise everyone I have shown the ad to has said, barbara, those are so you! But the kicker- if you buy them, they donate money to breast cancer!!!!!!!!!! No need to do those stupid walks- although if they were hikes, I'd be there- just buy shoes and support breast cancer. Oh no pun intended when I said the kicker. Sometimes I think I am channelling my father or his best friend, Billy Murphy,whose anniversary mass I would have gone to except I forgot.

So clearly, this is my destiny- to organize a hike through a haunted house with all participants wearing open toe spike heel pink boots to benefit breast cancer. If that doesn't warrant a reality show, i don't know what does. Are you listening, Hollywood?

One love, one boob.....

OK, this should be quick as I am getting ready for work. Of course, if Theresa is on facebook how busy can it be???? So, I know a lot of women who have had masectomies opt to not have reconstructive surgeries. I respect and applaud them. They are very brave, secure, not swayed by adverisements, and clearly aware that inner beauty is what is important. I, however, am not. I pride myself on being vain, shallow and superficial. I have resigned to the fact that I cannot stop aging- unless I am dead, which is possible the only thing i would rather not be than old- but to be old and one-boobed, no that is not for me. I am sort of hoping that those physicists at that place in Switzerland, one of whom is my step-son (I don't think there is such a thing as an ex-stepson, even if he is your ex-husband's kid) start working on curing aging but why the fuck should they they are all in their 20's and 30's!

So anyway, I look forward to having big boobs. For myself, really, not anyone else. Also there is the very practical reason that a boob that is attached to your body firmly is not going to get lost unlike a fake one. And spaciness is right up there in my good qualities with vanity. I lose car keys, cell phones and appointment reminders with regularity. Why then is it a surprise that I have to add ten minutes into my getting ready to go out time to allow for the search for the fake boob. For a few scarey moments, i thought i left it at Denise's house when i house-sat. Well, I didn't and come to think of it it would not have been as embarassing as it seems originally. I know that because i did leave underwear there which Denise's husband returned to me in the middle of a huge dinner party. Luckily they were clean. it would have been embarassing to leave it at the house of someone who did not know I had a fake boob, though.

Which brings up the new concept of dating with one boob. OK, I have ascertained from mostly rational conversations and one slightly drunk phone call, that there are guys I have known for a while that will sleep with me, on a prn basis, while I am boob-challenged. So they don't count in this generalization. Someone, i think it was my massage therapist Ray said that if you find a guy who isn't bothered by sleeping with someone with a masectomy, then you have found a real keeper- again, someone who is not superficial, shallow and who is aware that inner beauty is what is important. But the thing is, i think I am more comfortable with the superficial shallow guys. Much like Groucho Marx not wanting to belong to a club that will have him as a member. i think that if I found a guy who wanted a relationship with my one boobed self, i would always be thinking, "shit, there must be something really wrong with this guy that he can't get a girlfriend with two boobs!" Does this make sense? Of course not. But you have to wonder- is it some kind of fettish or something? Now, let me be clear, I am not talking about the thousands (millions?) of masectomy-havers whose husbands and boyfriends stood by them. of course that is different. if you already know someone and they are somehow changed physically then no big deal. I am solely talking about myself and the potential pervert serial killers I anticipate will want to go out with me when i am between full sets.

Oh shit, now i have to go get ready for work and I didn't even allow time to look for my boob. great.

Purple

I can't stop writing on this just because i don't have cancer anymore, because I just found out that writing- and I suppose typing on a computer- is therapeutic. And here i thought i was just writing for the entertainment of my millions of followers from many different countries. OK, i only have 18 followers, but they seem to get around a lot. Besides I am still effected by cancer, as i await my new boob.

Sorry kids. Trying to make my blog more appropriate so that if my kids and their friends read it, they will not be horrified by me as they frequently are in person. it was pointed out to me that maybe i should stop talking about blow jobs. And you will notice that I have.

So now that i cannot bitch about my own personal cancer, I will have to find something else to rant about. i am really too stupid about politics. i guess i could become smarter about it, and I am not saying that I may not do so in the future, but right now it is not something I am interested in enough to learn enough about to not sound like an idiot writing things about it. Odd that I am suddenly concerned about sounding like an idiot when i never have before. Maybe it is a side effect od cancerlessness.

Actually it probably is. I think way back when i had cancer and was not the survivor i am now, I did sort of use it as a blanket excuse for stupidity, excessive drunkenness, bad hair, laziness, stupidity, and odd fashion choices. Now I am on my own again, although i do cut myself a little slack in the hair department, as I still don't have very much but have decided to focus on changing the color as often as I feel like it. Although people really seem to like red. Unless they are just saying so to be nice, but I think they have stopped doing that now that I no longer have cancer. Well they should anyway. Don't worry, Terri, my fashion mentor, i do plan to try purple at the appropriate time. Maybe February, as the birthstone is amethyst. Figures i get born in a month with cheap jewelry attached to it. As if people would have been buying me diamonds, emeralds and rubies had I been born in a better month. Well, i would lose them anyway.

OK, as i brilliantly try to think of something to write about next, I feel the urge to go out and karaoke, "I will survive."

Psychotic?....I mean psychic?

I will just say that hte dentist thing was not scarey and as far as I am concerned, successful, as my expectations are so low that I decided that as long as they did not say oh my god, your mouth is awful, we must pull all these teeth and replace them with old lady dentures, I would be happy. And so they did not and i am.

Went to see a medium, or psychic, or something the other night. Fortunately there was a buffet and drinks. She was actually quite good, unless she had about a hundred plants in the audience as she kept saying things that people said were true. She did not spend much time at our table, unfortunately. When she did, she said someone named Thomas was coming up. Nobody at the table knew a Thomas, but I remembered an old boyfriend, a pretty serious one at that, who had died. I thought it was odd that he would be trying to contact me, but then I remembered how the asshole never called or showed up when he said he would and it would be just like him to wait til he was dead. And then, as the psychic was leaving the table, she turned to me and said off-handedly, "Oh yeah, your mother says hi." I KNEW that that was my mother. Other people's mothers had communicated and given their kids advice, said they loved them, were proud of them, praying for them, etc. But oh yeah by the way tell barbara I said Hi. That'd be my mom.

Good thing i did not die because if anyone I knew went to one of those psychic things, I would monopolize the whole show. Drive the medium crazy and she would never get her own TV show, which she actually is going to get. Yet another person who is not me with their own reality show.

I am working on reinventing my post-cancerous self by actually buying groceries and baking dessert last night- apple crisp, delicious, and really thinking about joining the gym and vaguely committing myself to climbing a small mountain with my sister some time. Don't want to do too much change all at once. everything in moderation. Well actually, i usually do nothing in moderation, but i think maybe moderation in moderation is a good idea.

