New Chapter New Blog

http://meaola.tumblr.com/

I am going to try out tumblr, might get back to blogspot, but I thought I would try a new format!

Fixed!

Blog is finally fixed!

However, I think I am going to start a new blog, just to move away from the whole cancer thing. I am anxious to get it behind me, and this blog, while it helped me organized my thoughts, communicate, and keep me sane, is part of that.

So, as soon as I have some time to breath (between tutoring Luis' niece, summer school, and work), I will start up something new, and start moving on.

back home

I am home and I haven't been this happy and at peace since, well, I was home last time!

We are staying at a beautiful beach house on the Kohala coast, where we have a phenomenal view of the Kohala Mountain and Maui island. Turtles swim in the ocean below the balcony, and you can see flashes of turquoise and yellow from the tropical fish feeding on the coral below.

Last night, Auntie Deena brought all the HPA (my high school), girls down to Mauumae to have a gathering and hula practice before they graduate this Saturday. There was a sharing of Hawaiian food, kalua pig, limu kohu, poi, sweet potato, dried shrimp, each with a special significance to help these girls draw strength from each other and themselves for the transition they are facing. I was invited to join, and it brought me back to being an 18 year old.

My high school is very small (graduating classes are around 70), and most of these girls have been in the same school with each other since kindergarten, so it is always a very raw and emotional experience to say goodbye to each other in this way. Here is a picture of our graduation ceremony, which is the most beautiful high school graduation ceremony in the world.

It was just so magical, sitting on the beach in a circle, with the entire milk way smeared above us, a red crescent moon, shooting stars, torches flickering on the perimeter, and all the love and aloha that this woman Auntie Deena brings. Honestly, she is one of the most phenomenal people I have ever met. She can meet you and in two seconds make you feel like you are the most special amazing person on the face of this planet and you have just blessed her life, when in fact, it is the other way around!

I went to bed at midnight, and got up at 5:30am to run along the coast. The sun rose over the kohala mountain, and I jogged past the sacred heiau (Hawaiian temple), along the beach, and along pathways through the lava rock. It was a refreshing and cleansing run.

As soon as I returned, my husband and I jumped on our stand up paddle boards and explored the coastline. It is only 10am and my day has been perfect.

I will post pics as soon as I can get them onto my computer! You have to see it to believe how turquoise the water is.

Finals and The Big C

One more final to go . . .I haven't slept in so long I don't think I remember how to fall asleep anymore.

But I am too tired to study. Drinking a beer. Yeah, I know, that is REALLY gonna help my statistics exam that I am going to take in exactly 8 hours. The one I haven't started studying for because I was so so behind one homework, that is actually what I did all day.

Sharing a new show on Showtime (which I don't have) with Laura Linney about a woman who gets a cancer diagnosis and then makes some changes since she has only a year to live. It will debut this fall.



Not sure how a I feel about it. I have problems with movies and shows about cancer, like My Sister's Keeper and that ilk. I don't like them because it allows people who don't have cancer the luxury to jump into our world for an hour or so, pretend they know what it feels like to go through the emotional upheaval of really honestly being scared that you are going to die and leave everyone behind in an emotional ruin, and then they get dry their eyes, and turn off the TV and go back out to their cancer free life.

Maybe I am just jealous.

Okay, no more God stuff, I promise. I just told someone last week that I had cancer, and they next question they asked me was, "Do you know the Lord?" I love Texas :)

I have been sick. Neecy came over the other weekend, coughed in my face (when I had her, she ALWAYS covered her mouth! Arg!), and now I have laryngitis or some crap where I have halfway coughed up a lung and I have no voice.

I completely avoided the hospital, which I am VERY proud of. If you get a temperature over 99.6 as a chemo patient it is the FIRST place you go because they don't want you to die of a cold (remember, we have no WBC for phagocytosis (see, my Biology class is coming in handy!) and therefore have no immune system. So you get a cold, and I get pnuemonia type thing. And once you go to the hospital, you have to stay there 24 hours which ends up being like 2k which I have to pay 20% and THAT IS NOT HAPPENING BEFORE MY TRIP TO HAWAII! I wanna be able to swipe my mastercard at Kona Brew Pup baby! And Atillas (aka Harbor House)! And Costco!

