And now, Little Miss Sunshine

If I sit here long enough, I know that everything is going to be okay. It always is. And when I'm still enough to listen to the part of me that knows that, I can kinda glimpse me in the future, already through all of this, already okay.

Just seems like this week, all those things I use to help me get to that little place: boxing, dancing, playing guitar, drawing, sleeping, reading- I was either too busy to get to do them, or by the time I got to them it was just too late. Or maybe it wasn't too late, but things kept getting in the way. Conversation. Thoughts that didn't need to be there. Seems like even in those activities that get me away from every thing for a while, my restless mind won't let me be free. Not even for 45 minutes. That's not true, actually. I mean, I get away, I find the quiet spot. But it is just so much harder to get there, and even harder to stay there.
So I'm daydreaming now of vacation. Someplace warm and sunny. I turn off my phone, not read my email, not be constantly reminded of work and the TAKS test and stress and everything else. I go someplace where no one knows me and no one will try to make me talk about it. I'm somewhere alone where I can just sit in silence for 14 days. That would be heaven.
Even if this daydream is only 5 minutes, it, plus LOL cats and a delicious Hostess cupcake are getting me through today.

And probably tomorrow.

-MM

A clear conscious is just the sign of a bad memory.

Thank you, JayBee, for the sweet reminder to update.

I've been a bit thoughtful today and lately, thinking of work and if I want to keep the job I have, thinking about being blessed and about mere survival and about the past. And I have been thinking of the words of a very dear friend of mine (who is also a cancer survivor) that once said that melanoma is a scary thing but that we can find hope where dreams remain and where cancer cannot go.

And that's kinda what these last few weeks have been about- about looking around and seeing myself again, that inner resolve that I thought I'd never lose that just went into hiding for a bit, I guess. And the part of me that loved and allowed love in. I guess I thought I'd lost it, that the bitterness had completely replaced it. But it too just needed dusting off. About being open and vulnerable even in the midst of being scared to death that your vulnerability will come back to bite you. About the people that were there when I was so distant, knowing even then that all they wanted to do was help.

I've been reminded this week of who I really am and how I had lost some of myself with every diagnosis and treatment, and in the year of recovery after. Before that diagnosis in May of 2005, I would've said that there was nothing that could make me forget or compromise who I was. But knowing what I know now, I would say that illness can deplete you so that it is nearly impossible to not lose that. Would it be different if I had a recurrence now? God, I hope so. I hope that I have learned enough to know what to hold onto now and what the important things are. Even if not, I have learned the beauty of stillness and what it means to me. That I don't have to be afraid of it or be afraid to NOT be busy. I have learned what the pieces of myself are that will never change- my love for my dad and how I feel about my friends, how kids keep me grounded and that I love the way words can be strung together in a manner so amazing they can change the way a person feels. With all these realizations and all the questions, I can finally say that I have definitely found myself again, waiting in a place I never would've thought to look before. While I was busy trying to survive, I had wandered away. Everything was changing, and I couldn't figure out if I was even the same.

And while I was waiting to be found again, I was given a gift. It was the gift of support from people who helped carry me along, people who had once been where I now found myself. And I promised myself that if I made it through, that I would do the same for someone else- that I would do even more for them than was done for me, which was a lot. Believe it or not, the time has come, and I feel very graced by the opportunity. Because when you've been through it, you never want another person to do it alone for one tiny second.

And thus is life. I crave that time of year when I worry about nothing and instead roll thoughts and ideas around, but those days are still a few weeks away. For now, I have to make the best of what is chaotic and hectic- plans that were supposed to come through for the new warehouse are dragging along and I have been working harder than a sniffer dog in Amsterdam. Not to mention the buzz of regular life. I'm looking forward to vacation. Reading a book for Pete's sake. Taking a walk. Sleeping late and having a long lunch. I miss it. But I am also finding a really good feeling about all this limbo I've been in and just kind of enjoying these weird in-between stages. After all, when they're gone, they're gone, and then I'll be looking back saying, "I wish I just would've relaxed and enjoyed that time for what it was."