So my father is in the hospital in San Diego. Encephalitis, although my sister thinks he is getting better now. It just brought up the idea of caring for an aging parent- all right, i cared for him for years then shipped him off to California when he was really sick but come on, I had cancer! And then no house..... Anyway enough about poor me as we are now talking about my 86 year old father this close to a nursing home. Or not. Since my niece Emily died at 18, I sort of didn't make a big deal about people in their 80's dying. Like, so what? They had their life. But it is a little different when it's your father, who i was certain at one time would outlive us all when he was his vitamin-taking, basketball- playing annoying self. Well he still may. And if not, some day i will be at another medium show and she'll say, oh yeah, your parents say hi. I joke about it because he is probably going to be ok because i am far too classy to joke about life threatening illnesses. So anyway if anyone is inclined to pray or send positive thoughts- and if you did it for me, it certainly works- say one for Bill.

Do not read this it is disgusting.

Haven't written anything for a while because since I am non-cancerous now, what to write on a cancer blog? I guess I will have to read up on the politics and economics of health care, particularly cancer care, and then i can make fun of that. So now tha I'm a "survivor" I think I am going to get involved in volunteering in some way for some kind of cancer, although frankly I think there is enough hype for breast cancer- everyone i know went on that walk, getting money pledged to help breast cancer resarch. Not a single person took my suggestion to just skip the middle-man (middle-person?) and give the money directly to me.

But i would like to point out that now that I am a survivor, you would think I would somehow be stronger, or better, or something. However, i have to go to the dentist tomorrow and am scared shitless. Chemotherapy, radiation, surgery? That was one thing. This is someone poking around in my mouth. But I think I have no choice as going to a regular dentist is the first step in getting cosmetic dentistry so that when I get my boob replaced, i will have a great smile, which will add to my cougar-ness. Not having my own dentist, as it is something i have avoided for years, I chose a place called Gentle Dental in the hopes that it lives up to its name, that is gives you IV valium as you walk in the door. because filling out the paperwork can be stressful.

I hope these dentists don't think that since i had cancer i am brave and do not need hard core pain meds. I shall disabuse them of this notion immediately.

Well enough about my teeth - or actually this is just one tooth that made my face swell up like a chip munk. It was kind of funny, actually. Oh my god, this is what i am going to blog about now that I am cancer-free? My fucking teeth? I hate teeth. I am very sorry. i will never write about this again. When i first started working in a hospital in nursing school, other people complained about the bed pans, cleaning up incontinent patients, puke, poop, etc. Not a problem for me. Touching their dentures? Helping them with "oral care" Couldn't handle it. Teeth, gross.

October!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is what happens when you get to be my age. Me, at work, to 25-ish social worker: "Tell the doctor that if she wants any of these patients to be discharged, maybe she should start writing some fucking prescriptions." Social worker smiles, thinking how cute it is that this middle aged woman says fuck all the time. I really thought it would be a few more years before I would start shocking people but apparently not. So I think at age 70, I will become a "ho."

Soon I will write something profound but right now I think there is an episode of Bones on that I have not seen.

This is not about blow jobs

So they passed a law in Massachusetts that you can't text while driving. nLike, duh. Next they will probably pass a law saying no salsa dancing while driving. No practicing cartwheels while driving. No wearing blindfolds while driving. No knitting while driving. Aren't there a bunch of things you just know better than to do while driving?
Must everything be a law?

I am not the smartest, most law abiding person I know, But I don't text while driving. Not because its a law, just because it is too hard to do. Just wondering, does anyone actually know if there is an actual LAW that says no blow jobs to people driving? Just wondering, but I think it is safer than texting. So here is a good way to quit the texting while driving habit- just give a blow job instead. Also, this will encourage carpooling as well.

OK, cancer has gone and insanity has come in its place.

But what bothers me about the law is that there is another part that makes it illegal for teenagers to talk on their cell phones while driving. Really? Teenagers can't but I can????????? Lets face it, teenagers are the only people who can text/talk on cell phones automatically. They are the only ones who should be allowed to do it and drive. It most certainly should not be legal for me to talk on the phone and drive. I would crash. I almost crash every time I have to read the sign that flashes around saying it is illegal to text and drive. OK I get it. Not good to be distracted while driving. So maybe get rid of all the fucking distracting signs about how it is going to be illegal to be distracted while driving.

Wow, I sound like a cranky old lady. I must immediately go pick up two 25 year old guys and bring them back to Denise's house for a threesome so I will have something more interesting to write on my next blog.

OK I feel much better now that I have a goal.

new cancer free me

I have reinvented myself as someone who exercises on a treadmill and likes cats. Thanks a lot, Denise.

House sitting

Here is some good advice if you are ever a house-sitter. Either house-sit for people stupider than you, or bring your own books. If borders wasn
t down the street, I would be reading myself to sleep with Prosser on Torts. Actually, Denise and David have a book called "George Bush's Brain," AND IT IS NOT A COMEDY!!!!!!

Even better advice- of course I am the only one who would do it and it is a little funny. So here I am house-sitting a nice house where they have all sorts of dinner parties because they have the right kind of kitchen appliances. I convince myself (they also have a lot of wine here, too) that it was only for lack of appliances that I can't cook, so decide to have people over for a dinner party on Saturday to celebrate my cancer-free-ness. The plan was to look through the cook books, find something fancy, cook it and fees people. Worst case, it sucks, we have a million restaurants up the street. So I invite a million people (well maybe 10 and that's pushing it.) Also I invite people over after work on Friday for wine. There are cats here and I am a little allergic to them, so I take a few benadryl, which I forget makes me awake instead of asleep. I do not sleep til 8 am Saturday because my friend's daughter comes over and is on that sleep all day work all night schedule. So then I sleep through the entire time of the would-be dinner party. Most people call, get no answer and do not come. But my familiy members- Peggy my sister, Mark my black son and meghan and Chris actually come!! Sorry guys. Can't even use the cancer card. How about the insanity card. Whatever happened, though, I suspect it was better than having to eat my cooking. Until I re-invent myself as someone who can cook.

So please do not buy me cooking appliances for Christmas.

Poignant

Ok yeah I know its 4 am. I am babysitting cats. They keep you awake. And I had to share this serious side of me, as it is so unusual. I did- and will continue to do- this blog because humor is my way of dealing with things. Probably more so than most people. Also I thought- and still think- that poking fun of cancer might make other people dealimg with it laugh, or look at it differently. Not that I wrote this blog for other people- well, maybe a little, I would love to know that my sick humor helped one cancer patient a tiny bit- but it's for me, too. Writing, however badly, helped me cope way back in the old days when I had cancer, remember?

But cancer is not always or even usually funny. A good friend lost a friend to lung cancer recently. Not much older than me. I think it was lung cancer, anyway it was a sucky cancer and he died and I am sorry that my friend lost his friend. It sucks. And a good friend from work - really the nicest guy, and I am not saying this just because he had cancer because not just nice people get cancer- hey look at me-anyway he got bladder cancer and although he has a great attitude and is youngish and healthy, he really has to go through a lot more serious painful treatment than me. And of course there will always be Emily who I love like a daughter and who fought longer and harder than me, often having to put up with really annoying relatives- and cancer beat her before she turned 19.