My fever went up to 101.5 (eek!), but totally cool, it broke on Sunday morning and all I got was a script for levaquin when I called the doc on Monday. I know I could have called the doctor and just gotten a perscription for antibiotics earlier, but I didn't want to LIE, cause I knew they would ask if I had a fever. So it was better not to call, that way I didn't have to lie.

Luis is probably stoked since this is the first time I have shut up for three days straight since he has known me. I try to whisper at him, but that gets annoying for both of us, so basically all my thoughts bubble around my head with nowhere to go. I didn't realize how much I needed Luis as a sounding board for my internal monologue (that really isn't so internal, is it?). No wonder I call my Mom 4000 times a day. It isn't really to tell her anything, just bounce thoughts off of her. We do it as a family, which can be disorienting.

I remember when I took Luis to meet everyone all together in California for the first time (before we were united in matrimony) and I remember him needing to walk around outside with me and just BE AWAY from all the talking, the brainstorming, the feedback, the barrage of information and fluff that we just throw at each other without thinking.

Anyway, without chat and facebook I would really be suffering right now, but at least my iPhone and computer have offered some form of interaction that does not require vocal chords.

I have my first treatment without chemotherapy tomorrow. Now I am just going to wait for my dear husband to come home (I have infected him with Neecy's disease) and tend to my man as he tended to me these past few days.

OMG

My final chemotherapy was today!

Eyelashes and eyebrows are coming back!

I still have two more years of infusion treatments, and perhaps 5 more years of hormonal treatments if I decide to take tamoxifen, but chemotherapy is over.

I would like to address the subject of God.

I have met so many people, and received so many messages, about praying to God. In fact, many people can't believe I am so upbeat and positive and don't have God in my life. I received amazing gifts, rosaries, books, pictures of the Virgin of Guadeloupe; I cherish all of them because they mean so much to the people that gave them to me, and therefore have value to me.

I believe in "God," or at least something out there way bigger than us. I will use "God" as sort of the catch-all phrase for belief in a higher power.

I have a very non-traditional view of religion. I think humans are like ants. We see ants going about their lives, making babies, serving their queen, etc etc, but we don't expect ants to understand our problems about our cheating husbands, our kids with learning disabilities, wars, plagues, earthquakes, famine. We just know that ants can't wrap their minds around those concepts. Even if the ants wanted to, they couldn't.

And that is how I characterize our relationship with God. We are ants. There is something so much bigger than what is going on around us, that there is no way, no possible way, no matter how much I tried, I could wrap my tiny little brain around what is really going on out there in the metaphysical world. I just don't think we humans are near enough to god to understand.

Nor do I think it matters. I don't think God cares whether or not humans believe in him or not, or how they worship him. He has bigger fish to fry. His livelyhood doesn't depend on us. He would be in trouble if it did. Do I sincerely care if the ant comprehends Obama's health care bill or the earthquake in Haiti? Do those bigger issues affect the ant's life? No.

Do I have any evidence for this? No. But it is the view of God that I have constructed for myself, and it is just as valid as any religion. And just because there are only a few people that believe this, while millions believe in the Catholic or Muslim brand of religion, doesn't make mine less valid. Numbers do not translate to validity. I have just as much proof as you, i.e, no proof at all.

So I have LOTS of people telling my to pray to God. I sincerely think "God" (for simplicity's sake, we'll just keep calling him that), doesn't care if I have cancer or not.

He has WAY bigger shit to worry about. Like do you care if a bug in your yard has cancer? I mean, I suppose if you stopped your busy day to think about it, you would probably prefer that they beetle, spider, or cockroach, doesn't have cancer, but you aren't going to loose any sleep over it.

But I don't mind engaging those who are of the belief that prayer to God will make my cancer go away and never come back. So let's go!