-MM

I like kids, I just don't think I could eat a whole one

Well, I had hoped to post much more during this short break but it just hasn't turned out that way. Lucky for you there are only 11 weeks of school left and then I'll at least get back to posting regularly.

Yesterday was the first day of the break where I actually had a normal day- the first few days were spent mainly resting and getting better from a pretty rough bout of the common cold. I feel really lucky that I got sick just before break, believe it or not, because I never could've taken this much time to rest and stay home during the regular work weeks. I'm looking forward to getting back to school and finishing off the rest of this year. I'm not quite burned out but mighty crispy around the edges, and looking forward to doing nothing productive or even slightly intelligent for about 3 months. I've done a lot this year to establish myself as a teacher that can and does contribute to the team, but that has meant a ton of work on my part. The 2nd year is supposed to be so much easier! And it is, really, but I'm hoping the 3rd year is about 1/8 of the work this year was. Whew. I need a long summer break to rest and recoup and drink lots of wine and watch pointless, mind-numbingly bad tv and sleep way too late.

One thing I have really learned this year that has made a huge difference is what real teaching means. I know that sounds vague, and this probably won't make sense to anyone except the few other teachers out there that read this blog, but when you start out teaching, you have so many ideals about how your classroom will be. I know that I was convinced that I would be different from the teachers that I experienced growing up. I thought that I would do things in a totally new way and that old conventions would have no place in my classroom. 100!% of my students would pass the tests. I'd take the time to make sure every student learned in their own unique way. Blah blah blah.

Of course when you're thrown into a classroom situation you begin to realize that the reason so many teachers are the same is because they're working for sheer SURVIVAL. Of course so many kids slip through the cracks- the teachers are forced to move on and cover material and leave others behind so that they can get enough kids to pass so they can get their contract renewed. It really has so little to do with the kids, and so much to do with the system. I know that sounds so negative and you hear that over and over but until you're actually caught up in the bureaucracy, it's difficult to understand how so many teachers are set up to fail or set up so that just reaching status quo is already way more work than they are capable of doing. And thus explains the majority of my first 2 years.

What's made a difference to me recently is that I've had a mentor. Like a real mentor that works in the classroom and knows what she's doing and strives to create an incredible learning environment for her kids. A mentor that took me under her wing and showed me how she did things and little by little has cut me off things to try on my own without any help, even when I ask for it. So essentially, bit by bit she's raised the standard for my teaching and then forced me in tiny steps to do it on my own. It's amazing the difference this has made to me to 1.) have someone I can model myself after and 2.) have someone to work with very closely that is a master teacher and that can answer my 7 billion daily questions. But what this has really done (which is the most amazing thing of all) is shown me how to bring my classroom to life. My instruction has taken an amazing turn because I have not only learned the best way to know what to teach, but I have just now begun to understand the best way that kids learn. That means when the kids say, "this is boring..." then I need to take a step back and realize that if they are thinking that, then chances are that they AREN'T LEARNING ANYTHING. Whoa. What a slap in the face. And so I've started to read a lot about how the brain works and what kinds of learners there are and what that means for me. For instance, about 70% of all instruction is auditory and verbal, and about 70% of all learners are kinesthetic. Does that seem weird? Why are we forcing kids to learn material in a way they are naturally going to have a harder time doing so? The real reason, whether teachers want to admit it or not, is because it's easier to prepare a lesson where we lecture and take notes than one where we are forced to set up extensive hands-on materials. But in the long run, what a difference it makes.

