Funny isn't it? Life never seems to turn out the way you expect it will. Ya gotta laugh about it or you'll dehydrate from all the tears.

Its been quite a long time since I've written here and I'm not sure why...lord knows I've had enough thoughts going through my mind...problem seems to be moving them from the brain to the page...but, I'm gonna give it a try.

For those of you who don't know, I am in the midst of my second battle with cancer. The first go-around 3 years ago wasn't much fun and this one is even less so.

Without going into the borning details, let me just say the treatment this time is a little rougher than the first and has robbed me of not only the physical strength, but its made a pretty good dent in my emotional strength as well.

Mentally, I'm still pretty much as wacked as I've ever been..I still try to find humor wherever its hiding and I seek out people whose pity buttons are broken.

So often when my kids were growing up, I promised myself I would never be a burden to them in my old age..I meant that promise in the deepest part of my heart.

Now, here I am in my old age, a burden to my children. I live with one daughter and her partner in their home. They take me to my doctor appointments, monitors my meds, encourages me to "eat" when I have no appetite and try to keep me entertained.

Another daughter who lives a far distance away provides me with much needed laughter, the kick in the pants I need when I start feeling sorry for myself, financial assistance, and a non-judgemental ear when I need to vent.

My youngest daughter is the queen of prayer lists, calls me frequently since she lives in another state as well..and she is planning to come spend some time in September to help with daily duties and entertainment.

My two sons do the best they can...they would do anything I ask them to do...they just can't think of what to do on their own...guess that's a guy kind of thing.

They all provide me with love that nourishes me, they give me a reason to continue the fight and I am grateful to each of them for all their contributions to my well being. I love them all more than I can possibly verbalize.

This is not how I had planned to leave them. I wanted to go while I was still strong, self reliant, independent and able to do it all myself....just ain't gonna happen that way.

Not that I'm going anywhere right away...I plan to stay long enough to at least re-aquire some of the self reliance and independence. Strong may be too much to hope for.

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I've learned to quit worrying about things....silly things that don't, or at least shouldn't matter.

Dignity. Hah...that's gone out the book...it's very difficult to look dignified when you've got tubes sticking out of nearly every orifice and and hospital staff member can walk by and see your naked butt sticking out from that gorgeous paper gown....not that I haven' got a pretty cute little butt to be flashing.

It's demeaning when 2 or more medical personell stand around your bed, discussing your physical problems as if you weren't even in the room...its like you've become invisible. I don't know for sure, but I've been told they are offended if the patient should mention she would be happy if they all would "GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY ROOM!" oops, sorry, must be the medications talking.

There are a whole lot of little pet peeves I have about all this health care business that I will probably touch upon from time to time. Please don't let it lead you to believe that I am ungrateful...I am very grateful because there are those special nurses and aids and doctors and dieticians and housekeepers who take pride in their work and show a genuine caring for their patients. Thankfully they out number the idiots.

I'm at a point in treatment now where I can pretty much predict which will be the good days, and which ones won't be so hot.

The day the chemo is given and the following day aren't too bad...that's usually Tuesday and Wednesday. On Thursday, the shit hits the fan...the pain becomes unbearable and no amount of medication makes it go away....it feels as if the chemo is a jackhammer choppin up the cement of the cancer cells. By Sunday, the pain is once again controlable but the nausea and vomiting take over...that's usually good for a couple of days. Wedneday, you can actually keep some solid food down but the trouble is, every thing has a metal/chemical taste to it so your intake is limited.

Just about the time you feel like getting dressed into real clothes and maybe taking a ride into town, you're so tired you can't do more than 10 minutes at the corner grocery store.

But, it gets better and just when the day comes and you say..."Gee...I feel great today!"...you look at the calander and its time to go back for the next treatment.
So, on the bright side, there are about 4 good days when you can be civil, even kind to visitors, perhaps even cook a good meal, do a white chick dance or two and dispense a couple of good belly laughs.

Is it worth it? You bet it is! All of the days, even the worst ones bring at least a glimmer of happiness, kindness, love and compassion...sometimes it is you who can give those things to others...but more often than not, you are the recepiant...either way, its a good thing.

I've missed writing in my blog...and I haven't written mostly because the news wasn't pretty and I don't wanna depress people. But I've decided I'm going to write something every day....good or bad, funny or sad, witty or boring...and why? Because I can, that's why...after all, it is my blog.

I hope you will find something to peak your interest and would invite any comments as long as your pity button is disconnected.

I'm gonna do my best to keep up with you folks and keep sending good vibes and an occasional laugh you way.

Thanks to each of you for your compassion, good vibes, kind thoughts and prayers.

Bless you all....every one.

xoxoxoxo