Assumption 1: God is in control. If God were not in control, no point in telling me to pray because that means God has no affect on my cancer, because he is not in control. So, again, God controls all! ( Leaving the Devil out here, since I think the idea of the devil is just RIDICULOUS. )

So if God is in control, God gave me cancer in the first place, right? Or he let it happen, or whatever. Point is, the lord giveth, the lord taketh away. God is in control = God gave me cancer.

So if God gave it me cancer, there are two possibilities: there either is a reason for God to give me cancer, or there is no reason for God to give me cancer.

Let's deal with the latter first. If there is no reason, then me praying isn't going to do any good. God had his quota of 2,000 people to get cancer on January 14, 2009, my name popped up on the cancer lottery, and boom, my cells started multiplying out of control. Totally random Godness action.

If God gave me cancer for a reason (facing adversity, being an inspiration to my mom, etc), then me praying shouldn't have anything to do with cancer being treated and dealt with.

Unless you think that God gave me cancer so I could learn to pray to him (yes, I can feel you all nodding in agreement).

Definition of extort: wrest from an unwilling person by physical force, menace, duress, torture, or any undue or illegal exercise of power or ingenuity

That is extortion, pure and simple. In this hypothetical, God is EXTORTING me. He is doing something bad to me, until I worship him sufficiently, and then he will make me better. That is such a human thing to do, and a total projection of our weak characters onto God. God would not extort (well, maybe Old Testament God would). If God is extorting me, he can kill me right now because I don't want to play games with a mafia boss.

So anyway, that is why I don't pray to God. Under the assumption that God exists, praying to God just doesn't make sense. Unless you don't mind being extorted. Which I do.

I do think positively, I do think about how wonderful life is and all I cherish, I do hope. I have done everything in my power to change my lifestyle to an anti-cancer lifestyle. But I don't pray to God.

Note: I am not writing this post to start a discussion. I am writing this post to clarify my view point. Getting into a God discussion is going to be a big waste of time for me and you. However, after a year of receiving so many emails about how I need to pray, I thought you might be interested in my view point.

Hullo out there!

I have been so busy I can't believe it has been a month and a half. I have 948 (granted, most junk, but I still need to sort) emails in my hotmail box and about 60 in gmail, and tons in FB, so I am SO SO SO SO SO sorry for not being better at communicating when all of you, especially when it is all of you who lift me up and keep me going when I am so fricking tired and frustrated and ugly looking/feeling.

Quick update on everything:

School: Swamped. Two sciences with labs and an online (basically, teach yourself) statistics was a lot to take on during a semester with radiation, chemo, and a job (yes! I got one, more on that later). Still getting As in everything, planning on summer school, and looking forward to more self-enrichment!

Job: I am now working at a company called PhotoStat which copies medical records for various clinics and hospitals. I am working 20 hours a week. I hope that as soon as I get back from Hawaii I will be able to dip my feet into their sales team too! I am also going to work for the US census. They need Spanish speakers and it pays almost $20 an hour. I can do it in the evenings and on weekends, so it is totally flexible. So hopefully I can start paying all the medical bills that are rolling in. If you ever get cancer, try to keep all the fun and exciting chemo and surgery within a calendar year so you can hit your out-of-pocket just once, not twice. Paying 20% of everything like radiation and chemo sucks!

Health: Luis and I got a scare last week when the Khanny baby called with my PET scan results and I was told that there was something on my lung. Eeek! He said it could be radiation damage, but they needed at CT scan. Scared the poop out of me, but it ended up being pneumonic inflammation (lots of fluid in my lung), so in addition to 3rd degree burns my radiation treatment also f'ed up my lungs. It will get better, but radiation damage to vital organs is not on many people's "Thing to Experience" List.

Now this is the BIG health news: My last chemo treatment is going to be next week Wednesday!!!!!!!!!!!! I am going to get my hair back! My nails back! My periods back (I can't believe I am WISHING for that one, girls, but I am!!)!!!