And here's how I know things have changed: in every class, there are a few kids that will almost always make good grades on a test, a few kids that will almost always fail, and a bunch in the middle that will average around 70's or 80's. BUT when you begin teaching the right way, and working lessons in a totally new realm, those kids that almost always fail will begin to succeed. And not just by barely passing, either. I mean those kids will begin to ace it. And that is an amazing feeling. It's amazing not just because you're doing your job the right way, but it's amazing to see kids that have no confidence in their abilities begin to see how much they can do. It's an entire change in their consciousness. And that's when I take the opportunity to point out to them how smart they have been all this time, all these years when they were making bad grades- not because they couldn't do it, but because their teachers were the ones who were failing. Failing miserably. Failing in not only doing a good job teaching but failing in giving these students what they needed. And what they needed was to know that they could succeed.

So there you go. There's the huge (and I mean like life-altering huge [like Tom Cruise Scientology video huge]) awakening I've had regarding my job recently.

Whew.

That calls for a nap.

More to come (hopefully before June),

-MM

My Ego is My Amigo

What's the difference between God and a Doctor?
God doesn't think he's a Doctor.

That joke has nothing to do with this post but it's always good to get a jab in from Jump Street. It's February, one of those 4 months of the year when I'm constantly considering finding another job. I check the classifieds, I ask friends, I daydream of a job working with cancer survivors. I love the kids, but all the other stuff seems to get in the way of teaching this time of year and I'm hella ready for summer. Today I left work at 3:30 for a physical therapist appointment and by God if I wasn't amazed to see what it was like to drive around in the daylight. Crazy.

Work's been getting in the way of all the stuff I find so important- I've hardly had a chance to check in on my peeps and I haven't kept up with my message board. It's so difficult sometimes to make it balance. I feel like I've done well this school year up until now, so I guess it's true it gets a little easier every year. I'm just ready to win the lottery so that I can start working on advocacy full time. Ready to be living the dream.

So to everyone out there that I keep in touch with, all my friends that are enduring treatment right now or recovering from it, just know that you are in my heart and in my thoughts.

And to you, dream job offer, I am waiting patiently. But if you don't hurry up, I could potentially be working with a nametag and visor and a much more serious case of acne.

And you should never trust a woman in a visor.

Peace.

-MM

This t-shirt says it all

Besides science fair, and starting to teach Saturday school, and the new science program we're starting, and the petition that is now up to 262 signatures (that's right, fools!) and trying to keep up with the new influx of emails, not much has been going on. This is the part of the school year we like to call "Boot Camp." That's meant not only for the kids, but actually mostly for the teachers. From now till April, it's all about getting ready for TAKS, and that means I've been working at least 12 hour days since we got back from Christmas break. It's hell, but I'm trying to keep a positive attitude and say, hey, it's only 3 more months. And by "positive" I mean "lots of beer" and by "attitude" I mean "in the fridge."
The really crazy thing about all this is that after I wrote my last post about all the pain I've been in and the sorry state of my body, I did some serious impulse shopping from Amazon (like 4 books in 5 minutes) and what I've found out has really helped. I can't believe I put off admitting for so long the kind of pain I was experiencing. Looking back, if I just would've admitted it, I guess I could've moved forward with it a lot sooner. But nonetheless I'm excited because it seems like for the first time since I finished Interferon (which is I guess a year and a half ago) I've seen some improvement in how I feel. It's pretty astounding that changing a few simple things can make that kind of difference. I'm thrilled, though- like really thrilled- to be feeling better. The pain was making me crazy. Nick Nolte crazy. Brittney Spears crazy. Okay, not Brittney Spears crazy. Leave Brittney alone!

-MM

How to eat fried schoolchildren

Sorry it's been so long since my last update. As you know now, the school year can be a bit hectic.

Having said that, I need to make sure that I make this clear too: your 2nd year teaching out weighs your first by about a million percent. I know, I know, mathematically that's not possible. But I'm telling you, I'm not exaggerating. I sleep at night, my room is organized, the kids actually get to enjoy the class because it's not so strained and new to me. So far, too, the goals I set for myself in the classroom have been attainable, and that's making the class better, too.