Cancer sucks. My refusing to take it seriously does not change that. The disease sucks, the treatment sucks, the medications suck. Nobody knows what causes most of it- and even the easy ones, like smoking causes lung cancer- how many people chain smoke their lives away and die at age 104? I kind of think it's crap that "god works in mysterious ways" as an explanation why a mother barely clinging to sanity, loses her only child to leukemia. Or, God never gives us more than we can handle? Excuse me, God? I didn't handle this that well. Tons of wine were necessary. Oh and here is the best one, Everything happens for a reason. Well I can still convince myself that my cancer happenend so I could finally get big boobs- BUT WHAT THE FUCK IS THE REASON THE SWEETEST AND COOLEST 18 YEAR OLD GETS TAKEN FROM EVERYONE WHO LOVES HER?????????????? And kids die of cancer all the time.

So listen, God, smarten the fuck up. Yes, after losing people I love to cancer, I still believe in god- I just think he can be an asshole at times. Bad people should die. Good people should not. And since I am negotiating the deal, I should stay alive too, good or bad.

So what have we learned from this lesson? Absolutely nothing. Cancer follows no rules, doesn't think, oh this one has a great life ahead of her, I'll let her live. Cancer sucks a lot. Even more than the Yankees. So if you have a chance to fight it, do it. Do one of those dumb walks I make fun of. Get yourself into the national bone marrow registry ( could have saved Emily) volunteer for the cancer society or a hospice.

Breast cancer is supported enough. Pink fucking ribbons everywhere. But you know what needs support? Childhood cancer. If I had died (which there was never much of a chance of it anyway) I had lived a good life. Raised the two best kids ever, have wonderful friends and a pretty good family. Except Ryan. And a job I love. But Emily died without getting to go to college, fall in love, go to Egypt or Jamaica or even that fuckin weezer concert which is why I have a thing for weezer even though they have clearly sold out. Well, at least we'll always have Paris, Emily. I love you.

Moving on................................

So today I went to the oncologist. What did he have to say? You're done. Cancer free. No more chemo, just this thing to block estrogen. Apparently most people on it do not develop facial hair or penises, so I am good.

Now what am I going to use for an excuse for craziness? Oh, right, PTSD from having had cancer. And still have to wait 6 months for my (ahem) COSMETIC SURGERY!!!!! I am rather happy. I am kind of loving my life right now. So if I can beat cancer ( and yes, it was all me, nothing to do with medicine or anything) I can probably do anything.

This calls for a party. Luckily I am house-sitting my friend's very nice home. It is set up for cooking. I think I will try my hand at a dinner party. If I blow up the kitchen, we are right by legacy place which has many nice restaurants.

So far in my facebook poll of what hair color to do next, purple is winning. I have wierd friends.

selling out

well, when I signed up to have commercials on my blog, thinking that could be my next carreer, although really i do need to make more than four cents a month, anyway, they said they would put in ads that would go along with blog content. So how come I have a bunch of anorexia and bulemia ads? Granted, eating disorders are more interesting than cancer, but what next? oh, I know probably a bunch of ads for psychiatric clinics because i keep talking about how crazy i am, or detoxes as iperhaps have mentioned the occasional glass of wine I consume. Actually, some red wine company should smarten up and sponsor my blog, like belvidere vodka does for Chelsea lately. That would be a win-win situation. Oh and if you happen to be an executive in a wine company- and people in Northern California do read my blog, as well as people in india although not sure they produce a good vintage yet, anyway, i would like to make more than four cents a month. My lawyers can negotiate my contract when they get back from Italy, speaking of good wine.

As i was saying........

So if you want to use the cancer card to get out of a speeding ticket, you must immediately tell the Nazi state trooper that you have cancer and could die at any moment- before giving him license and registration. Otherwise, He just writes the ticket and it is too late. I even asked him if I had told you I had cancer before you wrote the ticket, would it have changed anything. He kind of stammered and all (must have been right out of Police Academy and not the funny one) but I knew he would not have given me a ticket had he known. So now I must fight it in court, which i will win regardless of cancer because there were no signs saying it was an HOV lane, nor were there any speed limit 35 signs. Driving in Boston sucks. I have just successfully negotiated my way around Manhattan, where they honk at you all the time, but Boston is totally different every time i go there. I am a native of this city and yet I ended up with $250.00 worth of tickets for somehow ending up in an HOV lane that went directly to Logan airport- and I was trying to go to the Boston harbor hotel where my friend, the one who makes me drink wine, has a law office. And why don't toll booths take credit cards? I am sure people accidentally end up at the airport all the time because of the stupid street signs and like who carries cash anymore, especially if you are not expecting to have to pay a toll just to get back to where you were supposed to be in the first place.

Well now this will be a short blog as i am quite tired from hanging around at work, eating chinese food and pretty much doing nothing.

What?

People never comment on my blog. I am sick of just reading my own writing. Back at work tonight, very low census, lots of spare time, hence my bloggage. Had a very fun weekend, saw Jo Koy, a Chelsea Lately comedian, on Friday and was forced by my friend Denise to consume a huge amount of wine yesterday. Had a few really good home-made meals thrown in and all in all a good time. Only had touse the cancer card once, when I accidentally went to the front of the line to get pictures taken with Jo Koy. Had to say, "I have cancer. I could die at any time, so I need to take the picture as soon as possible." Worked. They took 3 different pictures. I will post if I remember how.

Speaking of cancer card, here is some advice. If you have to use it to get out of a parking ticket, I will tell you next time how to do it because suddenly work is busy

Iceland? That's not near Poland, is it?

Went to my check up at radiation today. Really, my skin feels fine and I have come to the conclusion that i am not too ugly to have sex. Left boob still under construction, but I noticed that the rest of me is looking ok. Would post a picture but would probably get thrown off the internet and prosecuted for distributing "masectomy porn!" Oh, post a picture with my clothes on? What a novel idea.

So, I took a survey on what color to do my hair. Blonde won, hands down, although I am very impressed with my normally fairly conservative (when it comes to my fashion statements, anyway, not at all politically) daughter Meghan holding out for Bright Red. I will do that next month. So, never having used the "lite" hair dye that washes aout after a month, I was unfamiliar with this stuff that did not seem to burn, stink up the whole house, and have to be on your head for hours. Ten minutes, it said. Of course, i have no concept of time, but figured my newly grown, untouched by chemical (up until then) hair would probably need closer to 20. So I wash it out about 20 minutes later, which could be anywhere from three minutes to two hours, and, well, its a little lighter, but not the bright (think David Bowie way back when) blonde I wanted. It looks.....natural. Who the fuck dyes their hair for it to look natural. Well, i suppose a lot of people do but I am not one of them. But it is a little blonder, goes with my free make-up, so I will go with it for a while. This temporary hair dye- as long as the next color takes a little better, and I think it will because it is darker- is a great idea. i will have a different color hair every month. Bright red is next, right in time for fall, and Halloween- remember i work on a psych unit- that advertises in the New Yorker by the way- so anyway no purple or hot pink hair for me. At least when my boss is there. Just kidding, Joan, in the off chance that anyone was crazy enough to give you the blog address. By anyone, I mean me, but I don't think I did.