Now, for the next two years every two weeks I will have monoclonal antibody treatmens of Herceptin and and angiogenesis inhibitor Avastin, which almost as bad as chemo because your body doesn't heal and blood randomly gushes out your nose in the most horrible places (romantic dinners with your husband, while you are holding children with both hands, after eating hot foods, etc), BUT it isn't chemotherapy.

Okay, it is after 4am and I have a HUGE bio test manana, but i wanted to say hi, tell you all I am so sorry for being out of contact, and come next month, I am going to be much better at responding at emails. Love you all. Life is wonderful. Thank you for being there for me even when it seems I have disappeared into the ether.

He's there . . inside your mind

I went to the radiologist today with my chest burning from the pain. I have to keep the burns very wet slathered in cream, otherwise the skin tightens and pops and then I get rivulets of blood running down into my stomach. Verdict by my nurse practitioner, as the doc is useless. Postponement of radiation and chemo for another week. Happy, but not ecstatic about extending my treatment further into the future.

They look at my chest, gasp, say, “Oh my god,” and then they tell me that this is normal. I know it isn’t. 2 weeks of radiation postponement is NOT normal. You aren’t even supposed to miss a day. Luckily it is at the end, and I know for a fact that if I am this sore, then the radiation probably got any stray cells that were biding their time, waiting for the chemo to finish before they began multiplying again.

But on to fun things!

Carla took me out to see Phantom of the Opera. It was wonderful. We had a girl’s brunch with bottomless mimosas. I was so zonked on the vicodin that I could barely hold a conversation, and didn’t partake. Then we drove to Fair Park, where Phantom was being held and it was so magical. Carla got seats in row C. ROW C! I could see the actors so well, and it was a much different experience than seeing it from the balcony (not Box 5), where I have been every other time.

I came home and an hour later our friends popped by for the Oscars. It was a great group of moviephiles. Usually I go to an Oscar party and I can’t hear anything cause everyone is talking and no one actually cares. But this one EVERYONE cared! It was fabulous. We had a pot, filled out ballots, and Renata walked away with all our money.

I am desperately trying to catch up on homework since last week I was out because of my painkillers. But American Idol is on tonight . . . . so not sure how productive I am gonna be

owee!

It really does feel like someone has poured boiling oil all over my skin. There are several large patches, maybe the size of a deck of cards where my skin has pealed away and left very new raw skin open to the exposed air. It hurts so much I can't wear any clothes without pain, and I have to keep the blistered areas covered with burn cream.

When I took my cats to the vet today for their rabies vaccinations, Pistachio decided to climb my chest to avoid the anal thermometer (can't blame him!). It hurt, but I didn't realize how bad it was until this big blood rose bloomed on my chest from where his nails scratched my raw skin. So I got home, tried to continue functioning on 3 super Tylenol, but I had to give up and go to the big V to numb the pain. It almost makes me cry, and trust me, I haven't cried because of pain in, well, I don't know how long. Long time.

I have so much to study, but I have to be on vicodin the whole time, and I simply can't retain or memorize information on it. It is quite frustrating. It took me 3 hours just to get through 10 pages of stats. So I try to do Tylenol during the day, but the pain is unmerciful, and I just can't. So my studies are going down the toilet.

I have people here cleaning the house, because I hate doing housework when I fell perfectly well, let alone when everything burns and I want to hit people and break things to deal with this. And there is something just wonderful about having professionals clean your house. It is like getting someone who is really good at ironing to iron your shirts. They can do a better job in three minutes than you could ever do in like 20 minutes of ironing the same shirt. Luis thinks it is a waste of money, but the idea of mopping my floors, scrubbing toilets, cleaning the base boards, dusting on top of all the cabinets, fridges, sills, and everything makes my stomach turn.