Not that there aren't "challenges" (the teacher word for problems) this year. I have a good group of really sweet kids, most of which still think members of the opposite sex are yucky, which I personally love. So cute to see them so young, and it makes my job SO much easier if we don't have love affairs going on. But never fear, by spring these guys will be jumping through their skin to see what it's like to kiss behind the gym after school. Ah, young love.



I've also had an opportunity to get to know my fellow teachers this year and- believe it or not- make FRIENDS. Remember those? The ones back before the chemo days, the ones you got to know at work and just vented to and were there to be vented to? Yes, those. Good God, what a difference it makes to be able feel comfortable enough in your own skin to just laugh and talk to someone like you used to. And to be able to hear other people in your same situation feeling the same way as you. These girls I've gotten to know have made my life a lot easier this year. Not to mention happy hour.



My one goal this year that I've failed miserably at is working out 3 days a week. I've pretty consistently worked out 2, and I always do it once, but this is it truly not good enough. Let's face it, people, I officially hate my body. And I'm an equal opportunity hater. I hate my legs, I hate my butt, I hate my back, but most of all I hate my front. I can't remember the last time I was so disgusted with myself. While I was on chemo, I always told myself that it was a temporary situation, and that I had no control over what was happening. But now, good Lord, it's been 2 years and I'm still struggling to get back into shape. Can I really blame this on chemo still? Me thinks not.

That's it for me. Tune in next week for the full on breakdown of every inch of my cottage cheesy bottom.

Today

Just really feel the need to tell you about my day today.