Then maybe dark brown or black for thanksgiving and Christmas, then white David Bowie blonde for the New Year. I heard a commercial about going to Iceland for new Years Eve and it seems like something I should do before I die. Speaking of which, my radiation doctor who I love, agreed with me that I am more likely to kick off from a smart-phone related accident than cancer at this point. But since there is always a chance of a piano falling on my head at any time, I am going to look into this Iceland at New Years. If anyone else is interested, especially if you are a man who I could conceivably have sex with, let me know. OK, I know most of my many international blog followers are female but at least two are men with whom I was close. I said that because I am too classy to say that at least two guys that i have slept with in the past have at least on occasion, read this blog. One I know for sure is not allowed into Iceland. Unless he has gotten a false passport. (I think he is out of jail....) Just kidding. I have wonderful taste in men now and hardly any of them are convicted felons. That i know of. Because now i can't have Cindy's son run a CORI on them anymore since the Bridget the Midget scandal.

I am not working tonight or tomorrow and am patiently waiting for someone to get my voicemail and call me back about going out. That is the thing about being my age. My friends are my age and they are wimps who go home early. And yes, Denise M, esq. and beverly A, R.N. I am talking about you! My kids go home earlier than me! I arrived in New York last Friday ready to rock and roll and Laura and roommate were asleep! Just because you have to get up for work at 5 in the morning is no excuse. A piano could fall on your head at any time, so always eat desert before the meal, and always go out and party with me when i demand it. By party, I mean have something to eat and two glasses of wine and then try to stay awake for the ride home.

It's almost seven. This means when i go out to dinner, the early bird old lady specials will be over. This is a good thing. Oh and ps, Denise, just because i called you a wimp does not mean I am not coming over tomorrow and showing you and David how to drink wine. Try to have some single men, who are not banned from Iceland, on hand.

Now what?

I know i mentioned it peripherally, but did not make a big deal out of it on my blog, I AM DONE WITH RADIATION!!!! Still there are follow up appointments and i will probably go there for a free reike treatment, but the radiation therapy is done!!! Boob area still a little sunburned but I can deal with that. Because of all the sunburns i had when i ignored them that they said going out in the sun can cause cancer. In fact, it makes cancer treatment easier to deal with so long as you don't get a sun- causing cancer, anyway. So actually, tanning helps cancer. Another myth de-bunked.

And know how they document my skin condition? Only those of you who are old-time nurses will appreciate it. Digital photos. In the old days, we would be documenting each shift on someone's skin. But my "reddened, raised, flat, whatever..." doesn't necessarily look the same as someone elses. And we had medical words, sangiunous, serro-sanguinous, I don't really remember, i went into psych. So i asked the radiation nurse if i could just take a picture of my boob with my new cell phone- it does everything else. That, mark my words, is the future of health care. Take a picture of your arm that is hanging off your body, email it to me..... instead of take a couple of tyleonl and call me in the morning. Aspirin is bad, I forget why. But of course in small doses is is now good. But I digress. Some of you might call it ramble. Or flight of ideas.

So, i get my skin checked at radiation tomorrow. I am glad because I really like the people there. They were the most pleasant part of cancer treatment so far. There are pros and cons of going to Boston to the big hospitals vs, local care. Obviously, I want the big surgeries and treatments at Mass General. Especially since Brockton hospital almost killed me. But I have always thought the local hospitals and health care places had nicer personell. Probably because i was usually one of the nurses is an out-of-Boston place. Like I love 99% of the people I work with at mclean, and probably only loved 65% of the people at childrens. And My boss at mclean, even with her little ideasynchrocies- I really think after a few glasses of wine, she would become me- will never be listed in my phone under a swear word.

So if you know anyone who needs radiation in the boston area, Shields radiation is quite good. They have offices in Quincy, mansfield (right next to the PGA tournament) and someplace up north. And My doctor has a kid at NYU so he probably needs the business. Really good combination of medical skills and just good friendly nice treating-you-like-a-human being patient care. You know, sort of like me. At least that part about a kid at NYU.

Oh and they are affiliated with mass general and harvard Medical school, although i don't hold that against them. And Val in mansfield is my favorite. We both shop at the Ann Taylor loft next door and frequently look like twins. Like me, she has short hair- hers is on purpose- and of course, we are both short and black.

So after radiation, then what? I suspect back to MGH for that oral chemo pill. I would think there should be some sort of test to see if you still have cancer or not. There must be. Otherwise, how can people say they are cancer free for 8 years? Or however many. I would really like to take a test, right now, to find out for sure if all the cancer is out of me. Everyone has decided it is, and i kind of agree, and while the trade-off is not being able to use the cancer card, except that I still do, it would be worth it.

So back to life, work, freqent visits to Brooklyn, Florida, and San Diego. Putting cancer on the back burner where it belongs. But I will still keep up this blog and share my cancer-induced wisdom. or Insanity.

I just lost something.......

Well, i know have 2 blogging skills. i added a picture, and i posted a blog i wrote last week. However I just wrote some long thing and totally lost it. My main concern was that I had learned that my smarter than me phone gets tv shows on it. The latest generation will not just have to deal with old ladies driving 40 mph in the fast lane, but rather old ladies swerving all over the road as they try to follow their soaps on their phones.

So anyway I have decided to never use my my phone, not even answer calls, when driving. Because i really don't want to go through all of this cancer stuff just to end it by accidentally driving off a cliff while trying to get Law and Order SUV on the phone.

But the posted picture is one of the views from laura's apartment. i am down with this whole Brooklyn living. Easier to get to, on street parking, fewer anorexics and bulemics. Brooklyn is the new mnhattan, Williamsburg (where Laura lives) is nicknamed WillieB and is the New Greenwich Village, and green is the new pink. Oh and i am the new princess Di (before she Died, get it.) (not to be insensitive.) (Or more so than usual.)

developing yet another skill

Well we will see if I can develop a new skill. I am at laura's in Brooklyn, not quite ready tp pass put, having slept the better part of the last 24 hours before heading up here. She has no internet access, or it doesn't work for me, so Here I go, trying to write something for my blog and then post it later. Since it is after midnight, it is 9-11, although that is not why I am in New York. Moving in was not much fun, so this weekend we will try to have fun. First of all, I made it here without GPS- yes that piece of technology I had never visualized a year agao, and which I hate, and which I really only know how to put funny/unintelligible accents on- yeah, good job, made it to brooklyn the old fashioned way. Sheer luck, and taking a left at the Hassidic Jew.

As usual when driving to new York, I again question the use of Connecticut. I am against it. If they have to put in a state to drive through on the way from Boston to New York, some place like New mexico or Alaska would be more fun. Or they could just stretch out Rhode Island, which I think they are secretly doing anyway. Come on, Rhode Island? Smallest state in the country? There are malls bigger than it? When was the last time you drove through it, it takes forever. Conspiracy theory, or fact? Plus, look at the names of the last few exits in that state. They seem to be taking themselves Awfully seriously for a state that was just started as a joke. They, in fact, sound a little bit like......Connecticut!!!!! Remember you heard it here first.

Ok now I will try sleep. Don't want to invest too much in literature that I may be too stupid to transfer on to the blog.

Bar card- not for bars, though

So now I am work after conning my friend Theresa into working a double for me last night. New York was exhausting, mainly because of the fifth floor walk up, and also because unfortunately the landlord was a total asshole. Didn't let them move in til the third then gave them the wrong keys so we couldn't get in. Then she had the gall to be mad at me when I called her at 1 a.m. to have her drive over and let us in. She did not, but had another tenant go down the fire escape and let us in. Instead of using the cancer card, I used the lawyer card instead. Now Laura and her roommate are considering law school. Wow, should have used the cancerous lawyer card. She would probably be getting free rent or something.