Okay, I am blabbing right now. I have a million things to do on my to-do list, and no ability to concentrate on any of them, so I think I am going to work on my family tree :)

Family Tree and Sucky Radiologists

I have become obsessed with my family tree. I don't know if it is the whole dying thing, but I really want to know where I fit in the the grand scheme of things. Getting down my family tree has been a really interesting and soothing way to place myself in history. I am using a great free online software called www.myheritage.com. I tried out several, and this was the most modern, most options and the easiest to use.

I have really only added my grandfather's side and I have 155 people so far going back 4 generations to Augustino Mecca, born in Italy in 1864. These Italians procreated like rabbits, which accounts for the amount of people with only four generations. And this is as far as it goes! We don't have much info passed that mid 1800's. So I think once I have everyone down, I might have to do some archive sleuthing! Fabulous excuse to go to Europe, don't you think?

Luis' family is going to be a madhouse, because even Luis mom doesn't remember birth dates for everyone because again, Catholic = lots of people and Puerto Rico = not the greatest record keeping. I guess that is what happens when you have 17 brothers and sisters;) Saving them until summer. Gonna get the American/Italians/German's down first.

Health Stuff

My blistering has caused my docs to postpone both my chemo and my radiation. ARG! But I need to heal, and trust me, it doesn't feel great, so I accept their opinion that I need to wait. I hate missing chemo when I take my pre-steroids because I just pumped by body full of really bad stuff for nothing.

I have learned a lot about radiologists during this month and I am not too impressed by my doctor so far.

Radiology is a GREAT field for doctors that suck at being people people. Their patient contact is minimal because the people that actually administer the radiation are the dosologist and the radiotherapists. I see the nurse practitioners every day, and they are wonderful, but my radiologist doesn't explain anything, and just checks my skin once a week for about 30 seconds.

So basically, since radiologists just see their patients once a week, they can make lots of money by serving patients in 3 or 4 clinics during the week, and going to one clinic each day. Most regular doctors work in 1, but radiologists can bounce from clinic to clinic, since their nurse practitioner, dosologist, and radiotherapists are doing all the work for them. Now, granted, the work is just running a computer program and the machine creates the gamma ray output, it doesn't take much skill, but radiology can be big money cause so many patients can be seen by one person. Here is a NYT article about it.

So this weekend, as most of you know from my griping, was pretty painful. I had radiotherapy on Monday, which was my last session for the entire chest area. I also had it Tuesday, which was the first of five treatments around the surgical scar. My radiologist who doesn't usually come into the radiation room, came in before my treatment on Tuesday to make sure that the radiation to the incision area was lined up. Therefore, he had to look at my chest, and he did, but only for about 15 seconds, and then he turned around and left without really saying anything (he nodded to the radiotherapist).

Tuesday is also the day that I see him at an appointment. I first see the nurse practitioner, who gasped, and said that we need to postpone treatment, that I needed to be on antibiotics until my wounds closed up, and that I needed burn cream, and needed all of this today. Then the radiologist waltzes in, she tells him my treatment plan, and he agrees. Which is fine, but HE SAW MY OOZY NASTY CHEST 15 minutes before that. Didn't that set off any alarm bells? Why did he let me get treated and then 15 minutes later say the damage was serious enough that I needed to take a week off? I don't think he looked at all, to be honest. He is just in his own world.

So lessons learned. 1) Make sure you see a radiologist that examines you BEFORE you get radiated, not after. 2) Make sure you get a radiologist that is a people person and actually enjoys patients 3) Make sure you get a radiologist that isn't jumping back and forth between 3 clinics and is super busy.

At first I though the Medicare regulation was too strict, and now I know it is necessary. The NYT article is really interesting. I hope you enjoy it.

Bad Mood!

I just woke up and I am hurting! These past couple days have been rough. Not mentally, as many of you must be imagining. I don’t really grapple with the “OMG-I-have-cancer-I-might-die thing anymore.” Don’t get me wrong, it is always there in the back of my head, but it is something I have gotten used to, shut out. It is sort of like families living in some war torn area of the world. You know that every day you send your child off to school you might not see them again. You can never forget it, but you put it out of your mind, so you can be sane.

