Turn your face to the sun and the shadows fall behind you. - Maori Proverb

Hair: A Photo-Chronology...plus an update!

It has been a LONG time, dear readers. I've been so busy since I started my doctoral program. It is amazing how much I have learned this semester and how happy I am here. I love my doctoral program! Honestly, how many graduate students can say that they "love" their program? I feel pretty darn lucky that's for sure. It is hard work, but I think I finally know where I belong and what I will be doing with my life. Teaching others is so fulfilling to me. I can't wait to get my degree and start my career as a professor.

I was browsing through some of my old entries. Wow, I can't believe how strong I was, especially when I was undergoing treatment. I know this sounds vain, but it is incredible how short my hair was! It's been such a long time, I guess I sortve forgot.

I compiled a mini photo-chronology to show you the changes I've undergone. I love my curly, red hair!! I will never again take it for granted!!

Starting Chemo: The First Buzz Cut, November 2009




















Nothin' there to show! December 2009



















Post-radiation growth. I still didn't have eyebrows or eyelashes. April 2010




















Gettin' longer, but comes back weird and straight at first. Was worried it would stay that way! June 2010




















I had a haircut a couple weeks earlier. Also,I was a rabbit for Halloween that year if you hadn't noticed! October 2010




















Coming along nicely, with CURLS! January 2011




















Lookin' good! May 2011





















Too awesome. July 2011




















Soft ringlets and a royal blue scarf. <3 November 2011

Home, Home on the Range...

Dear Bloggity Blog,

Man, has it been a long time. I am writing to you from my living room in Texas! The trip from Idaho to Texas was long and difficult and I am so happy it is over. I managed the drive by listening to books on tape and lots and lots of energy drinks. When we finally arrived, it felt like we walked into a sauna. We were definitely not accustomed to the heat. Our friend who lives in Fort Worth came by to help us move our furniture in. I am grateful for his help because we were exhausted from the trip and totally dehydrated from the 100+ degree evening weather.

It has taken us a few weeks to get all of our things arranged and for me to get some basic driving routes memorized. I start classes, meetings and teaching only in a couple short weeks. I am nervous but excited for this new chapter to begin. :) Wish me luck!

DONE

What a crappy last day, but at least it is over! I had to walk around today, trying to get people to sign up for Old Navy credit cards. That's it. Nothing else. I wasnt even permitted to fold. Luckily, the store's traffic died down quite a bit so I became unneeded. They let me go home early! I am just so glad that I didn't have to stay. DONE FOREVERRRRRRRRR YESSSSS

Now I can focus on all the darned packing I've got to do!

Queer-dar malfunction

You know, after being in a long-term committed relationship you kind of forget what it like when someone asks you for a date/hits on you. I go to the dog park almost every day and I'm often friendly with the other dog-parents. A couple of weeks ago, I exchanged numbers with another dog-park goer after she invited me to dinner with her and her friends. I was visiting family when she texted me, asking if I wanted to go out that night. Today, we saw each other again at the dog park and, naturally, we started talking again. Her 9 year old basset hound is not doing well (suspected chronic illness) and so I like to ask how things are going with him. Somehow we got to talking about how people resemble their dogs, both physically and personality-wise. I laughed saying, "Well, I don't know what Oliver says about me!" She smiled right at me and says, "Well, he's a big flirt!" I suddenly realized how ignorant I had been. She's been hitting on me! I just brushed it off and made some sort of joke about how her dog always begs for scratches.
Man, is my queer-dar rusty..

Counting down

63 days until graduate school orientation
17 days until moving day
6 days until my horrible retail job is over

Curse this horrid job

All of the rude customers.
The mind-numbing folding.
All of the trips back and forth to the sales floor,
Sweat-inducing labor and toil.
Asking, "Would you like to sign up for an Old Navy Card today and save 10% on your purchase today?"
Those goddamned plastic hangers...


I want to quit my job.

Helpful Hints for Old Navy Shoppers

Dear Old Navy Shoppers, please stop the following immediately:

1. Acting like the store is your personal closet. This means don't ball unwanted clothes up, throw them into a pile or leaving bodily fluids on them. We don't have a washer/dryer.

2. Treating associates like slaves. We're not here to hold your clothing for you while you try things on or dote on you. We can't ignore all the other customers and we're getting paid WAYYYY to little to be your personal stylist.

3. Ignoring the signs and price tickets. Just read the sign. It explains everything you need to know. Consider retaking remedial math or carry a calculator to figure out our very basic discounts.

4. Bringing your brats (a.k.a.: grandchildren, kids, nieces, nephews etc). They pull shit off the shelves, get sticky snack crap everywhere and climb on clothing racks.

5. Complaining about the prices. We already have cheap, cheap prices. Don't ask for additional discounts for things in the super-duper clearance sections. It's as far down in price as we can go. Does it really matter when last year's sweaters are $0.67, anyway?

6. Leaving your finished Starbucks, Jamba Juice, Jack-in-the-Box cups on the shelves. Nasty, gross. Just disgusting. WE HAVE TRASH BINS.

7. Being offended when we say hi or ask if you need anything. We are REQUIRED to do this and if we don't, we get a poor review. We're not going to keep hounding you if you just say hi back and say that you're finding everything okay or that you don't need help. You don't need to be rude about it.

8. Commenting that our job is easy or that it isn't hard work. Obviously you have never worked retail. You'd be surprised to learn that I'm working a back-breaking, patience-testing and intellectually vapid position as a cancer survivor with a Master's degree. I would choose a day of chemo or a challenging, advanced degree over retail work ANY day.