Started out, technically, last night at 1 a.m. when I still couldn't sleep, after laying there 2 hours, b/c I was thinking about all I needed to do this week. It's a short week, which is awesome, but also means I missing out on a full instructional day. So much to do!
Awake by 5:10 and at school by 6:00, and if you think teachers have it easy, just think about the line of teachers that were at the door trying to get in, trying to get a jump on the day. But everyone was laughing and smiling, giving each other a hard time- "What are you people doing here so early?"
But 7, I'd had breakfast, made copies, and was ready for the first lesson of the day- place value. If you haven't pulled teeth lately, just let me tell you, it's a lot like teaching place value. But with place value there's a lot more blood and screaming.
7:30 a.m.- time to serve breakfast, take roll, collect beginning of the school year paperwork (all 11 forms per student), distribute (again) the paperwork that wasn't filled in correctly or that hasn't come close to being turned in yet, take breakfast roll, put the remaining breakfast in a specifically marked bag, put the breakfast trash in a specific trash bag, say the pledges (including the new, deranged, Texas pledge), and get a math warm-up in the works. Then do the other attendance, and send in the completed forms, each one complete with it's own specific set of instructions- (green sheets in order of student id#, pink sheets in alphabetical order, blue sheets by date of birth, etc.). Then the principal does a random walk-thru ("Ms. Lee, why are you not in the midst of your place value instruction?") Give out table points to the quietest, most attentive table and individual points to those dedicated to their task and helping their neighbor without giving answers. Okay, time to teach now.
So, my new goal this year is to not do more than 15 minutes of instruction at a time, considering the average 11 year old brain is already stretched pretty thin by 15 minutes of instruction. In the midst of those 15 minutes, there are 2 interruptions- one to remind me to sell school t-shirts, and the other to let me know we need more family members signed up in the PTA. Back to instruction, and the kids are starting to get it. This year, a lot more hands-on, a lot more interactive instruction, a lot more "forming their own theories" about numbers. And it seems to be working. 15 minutes are up and so we play place value bingo for the prize of one gooey brain, for which the majority of the class is willing to give up a major organ. 2 games and they're still begging for more, and I can't believe my ears. Finally I have to give out homework, just to make sure everyone can apply this stuff on paper. Did I mention I have a kindergarten level kid in my class, for which I've had to modify and come up with lessons that look the same, but really are 4 grade levels lower? Also I have one student from South America who's parents refuse to put him in bi-lingual classes, so I've had to translate enough parts of the lesson so that he is learning English, but still able to fallow along. It seems, by the look of the homework, only about 10% (around 3) are really not getting it. This is about average. It's 9:30, and time to teach the other class math now. Start all that over.
It's 11:10, and time for PE. Two kids having a little anxiety about going, and I've got to figure out why. One is obviously being bullied, but I have no idea by who. This is the PI piece of my job, and I've got to get to the bottom of it quick. The other, I finally figure out, doesn't want to go because of headaches. The headaches are caused by vision problems, and the parents don't have the money for glasses. I know this because I saw the application for free lunch- six people in the household on an income of $300 a week. They make so little because probably illegal, and they make it under the table. These families come here so their kids can get a decent education, but the problem is the gangs fill these low income neighborhoods. My bully, she's being hasseled by older kids in her apartment complex, and they all wear red. We wonder why she bullies others- because she feels so powerless outside of the classroom. And my poor vision kid, he'll get the glasses he needs but it'll be 4 weeks easily. So, I'm off to the counselor's office, who is good. Last year, the counselor just tried to avoid all the paperwork, so she did nothing. At least she's gone. 45 minutes of paperwork to get some intervention on the bully. I pick up the paperwork for the glasses on the way back, and will have to get to it later. Time to pick up the kids. We go back to the classroom and read a few pages of the Ron Clark book. The kids eat it up, they really want to explore character development and they say please and thank you in the lunchroom, a phenomenon that does not go unnoticed. Same thing happened last year, and the lunch ladies love it! I have 2 minutes for a Lean Cuisine while I fill out the paperwork for low-cost glasses. Pick up the kids, and now back to the classroom for science, a lesson on the scientific method. You thought place value was bad. Luckily, we're doing a "swing bear pendulum" experiment that makes it come to life, and the reward of a gummy bear at the end of the lesson gets everybody working hard. More individual points and table points, and I'm amazed how hard these kids work for a little recognition. 15 minutes of recess as a reward, but the winners vote and tell me they'd rather eat lunch with me than go outside. :) I'm all warm inside, and feel blessed by such good kids being in my life. The bell rings, and the real work begins, getting ready for tomorrow and the rest of the week. 3 teachers come in and cry between 3 and 5, because their class is so low and the pressure is so high. I remember this from last year- good grief, I had no idea how to deal. This year, I'm much more able to roll with the punches. Still a struggle, though. Copies and laminating for the activities this week, but the copier shuts down mid copy. Third time since school started that this has happened. I'm amazed that the teachers never complain. A grumble or 2, but no serious bitching. I go down and try to help destress another new teacher, and we laugh it off with stories from the day. It's 8 o'clock, and I know my hard work tonight will allow me to leave by 5 probably the rest of the week. I should go work out, but need to be able to sleep. I gotta start leaving earlier, but I love the satisfaction I'm getting from my job and from the kids. But I miss Bobby, too. It's all a toss-up, you try to balance. I get a text message on the way home, a kid from last year who tells me middle school is "fly." I'm happy that last year I lasted, even though it almost killed me. And then I get to see Bobby, the best part of my day.
Time for bed!

Hodgepodge, I suppose

Since it's been so long since my last post, I have quite a bit to post on. So today's title is pretty appropriate for the theme.

Woo! It's been hard to get into writing on this blog this summer- I've just been so into the whole vacation thing, I think I took a vacation from everything!

So, I'm kinda all over the place. Just get ready- my writing is probably gonna be pitiful.

School is quickly approaching and though I'm excited about my second year of teaching, I have to say I could use another 9 months of vacation. This is pretty different from the "old me," the workaholic who couldn't get enough on her plate. I look back now and I'm not sure what that stemmed from, except that I've always loved being busy and challenged, and when a job stopped fulfilling either one of those, I'd either go out and get an additional one or replace the first one altogether, although I really did more of the former than the latter, which explains why I never had just one job. Teaching, though, is definately more than one job, and it has been successful in keeping me way too busy and challenged to the point of pulling my own hair out. On a single day, a teacher is not just a teacher, but a nurse, a counselor, a mother, a tutor, a liasion, and a confidant- not to mention the administrative duties of the job, which, let me just say, at least equal the task of hearding blindfolded cats on rollerskates through Disneyland.