So what has been so difficult? Radiation! I had gone 4.5 weeks with nothing but a light burn, and BAM! This week it KICKED MY BUTT. My skin, a shade of angry crimson, started blistering and popping. Every time one blister pops and the air hits it, I have this searing pain that makes me want to smash my fist through a window. But rather than healing up and toughing up, it just doesn’t happen. I don’t know why! Chemo? Just the nature of radiation burns?

Here is what my skin looks like, but, this is obviously not me.

So skin all around my chest and under my arm (which is not reddish, but black brown, so nasty), just cracking and oozing blood. Radiation burns feel like you have little glass shards in your skin that you can’t get out. So of course, I haven’t had one moment to go get my Vicodin prescription filled until 3pm this afternoon (I think I need a secretary). I agreed to baby-sit my cousin, Roshad, this morning, which was a bad idea. You can’t properly pick up and take care of a baby when your chest is in so much pain.

After I dropped him off at his grandmother’s house, I went to Costco on a Saturday to get my pain medication, and anyone that knows me, knows that Costco Saturdays are my own private version of hell. I had to park a quarter of a mile away, everyone just kind of camped in the aisles with their families not moving, and I still can’t figure out how people don’t know how to use the self-checkouts. The lady in my lane would scan her item, and then ring the help button so the guy would come and push continue for her so she could scan the next item. I almost stepped up to do it for her, but then I just breathed deeply and went to my happy place.

I survived :) Got home, napped for two hours, and ate some shrimp and Israeli couscous (my husband is on a mission to keep me well fed). On my doorstep was an Argentinean Pinot Noir that my aunt Michele dropped off, and as soon as I am not so highly medicated, I plan to try it. And then my girlfriend Carla bought me a ticket to see Phantom of the Opera, which was her first love and mine too!

Ahh, vicodin is now kicking in . . . .lovely lovely lovely. The tension is draining from my shoulders. Going to watch Tuesday’s episode of Lost and hope that Sawyer takes his shirt off at some point J Happy Saturday everyone!!!

The Big 10

10 more chemo sessions and 10 more radiation sessions. My radiated chest and armpit are starting to hurt. My skin burned, not red, not a nice honey brown, but this weird brownish-black color. I can't wear any type of bra, even the camisoles with the elastic bra shelf bother me. As if I needed an excuse not to wear a bra, it is one of the lovely things about having small boobs, or well, boob in my case.

I have been really focusing on exercising, and have actually brought myself up to a 6 mile run on Saturday! This is at a snail pace with tons of walk breaks, but it is actually wonderful. I ran outside on a path through Dallas that leads to White Rock Lake. The only frustrating this is that I have to run with a huge wad of Kleenex because tears POUR down my cheeks. I can soak through one kleenex and make it completely unusable in 20 minutes outside, so I went through 7 Kleenex, which is really annoying. Running in the gym, which isn't as pretty or as much fun, is actually a lot less frustrating because I don't look like a sobbing, emotional runner to everyone else on the path.

Something has happened recently, and I think it must be due to the radiation, but I have completely lost interest in food. I don't even feel like snacking. Not on anything healthy, not any junk food, just don't feel like eating at all. My attitude toward food is like in the movie, The Matrix. Those who got out of it could only eat this blah oatmeal stuff for sustenance.

To me, all food is that boring oatmeal stuff. If it weren't for my husband, I would not eat at all. He made the most yummy dish, polenta towers with tomato, eggplant, and shitake mushrooms, and it was only so so for me.

Until your appetite is gone for long periods, you have no idea what a wonderful feeling it is to be starving and then eat something delicious! I miss that.

Okay, enough griping!

Two more exams this week, stats and Chemistry. I have to remember the entire electron configuration for all elements, including the exceptions like copper and chromium. Betcha didn't even know those guys were exceptions, huh?

Creams and Bread

Haven't been blogging because I have been so dang busy!