Her apartment is very cute, the area is quite nice. However, her roommates mother is crazy and does not want her living in Brooklyn (a 10 minute subway ride to NYU.) Of course, crazy mom has already paid the her daughter's rent for the year in advance. SO who knows? As are all of Laura's school friends, her roommate is very very sweet and also very rich, so maybe she will get a studio in Manhattan as well as keeping the apartment in Brooklyn. I felt bad that I could not do as much moving stuff, but lets face it, I would not exactly have been sprinting up five flights of stairs before cancer, anyway. I may go back next week and help buy furniture. Can't really do used stuff in NY because of bedbugs, plus who is going to lug a couch up to the fifth floor anyway?

So nice to have something to write about besides cancer. Only two more days of radiation after the long weekend!!!!

No sleep til Brooklyn?

Very tired. Helped laura move into her fifth floor walk up apartment. Actually it is quite cute once you get up the stairs and has a great view of Manhattan in a very student-y area. And nice neighbors who were very polite about my crashing onto their cars with the humungous van I was trying to park. A barely five foot girl and her radiation-ridden mother (The cancer card only comes out for things like lugging beds up five flights of stairs!) moving in at midnight when the keys don't work. Long story involvong irate phone calls, fire escapes and boys willing to help out in the middle of the night and it all worked out. More stories about clueless landlords and crazy grandmothers to come, after i make sure exactly who, if any, of Laura's acquaintances read this blog.

Yankees suck

This is very sad to say but the Red Sox may not make the playoffs this year. It is particularly upsetting for me, as i don't know a whole lot about sports ( like what the fuck is a penalty for "holding" "offside") but I know baseball. And I have a friend who can get free tickets. So if the red sox just fade off into the sunset this year- and who can blame them with all those injuries, must be bad karma, but Jon Lester is a cancer survivor, that should negate the bad karma- well, whatever, i guess i will just have to root for my other favorite team, Whoever plays the with yankees. Is it John or Jon? Who knows or cares.

I suppose it should be enough that in my lifetime the Red Sox won the World Series twice. I was at one of those games. However, I would like the future to report that the Red Sox won the World Series 5-6 times in my life, preferably with me as their team psych nurse. Or whatever i become later in life.

I have more to say but however am too tired. This is unfortunate, because with my memory, I will probably forget it by tomorrow when I am more awake. Well, just pretend I said something profound and it all rhymed. XXXXXXX

random thoughts as I slip off to sleep.

I am now the expert at downloading apps that I knew I would be. I downloaded some reference for psychiatric disorders and found out that there is a name for doing poorly at math. Not dumb. A medical term, although it is not really a psych diagnosis but a kearning disability.

So I expect that since I have a cool new phone, more people will call me. There is no basis in reality for this belief, but nonetheless I did believe it. But I get the same number of phone calls I did before.

At work tonight, I noticed that there seem to be a number of patients who first had cancer, then developed a psych issue. Maybe it was always this way but I never noticed it before. So, does cancer cause mental illness, or are crazy people more likely to get cancer? I think the answer to both of those is no, and when i say crazy, I mean a much more politically correct medical term.

I am almost done with radiation. I get to take a day off this week to bring Laura back to school. Obviously my radiation doctor is fine with this as he, too, will be bringing his kid back to NYU on the same day. This year, Laura has an apartment with a roommate, rather than living in the dorms and I am quite excited to see it. My baby has her own apartment!!!! How poignant! But even more important, I now have a free place to stay in NYC.

Good weekend, tired, just got out of work. Stayed in NH last night and went to see "The girl who played with fire" swedish subtitles and all at the cutest movie theatre in the world. Tickets cost $5.00 per person, drinks were a dollar and you sit in this little room in what seems to be a converted schoolhouse or fire station. A nice perk of small town living. A less than nice one would have been the chickent that flew up on the table as we were having dinner. OK, we were eating chicken, probably this guy's cousin, but that is no reason for that behavior. Plus I don't think chickens are smart enough to know that we were consuming Uncle Joe or whoever. They are just mean and wanted to ruin our dinner. Chickens suck.

Back to school, almost September.....this is the time of year you hear that song "the boys of summer" all the time- by the eagles or the atari's depending on what radio station you listen to. I am never ready to say goodbye to summer, but this means I will be done with radiation and one step closer to being a healthy cancer-free chick with a nice set of knockers.

You know, my life is going pretty well if I do say so myself.

playing chicken

This is so.funny. I am writing this on my phone because I downloaded an app! I guess it does not stand for appetizers. So. Neccesarily this will be short because this keyboard is about the right size for a bařbie doll. And it randomly makes foreign letters. I am at my sisters house in new hampshire. Here is a quote from her. "Laura, watch that front door so the chickens don't go into the house." Although normal in many ways, Peggy has chickens living in her yard.

APP-RICOTS?

Tonight, hanging around with my daughter, Laura, we decided that having faced a crisis like getting diagnosed with cancer, my attitude sort of changed for the better. Like I don't worry about stupid stuff any more. Apparently at some point in my life i worried about money and my job(s) and what people would think of me. Not so much anymore. Although, frankly, I wouldn't have minded if i learned this new view of life from one of those self-help books and didn't really have to get cancer, but as those irritating people say, it is what it is.

So yeah, now i know what is important in life. And fortunately i was able to indulge in one of those important activities tonight- something i haven't done enough of lately- Drunk Shopping. Well, that is what I used to call it when I was younger and wilder, now it is really more like have two glasses of wine and then shop. Just pick a nice shopping area with a good restaurant and voila! Laura and I headed out to South SHore Plaza which now has a fancy addition for rich people which we did not go to, as this was drunk shopping, not drunk shoplifting. Since there is now one thing on the menu that Laura eats there, she agreed to go to Legal Seafoods, which I really like even though it is a chain and even though there is something politically incorrect about it that Denise told me about, but i conveniently forgot. It wasn't violating child labor laws, I know that. So we had a very nice dinner, I had some nice wine- not robust, though. I draw the line there- and got some good hairdressing tips from the spikey haired waiter who was very charming and then set out to buy stuff.

Luckily there was not a car dealers at this particular mall, but there was a cell phone store. A real one. I realized a while ago that the most committed relationship in my life right now is with Sprint. Every time I turn around, i am locked into another two year contract with them. I have been with Sprint significantly longer than I was married. Well, think about it, if youu got charged a $300.00 termination fee every time you broke up with a guy, you'd think twice, right? So anyway, I have had cell phone envy for a long time, but I was just against the constant upgrading of these electronic toys as a matter of principle. Principles that evaporated after a few glasses of wine that is.