I've spent quite a bit of time this summer getting some of my lesson plans, etc., in working order and ready for the upcoming year. But mostly, I've spent time just getting my head right. My head and my body. I have spent every moment since surgery really focusing on whatever it's gonna take to get me as close as to pre-cancer/pre-Interferon me as I possibly can. And, I'll tell you, I'm pretty proud of how far I've gotten. After a total renovation of my diet since June and the ability to sleep 10 hours a night, I've got more energy than I've had since August 2005. Another thing I think that's also helped has been laying off of running and giving other stuff a chance. Running has always been a passion, but let's face it- it's rough on the old lymphadema. Instead, I've been taking boxing, "I'm-gonna-knock-you out-cause-mama-said-knock-you-out" style, and though I'm no where near ready for my first fight, I'm having a blast doing it and really feeling the benefits, too. I also bought a bike today, and I'm looking forward to really dedicating myself to that for a while, seeing where that goes. They're not running, but they are a fun alternative for now, and as I get in better shape, I'm sure I can pick up running slowly and be able to enjoy that again. And the ability to do more physically is really doing great things for my mental state, too. It's amazing what physical fatigue will do to your mental state. Having friends who look at you like Mandy is looking at me in this photo will also mess with your head. ----------->

San Diego definately helped, too. Wow, to be back in my old spot and leading my old life for a week or so- that really gives you a glimpse at how much things have changed. I love my life in Dallas, but it's been built around healing, predominantly. It's been good, and given me a chance to focus on my health. It's also given me my life with Bobby, a great place to live, stability, and my career, which I never coulda gotten so easily in San Diego. But it also gave me a glimpse at the parts of that old life that I miss and want back, and I've been working on that, too. Just having a social life and girlfriends and having a great time being irresponsible and drinking too much every once in a while- stuff that I've put on the back burner because I was too sick to leave the house or too tired after a long day of work- I'm making it a point to get to a place where they are just a normal everyday part of my life again. Because, don't we all know it- life is too damn short not to do that stuff. It's amazing the clarity that comes with psychotic jealousy, isn't it?

So, we'll see. I'm making it a serious point to put my real life first, and that means I've got to remember those priorities about making each day worth remembering.

Bobby came down the last 4 days of the trip, and we had an awesome time in Vegas. I can't wait to post the pictures!

This post seems a little all over the place... and random... but kinda fun to get you caught up on all things going on. Coming soon- photos from Vegas, baby! The mecca!

-MM

p.s. Do you know what it's like to fall in the mud and get kicked... in the head... with an iron boot? Of course you don't, no one does. It never happens. It's a dumb question... skip it.