I really wanted to take a microbiology course and an organic chemistry course so I could figure out what was going on in my body. Turns out you can't jump into those courses, there are several prerequisites, so I am taking Bio for science majors and General Chemistry, and LOVING IT! Now it has only been a couple weeks, so we are still in the "easy" phase. But I get to go to a lab and do experiments and play with chemicals. I haven't done that since I was 16!

It is a little strange to be in class with people who were born in the 90s and who brag to each other about doing the homework ahead of time, but community college is community college, and it is cheap and close to home.

I might take the courses that really interest me at SMU later, but if I have to choose between paying $400 a course or $150, I am not stupid.

I applied for a marketing position with the university that is part time, so cross your fingers and think good thoughts! If I got that it would be a DREAM come true. It is only two miles from home, exactly what I got my graduate degree in, and I think it would be a fun environment where I could bring a lot to the table!

Radiation has been a breeze so far. It is 15 minutes every day though, and it is getting boring. I have 33 treatments total, and I have completed 13. I haven't had a bad sunburn or anything yet, although sometimes right after it is a little sore to the touch. By the next morning it has disappeared. Here is what the setup looks like.



I am slathering cream on myself like crazy because I have heard horror stories directly from people whose skin is cracked and oozing and just ravaged from the radiation. I use calendula cream, which was recommended to me by another woman who had been through radiation, and Xclair. This cream is ridiculously expensive (the sample below costs $70) so my wonderful radiation nurse hooked me up with a thousand packets of it, so I slather it on like I am a millionaire! It is great, I even use what is left over on my face, and it feels like a baby's behind.

My nosebleeds have pretty much stopped, but tears are still STREAMING out of my eyes. Everyone in class pretty much stays away from me since I always have liquids, either blood or tears, pouring out of my face. It is a little freaky, I suppose.

My husband is baking bread and we are going to watch In the Loop until it comes out of the oven and then I will probably eat it all in one sitting. Hot Fresh Bread. Yum.

saturday night

What is the point of everything we do? Happiness, right? No matter if we want to become a doctor, make a lot of money, loose weight, when we finish asking why is it that we want to do those things, it is to be happy.

Happiness is the one thing everyone wants, the one that that every single person on the planet is working toward. The one thing you have in common with all the other six billion people on the planet. Happiness has been a goal for thousands and thousands of years, yet it still seems to be the most elusive thing in the world for most people I know. Now, I can luckily say, I am very happy, but I bet there is some point in my life where I am not going to feel so happy, and I want to make sure that happens as little as possible.

So I am going to study happiness. I have already read some brilliant books on the subject by several positive psychologists, and some of the revelations are interesting. I shall share as I absorb!

Christmas holidays in Puerto Rico were great, but I am exhausted from the travel (and having low blood counts). I start radiation on Wednesday (it was supposed to be Monday, but whatever), and I am excited for that portion of my treatment to start and be over. I can see a small pinpoint of light at the end of the tunnel!

I am going to take some classes at the community college. Right now, I am just signed up for a Biology course, but I am going to take a math test on Monday (in between my dentist appointment and my blood work in Mesquite) that will hopefully allow me to enter a chemistry class. I am mostly interested in taking organic chemistry and molecular biology (to get a better handle on WTF happened inside my boob), but I have to take those prerequisites first!

Hubby and Mommy arrive tomorrow, so I am going to get a wonderful nights sleep so I can celebrate with my husband about his getting tenure at the university. For those of you who aren't familiar with the academic world and the "publish or perish" dictum, you can publish and still perish by not publishing enough or in the right journals, and get a nice kick in your pants out of the university where you have toiled 5 or more years of your life and be left jobless. That powers at be looked at my hubby's CV, and rather than giving him the boot they invited him to stay at the university for ever and ever! Job security! I don't have to move! I can make a garden! I can get a dog! I can get a job! Possibilities are now endless. Best thing of all, I have a great excuse to buy a nice pinot and have a glass with my baby.

Am I the only one with "pants on the floor" running circles in their head? Looking like a fool with your pants on the floor, pants on the floor . . .