When I upgraded to my last cell phone, it was a big deal to have a phone that took pictures. Also, that phone was pink and now, sorry to say this but i am really getting sick of pink, the official color of breast cancer. So I walked into that phone store and said upgrade me to the best phone you have. (under $100.00, after rebate) OK, the clerk said, what will you be using this phone for? Puzzled, i said, oh, to call people. But I needed more. I really wanted to be able to have a full keyboard swo that when I texted, every word would be properly spelled out, kind of like when I type in this blog. And then she asked, did i want to download apps? At this Laura looked at me skeptically so I immediately knew that she questioned my app-downloading ability and decided to prove her wrong. "Oh yes," I said. I plan to download a ton of apps. Great, she said, and recommended a phone that kind of looks like an i-phone, but not really. But it is black. And I can go online, download music, use it as a sort of GPS, my most hated modern convenience, and of course download apps.

Instantly, all my contacts and pictures were magically moved on to the new phone. I had a lot of names in there. Oddly, i have no idea who half of them are. Like under Jack, i have, Jack, Jack-other one, Jackie, Jacky, Jackie mom, Jackie work, and Jackie tattoo. And i still have my old bosses old number listed under that very vulgar C word. Not cancer, the other one. And my ex-husband's work number listed under Dr. Evil. Well, at least I know who they are. So I guess I had that phone for a number of years during which I managed to become casually aquainted with a large number of Jackies. And Daves! Dave dave, Dave boat and Dave car, to mention only a few. I am going on about this because mainly the only thing I can do with the phone is look at my contact list. The girl explained things to me, but even at my best I have the attention span of a dog on crack. And Laura graciously excused herself to go try on clothes at H and M so that I would still be buzzed when it came time to pay for them.

I am eager to start downloading apps, but unfortunately I don't know what the fuck they are. APPS. Must stand for something. Apples? Applications? Apprentices? Well laura has promised to explain all to me tomorrow. In the meantime, i will try to figure out how to turn on the ringer. it is permanently muted. But this phone will just have normal ring tones. Guess the rock and roll lyric rings are a kind of last year, or maybe decade. I am way too cool for them anymore. Although it was always good for a laugh at work when suddenly "Psycho killer, qu'est-ce c'est" would blast out of the nurses station of the psych unit. (a special ringer only for crazy people who called me.)

Soon I shall be so high tech that I will not be able to stand myself. Or not. All my friends my age have these fancy phones but they can never figure out how to do anything with them. But I am motivated. I have a long term goal now. I am going to download the shit out of a bunch of apps, and I am going to like it. people will be saying, Oh you want to download apps? Ask barbara about it. She is the expert on all that stuff. World famous blogger and now app downloader. Who said you can't teach an old dog new tricks? Not that I consider myself a dog. My new hair is quite chic and complimented frequently by psych patients and gay men.

Relatives and relativity

Well, it's been a while since i wrote anything. Not writer's block, of course, but could it be possible that cancer just wasn't very funny this week? And i came to a daunting conclusion. A revelation, if you will. Cindy spent the week at the hospital with her daughter who fell on glass, got a terrible infection and needed surgery and mega-antibiotics. And Beverly is recovering from surgery all summer. And a nurse at work (a guy) is going to be out all summer because he has bladder cancer and has to get a whole new bladder made out of someother body parts, and something about they have to fill his body with TB bacteria, so his body will think he has tb. OMG, its not all about me!!!!!!!!!! Can that be true? People i am close to are going through way worse pain and inconvenience than me. Radiation IS a walk in the park for me, just have a sunburned un-boob, but I can see from the other patients at Radiation that it is not a walk in the park for everyone. A lot of the people are way sicker, just getting the radiation to prolong life, or make them more comfortable. So once again, I realize how lucky I am, although I never thought that this is something i would say having been diagnosed with breast cancer.

Of course I am less lucky than people without cancer, so if you were considering sending me an expensive gift or cash, do not change your mind because of what I said.

How many cockroaches does it take to turn a light bulb?

Today at work joking with a friend, she said something like, "I can't wear my jacket (that I had Borrowed) now because it has cancer on it." A lot of the people i work with have senses of humor similar to (although not Quite as sick as) mine. I can see that we may have conversations on a regular basis that would upset or even horrify other people who don't know us. Erin makes fun of me because I had cancer and am still talking about it, I make fun of her because she is deaf (well she has a hearing loss in one ear, but whatever.) Also i am quite bad about making fun of another co-worker and friend who was so excited about her new grandchild. She was showing pictures to everyone and they were saying typical baby things, and I saaid, "Maria, that is kind of an ugly baby. You should try to pick up some overtime and start saving for plastic surgery. In reality, the three of us love each other and the baby is kind of cute. Maria is a former oncology nurse with a very sharp, sarcastic (in the good way) wit. She totally understands the concept of cancer jokes. And deaf jokes, too, I guess.

So Erin came up to me later and asked if it had bothered me that she calls me Cancer lady and makes jokes about it. Since i had just explained at length to everyone in the room that Erin was actually mentally retarded as well as deaf, it surprised me that she was wondering if SHE had offended ME. But someone else that I knew a little less well had said hey those cancer jokes might hurt her feelings. And though I was surprised, it does seem that a reasonable person could assume that someone would not enjoy being called cancerous, or retarded, etc. And somebody recently posted on my blog that she did not think cancer was funny, just that it sucked.

Of course, cancer is not funny. Of course, it sucks. I do not enjoy it. I would rather not have it, or rather not have had it if I don't have it anymore and am just being treated for it. But I can't ignore it. It does not ignore me. So I make fun of it. Because then i can take it less seriously and then I can deal with it. Turning cancer into a joke, and my experience with it into a funny (in a sick way) blog is one of my new COPING SKILLS! Yes, that it what it is. And you know what? It works. Pretty much, cancer is going to do whatever it's going to to do to me- or not do- regardless of whether I make jokes about it or I get offended by people making jokes about it. Sometimes, people treat me with kid gloves and really watch what they say around me. The other day, Laura wanted to get a haircut but before she mentioned it to me, she said "Will it bother you if I talk about hair?" How cute? Of course this is the same kid who, along with her sister, decided about three months ago that since there was no cancer left in my body after all the surgeries and chemo, I did not have cancer and was no longer allowed to be playing the cancer card. Well, with them at least. They don't have the power for me to not be able to use it with other people. But I use that cancer card less and less. I go to work and take care of patients, rather than being the patient someone else takes care of. New people I meet talk about my cool haircut- like in any scenario, I would have the balls to cut my hair to 1/2 inch all around- and the lst thing they would think of was that the "haircut" is really a hair-grow from a bald chemo head. I don't feel like i have cancer anymore. I feel happy, healthy, young active and really lucky to have what I have. Also I feel really really tired all of a sudden. It was a long day at work. Sometimes I am grateful that the "illness" I had was in my body not my mind. People understand that so much better. That will be a topic for later.

CAKE!!!