Thank God it's Doomsday

Thank God for my job. I say that because lately it's been the only time I don't obsess about whether we'll do radiation or surgery. Not that it matters, really. Why am I so concerned about this? In a way it feels silly. I mean, it's not like I'm sitting around waiting to find out if I have cancer or not. The truth is, I know it's there. And I feel like we'll do whatever it takes right now to get rid of this, and then continue to be vigilant and fight it whenever (did I say whenever, I meant IF ever) it comes back. When I say it like that, it seems like no big deal. And yet it's eating up my thoughts, always there in the back of my mind, nagging me. Like a big, "What IF?" The crazy thing is I've never felt like the what-ifs in life were worth pondering. Why waste that energy? Now, it feels like it's all I do. What if..... That's different for me, as a person who has lived her life fairly fearlessly up until now. I've never been much for limiting any activity due to fear, including things that I probably should've been more afraid of. Maybe I've been in denial this whole time, acting like I'm immortal, acting like nothing can hurt me, diving into the moment despite the little fear that was there. It's worked, though! I've always felt very alive, and now, here I am, realizing just how human and fragile I can be. And it's overwhelming, of course. I try to just be myself and at the same time grasp these new feelings. Sometimes I'm a basketcase. I cry at the drop of a hat. I cry in the bathroom at work. I've had the same headache for 3, 4 weeks now- the type of headache I have to take Vicodin to get relief from. But, it's a process. I'm working through it. I'm a healer, I'm healing. I'm a freakin' machine. A healing machine.
Bobby and I had an argument yesterday- ok, more like a disagreement- about vacationing this summer, and I swear I thought I was losing my mind. We had essentially decided that plans we've been making all year are not going to happen. I felt like we don't even know what we'll be doing in the next 5 years, how many times we'll be fighting cancer, when I'll have to be in the hospital, when we'll have another chance to just go and do. I threw a fit. Do you know how long it's been since I pulled a "I'm locking myself in my room" fit? High school at least, maybe even jr. high. Good God. I really did come near to a break down. And I finally just let myself cry and lose it and feel sorry for myself, and after about an hour of that, I felt better. Like way better. I don't know why I fight being so human like that, but it's ridiculous. If I would just accept my feelings for what they are, it'd be a whole lot easier to move on from there. Just a bit of advice for the rest of you Wonder women out there.
Thank God for Gilda's Club. I come full out on Thursday and say I'm happy my cancer is back- o.k., not happy, but you know, relieved- and almost everyone in the room said they knew how I felt! Where else can you get that? I don't think I could even pay a room of people to be that convincing.
Thank God for all of you. I really don't know what I would've done if I hadn't had so many of you writing me, calling me, posting comments. Emails full of advice. Emails that brought tears to my eyes. Emails from complete strangers that offered their home to me and old me their own stories that are so similar to mine. Beautiful stories of hope. I sincerely can not thank all of you enough. I can't list all 109 of you right now, but just know that you're loved.

More scans have been ordered. I'll let you know what they say. Thank you again for all that y'all do.

-MM

When Good Germs go Bad

Well, it's cold season, and guess who's got one. Could be a lot worse, but I'm definately down for a few days. Called in sick 2 days in a row to work, so I know it's more serious that usual. Pretty normal, I suppose, though, for the first year back as a teacher. In fact, Friday, every 5th grade teacher was out sick except for 2. We have finally succumbed to the carrier monkeys that brought the germs upon us.

It's been a long time since I've been sick like this and it wasn't from chemo. I'm thinking it was when I had pneumonia in San Diego, actually, the last time. And that was much worse than this. Though the Robitussin gives me a nice flying :) feeling, I'm hoping today I can lay off of it so I can maybe get some work done. The good news is today is the first day I've woken up and my chest doesn't hurt. That's a good sign, I think, and I'm armed and dangerous with Puff's Plus this weekend.

I've missed the last couple of Gilda's club meetings due to feeling ill and just being so darned busy. I'm really hoping I can make next Thursday's group. I haven't really decided on this post-treatment support group, yet. I can't decide if I really want to stick with it or not, but since I've only given it one try, I'm definately gonna hit it a couple of more times to see how it goes. It's become pretty obvious that I need to do something, that I need to be in touch with all that's going on with me and my fears about cancer recurrence. I think this will be good outlet.

I'm sure, if you're like me, everytime you get sick after the CA diagnosis, you go into panic mode. I immediately began to worry that the cold would move into my chest, and my immune system wouldn't be able to fight it. This, friends, is called paranoia. Kinda like every time I get a headache that little voice goes, "OMG! Brain mets!"

This, I suppose, is the adjustment period to that "new normal" everyone talks about. I wish I could just get to that "new normal" and get it over with! Move on! Geezy Creezy! Build a bridge and get over it!

Anyway, that's today's rant. I'll fill you in later on my new derma. Now THAT's a good story.

-MM