Friday when I went to radiation, the waiting room was full of trash magazines. That is all I have to report, as I am now going to help Cindy cook. If you hear of massive food poisonings in Southeastern Massachusetts, that would be me.

trend setter

Today at radiation, i was actually a minute early and had to spend time in the waiting room. The only magazines were like Time and Newsweek and Vogue. I immediately complained to the big shots there. When you are waiting for radiation, you do not want to read serious stuff about the economy. You want to read about Kim Kardashial's butt or the latest celebrity busted for drunk driving. So I demanded more trash magazines and you know what they said? You are absolutely right. I was assured that the room will be stocked with star, People, and whatever else there is. Suddenly it became clear to me what my new profession should be. I shall become a "cancer consultant." I will go around telling people how to treat patients with cancer, and make them pay me for it. Come on, it is no stupider than being a life coach. Also, it combines a lot of my skills- medical training, legal training and my biggest asset- the ability to shoot my mouth off about any subject at any time, regardless of whether I know what I am talking about. (It's a gift.....and a curse.) So in practice for my new carreer, i will from time to time post helpful information on this blog. The trash magazine is all you are getting tonight as I haven't thought of anything else.

Two good things I learned today: 1. My nails are pretty much chemo-free, and I can now get a french manicure. 2. and this is exciting. I heard a commercial for a new show on showtime called the big C. It is about cancer and from the bit I heard, where the woman is in a restaurant saying, "I just want the desserts and the alcohol," I am assuming it is a funny show about cancer. Funny cancer shows. Hopefully they will be the next big thing surpassing those STUPID vampire shows. So here I am, right on top of the latest trend. Funny blog about cancer, funny TV show about cancer.....I can see that it is only a matter of time before i attain my dream of my own reality show. As long as it doesn't really reflect the reality of my life, because really I am amusing for about 30 minutes a day and the other 23 1/2 hours are pretty damn boring. But I imagine all reality shows are fake, so I would be fine with a fake reality show. I wonder how much it would pay? I would, of course, only be interested in it for the art, but it's been a really long time since a pair of Manolo Blahniks have crossed my path.

Don't worry, i will remember all the little people when I am rich and famous.

what?

Iam falling asleep soon. Tomorrow is an early day because I have reiki and on top of that, i now have to get up a half hour earlier than before to put on all that free make-up and get it right. I was going to start to transition to putting it on in the car but I only have two hands and what with talking on the phone and drinking coffee it is going to be hard to add a new task. Wish I was rich enough to have a chauffeur.

I am in an unbelievably good mood, love my job, my kids and my life. I think in a tiny way, having cancer makes me appreciate things more. Oh, did i say that before? The part of my brain that is so full of appreciating things apparently is sort of leaking out some memory. It's a fair trade.

Good night.

napping for fun and profit

The other day when I ws shopping with Laura instead of going to work, we ran around doing all sorts of things and then were both sort of tired around four in the afternoon. She was saying that in Italy, where he had just been with the rich side of her parethood, this was siesta time and everything closed and everyone took a nap. Wait a minute, isn't siesta a Spanish word? maybe she meant spain or maybe they called it something else or maybe the spanish and italian word are the same, that happens sometimes like with si or gracias. Anyway, why can't we adopt this custom? Americans are such type A assholes ( every single one of them, except me and my friends and readers of this blog, so as not to think I would generalize.) they would be afraid that they would miss a good stock trade, or lose business or miss General Hospital on TV if they napped. But however, they would probably be healthier happier and not as fat. And many republicans would convert to the other side. There are probably scientific studies that show that. I am just kind of pissed that it took me having to get cancer to realize what a great concept this is. Like in nursery school, they would always have nap time. Why did they not continue this idea through high school? Probably would have cut down on juvenile delinquency (is there even such a thing any more? In this state, a kid does something bad, they just try them as an adult, ah but that is the subject of another rant.) also and less drug use by kids. Probably they start using drugs because they are tired!

Simplistic, I know, but some of the greatest ideas are. I have often suggested to my bosses, when talking about new groups to do for psych patients, a napping group. I am sure that has nothing to do with my being encouraged to leave a couple of those jobs. Although I have had unenlightened bosses, that is for sure.

Now that I think of it, that is sort of what meditation is, a short nap in the middle of the day. I would just like to have it be a little longer. So here is an idea. Lets all go into work tomorrow and suggest an afternoon nap for all employees. I will see you guys later at the unemployment office. Unless you work for yourself, like Denise's husband.

wrong

shit it did not work. The new posts are supposed to be on top of the rock and roll chicks picture. By the way I am much better looking in person.

testing......

I am trying to arrange the blog so that the Steven Tyler and Aerosmith pictures just go with the thing I am writing about them, but do not stay on the blog on the first page forever. I am not sure how to do it, so if I do it wrong, and anyone out there knows how to do it right, please let me know.

Not much to say today. I am still experimenting with my free make-up. I never quite got the hang of lipstick, but apparently it is important in looking beautiful so I am practicing. Someone at work said you could tell a person's personality by how they wear their lipstick. Probably one of those Cosmo articles. I think it pertains just to women because it would be easy to tell a guy's personalith from his lipstick. It would mean he was a transvestite. I am afraid that if anyone tried to figure out my personality from how I wear lipstick, I would come out retarded.

But I keep practicing. I should probably get my fashionable, stylish and beautiful friend from High School, Terri Ross, to help me with my attempt at glamor. Although I believe she is currently recovering from injuries she incurred saving a baby from a burning building. So I shall wait, at least until she is off the painkillers, as they might make her likely to paint my hair green.

defensive PS

I went to Girls latin School. I have a doctorate degree. I am smart. All those misspellings on my blog that I just cannot be bothered fixing are the fault of my computer. Oh, and the bad grammar as well, Ms grammar police- unless I am taking poetic license.

hair cures depression

Ok, here is a cute story involving cancer. Those of you who described my blog as poignant- you know who you are, Denise Murphy, will appreciate it. I finally mad it to one of thos look better feel better or whatever they are called groups. Actually I think I already look and feel better but free make-up was involved, so I went. Pretty good free make-up, too. So anyway, I was sitting next to an old lady, whose name was not barbara, however three other women by that name were in the (relatively small) class. Apparently, being named Barbara causes cancer. Anyway this non-Barbara woman was sort of depressed, and although I rarely make such observations, pretty funny looking. We talked because we both had newly-grown post-chemo hair, but she hated hers and wore an extremely unbecoming hat. She had donechemo around the same time as me but had some kind of cancer "down there" that she didn't really specify but she was still in pain from her surgery. When they were demonstrating make-up tips and scarves and wigs, she kept saying stuff like, "Oh, I would never wear that much make-up," "I never go anywhere where it matters how I look." I don't go out in public much because I don't have any hair." etc. You get the idea. Pretty miserable. Being full of positive energy myself, I did not say, well why the fuck are you here? Instead, I said stupid little positive things like, you have nice skin, maybe when you get all made up you will want to go out, your hair is growing in very nicely (that was sort of a partial lie but it was for a good cause.) She was minimally responsive.

So, at the end of the class the beauty people who ran it said, there are some free scarves and wigs if you want to try some on. Since I am already at one with nature with my minimalist hair-do- which is going to look even better with $400.00 worth of free make-up on my face, i did not take advantage of those particular freebies, maybe in part because I already have 6 wigs of variious colors hung on hooks in my closet. BUT......suddenly I looked up and saw an attractive middle aged woman with short brown hair smiling at her friend. I didn't recognize her at first until I realized it was Miss Misery with a free wig on. She was totally transformed! She even walked more upright instead of hunched over like a sick person. It was absolutely amazing. Somehow, she also looked about three sizes smaller and twenty years younger, because i guess when you carry yourself in a slouched over depressed way, you look, well, kind of dumpy, old and fat. But I feel like i witnessed a real miracle. Which of course proves my point that as long as you look pretty, nothing else matters. So having witnessed such a beautiful thing, my spirits were only slighly dampened when I turned on my phone and checked my voicemail to hear several messages saying, "Barbara, you are on the schedule for the 3-11 shift today, where are you?" OOPS! In my own defense, I make a copy of every month's schedule to keep with me because I know I am so spacey- I mean I have so much knowledge in my head sometimes things like when I am supposed to work slip out. Apparently I must have agreed to work a shift for someone else and forgot. Well they survived without my even having to use the cancer card hardly at all.

Also, Laura is back from Europe and she went to radiation with me and we hung out all afternoon, shopping for books and can you believe Ann Taylor Loft still had some of its sale items and I bought yet another couple of pairs of jeans for $4.88. My radiation buddies will be so impressed. Radiation, which I am more than half-way through with no problems. Wow, life is really good!

Dream on....

I am so tired so this will be short. But I had to write about the J. Geils and Aerosmith concert tonight. Awesome. We had great seats and both bands were fantastic. I know I saw both of them like 30-35 years ago and they still sound the way they did then. And to see these 60-plus guys dancing around the stage and looking quite sexy if I do say so myself, was an inspiration to me. Clearly, old is the new young. I am exhausted because i stood up the whole time and sang and danced along with the bands. For the second half of the show, two clinically depressed guys were next to me, standing up with their arms folded, never clapping or smiling or anything. I think they may have been spies. And they were crowding my space, so of course I had to sing louder and dance around much more than I would have normally if I was not trying to annoy them.

I had such a good time. I felt like I was 20 again. I sang, danced, flirted, laughed and generally had a wonderful time with my two best friends and a new friend i just met tonight. Cindy found an old Aerosmith T shirt, so I wore that and my very fashionable ripped jeans, put some hair gel in my 1/2 inch spiked hair and if I do say so myself, looked quite like a rock and roller. If only Steven Tyler had asked meup to his hotel room after the concert, it would have been a perfect night! WellI had to save something for the next time.

You haven't lived until you've been at fenway park when it is filled with 40 and 50-somethings reliving their youth. And for their encore, they sang "Dream On," a hit from when I was in high school, I think- from the top of the green monster. Yeah, someone had moved a piano up there.

As the cat in the hat said, it is fun to have fun, but you have to know how. Oh and ps. When we got to the concert, I was so excited I took a picture of the stage and sent it to every friend in my phone. So if you got a picture that looked like- what? I don't know, a big blur? I have a shitty cell phone- anyway, that was me.

Good night.

Brazillian waxing philosophically

I have heard of people who survived cancer say that if they could go back in time and choose what would happen they would still have had cancer. Perhaps the people samples were on extremely heavy doses of drugs. I don't think I am one of those people. If I had a choice, I would have the easiest life possible- with servants, whom i would be very nice to. OOps, I mean to whom i would be very nice. I forgot Terri Ross reads my blog.

But I can see a tiny bit of their rationalization. Having cancer, even very curable stuff like me, changes things. Granted, I could get run over by a truck at any time but you don't have that in the back of your mind generally when you are perfectly healthy. When you are being treated for cancer (cause that's what i am, I no longer have it, I am being treated for it.) you are always in places - hospitals, radiation clinic, support groups (I imagine) where you are surrounded by a bunch of people with your illness and you know some of them ARE going to die. So you appreciate things in life that you may have taken for granted. When I took a lower- paying job, with fewer hours at a hospital close by, I immediately picked up a second job, further away, to use up all my excess time and make more money. I quit that job when i got diagnosed. Now I enjoy the extra day or two off, the fact that I don't have a horendous commute in Boston rush hour traffic, and that I work with people I really love. Downsizing the house makes it very easy to live on less money. And knowing that I had been diagnosed with something that can be fatal (to other people) I really think about what i want to do in life, what is important and what is not. My kids and my friends are important. As yet another old lady on facebook, I now keep in touch with people from high school (the ones who haven't died of old age yet, anyway) and other friends i haven't seen in a long time.

And of course there is Emily,my niece who died at 18 from leukemia. Before she got diagnosed- about a year or two before, actually, I sold my house in Sharon. This was when real estate was doing a little better than now. ANyway, I made a ton of money, some of which went to the house i am getting rid of (again, how great that I didn't put all of the money into it, as I would still be in the processof a short sale.) Anyway, i spent some of the money on a cottage at the beach for the summer to live in in between houses- renting one, I did not make that much money! And I took My daughter, Laura, My niece Emily, my friend Cindy and myself off on a European vacation. We called it, the shallow girl's tour of Europe. We did not go to a single museum, we had Eurrail passes which we sometimes used but were generally not smart enough or fluent in the language to figure out the train schedules, so half the time we rented a car. In our defense, let me say that that year there was a tremendous heat wave in Europe while we were there. Well at least in the parts we were in, so pretty much we went places with beaches- the french and italian riviera and barcelona and of course, shopping- paris and London. We managed to find the equivalent of TJ Maxx in all fancy foreign countries, we went for quality not quantity, there were no $5000. gucci bags for us. When Emily turned 16, we were in Paris. We went down to the hotel lobby for breakfast and toasted her birthday with mimosas and chocolate croissants. She and i will always share this memory, I mean how cool is that, celebrating your 16th birthday in Paris! I think my own kids had birthday cake from Shaws at home. And of course noone knew then that Emily would get sick and eventually die. I am just so thankful that that one time, I was smart (people may question the use of that word, but look how it turned out!) enough to not put every cent away into some sort of investment and use some for fun with people I love. I love meghan too and if you are reading this, for the thousandth time, we wanted you to go, would have worked around your work schedule, but that was the year you did not like me. well not a full year, but you were in that stage when you would rather be in sweaty connecticut with smelly horses than in Europe with me. I believe I have taken you on other vacations have I not?

Now what was my point? Oh right, having fun, being with people you care about, living in the moment with a little less worrying about what may or may not happen in the distant future. And going sky-diving. And riding on a motorcycle- as the passenger, not the driver, I may be crazy but not insane. And i want to go to Africa, maybe even as a nurse in one of those places they need nurses. Yeah, I know, Africa is a huge continent with thousands of different places, some that i should not go near, some that i should, etc. I will get a map and look at it before I plan an African trip. I may even google stuff.

And appreciate the small stuff. Like i am going to appreciate the hell out of my new C-cup boob when I get the reconstructive surgery. I now appreciate the little one I had before surgery. So all you girls out there, appreciate your boobs. And your hair. You will miss them when they are gone, however temporary it is. ANd stop saving your money for retirement and take your friends on trips instead. I always keep my passport in my pocketbook in case someone says, hey let's fly to Rome tonight. When you retire, you're going to be REALLY OLD,so you can probably just sit back in your trailer park and think you're in Rome.

OK, now I need to get going and focus on the truly important things in life, like getting a manicure and a pedicure. It is much more important to look good than have money in the bank. And by the way, I have not eaten a chocolate croissant since Emily died because it is just not the same.