9. Asking when our next clearance sale is. Sales associate monkeys, like myself, have no way of knowing this. We walk in and get told what sales/deals are happening. We get zero ahead notice.

10. Asking me if I like this or that. I have no idea what to say. Even when I do, the customers never agree with me anyway. My default from now on is, "yes" no matter how damned hideous it looks on you. It is much easier to just lie from now on.

11. Getting angry if we ask for your email address at check-out. Again, this is something we are required to ask for and you DO get a coupon. If you don't want it just say, "No thank you". Don't act like it is invasive that we asked or assume that we're trying to scam you. TRUST ME, I don't like the idea either and I don't want to type in your girly, 10th grade email address or perverted, web-stalker pedophile screen name, such as unicorn_fluppypuppy_rainbow_chickk@hotmail.com or thick_n_hard69@yahoo.com.

12. Hanging things up for us instead of letting the fitting room attendant do it. I know that this isn't something that you do maliciously and in a perfect world, it would be very very helpful. Please listen: IT ISN'T. When you leave with things, we assume you're going to buy them. When you hang them back up, you're not going to hang them properly, then things get tangled (especially tank tops, swim suits, spaghetti strap dresses and such), improperly folded, misplaced, or they end up on the floor, only to get soiled. We have to sweep through the departments and then rearrange, process and fix all of the things that get broken, tangled or mis-sorted through this process. It takes us MORE time to do that than if you just left the things you didn't want with me. Also, we get docked points on our CES reports for a messy, unorganized store. Just let the professionals hang things up to the corporate standard.

13. Assuming that just because something was on the table with so and so discount doesn't necessarily mean that it is guaranteed to get the discount. Sometimes messy customers like yourself will just drop crap on to the discount table. Don't get angry with us at check-out and try to squeeze a discount out of it just because an item was misplaced. It's not going to happen.

14. Asking us if item X is going to shrink. If it is 100% cotton, what do you think? Try washing it in cold water, air drying it, or using Woolite instead of just randomly tossing it into the washer with boiling hot water. In sum: Take care of your clothes, people.


15. Returning items from last Christmas. Please, dear god, just try things on before you buy them or try to expediently get your lazy butt back into the nearest Old Navy when you have a return. You are NOT getting the full ticket price refund when its over 2-years old. It's hardly worth it for us to do the mark-down and put it back into the clearance section.

16. Interrupting the check-out process with last minute decisions and nay-says. Examine the stuff you got before you get to the check out line. It takes us so much more time to get you through when you keep changing your mind about items. Don't just throw stuff into your bag. Carefully think about each thing you're buying before going up to purchase it.

17. Assuming that I am of lower intelligence because I work a retail job. Yeah, sure, this is a job for banal high school students but I just so happen to be, unfortunately, living in a small town and between finishing my Master's degree and starting a Ph.D. program this fall. I just need something to pay the bills until then, so at least don't assume anything, pay me a little respect and don't talk to me like I'm an idiot.

18. Ignoring the other effing signs. Do you know how much time I waste per shift taking a customer by the hand like a two year old and guiding them to the bathroom or fitting rooms? Even if they are less than 10 feet away? WE HAVE SIGNSSSSSSSS

How to Answer "What's it like to have cancer?"

I love this. It sums up everything I want and need to say to people who ask me, "What was it like to have cancer?"


The Spoon Theory

by Christine Miserandino
My best friend and I were in the diner, talking. As usual, it was very late and we were eating French fries with gravy. Like normal girls our age, we spent a lot of time in the diner while in college, and most of the time we spent talking about boys, music or trivial things, that seemed very important at the time. We never got serious about anything in particular and spent most of our time laughing.


As I went to take some of my medicine with a snack as I usually did, she watched me with an awkward kind of stare, instead of continuing the conversation. She then asked me out of the blue what it felt like to have Lupus and be sick. I was shocked not only because she asked the random question, but also because I assumed she knew all there was to know about Lupus. She came to doctors with me, she saw me walk with a cane, and throw up in the bathroom. She had seen me cry in pain, what else was there to know?

I started to ramble on about pills, and aches and pains, but she kept pursuing, and didn’t seem satisfied with my answers. I was a little surprised as being my roommate in college and friend for years; I thought she already knew the medical definition of Lupus. Then she looked at me with a face every sick person knows well, the face of pure curiosity about something no one healthy can truly understand. She asked what it felt like, not physically, but what it felt like to be me, to be sick.

As I tried to gain my composure, I glanced around the table for help or guidance, or at least stall for time to think. I was trying to find the right words. How do I answer a question I never was able to answer for myself? How do I explain every detail of every day being effected, and give the emotions a sick person goes through with clarity. I could have given up, cracked a joke like I usually do, and changed the subject, but I remember thinking if I don’t try to explain this, how could I ever expect her to understand. If I can’t explain this to my best friend, how could I explain my world to anyone else? I had to at least try.

At that moment, the spoon theory was born. I quickly grabbed every spoon on the table; hell I grabbed spoons off of the other tables. I looked at her in the eyes and said “Here you go, you have Lupus”. She looked at me slightly confused, as anyone would when they are being handed a bouquet of spoons. The cold metal spoons clanked in my hands, as I grouped them together and shoved them into her hands.

I explained that the difference in being sick and being healthy is having to make choices or to consciously think about things when the rest of the world doesn’t have to. The healthy have the luxury of a life without choices, a gift most people take for granted.

Most people start the day with unlimited amount of possibilities, and energy to do whatever they desire, especially young people. For the most part, they do not need to worry about the effects of their actions. So for my explanation, I used spoons to convey this point. I wanted something for her to actually hold, for me to then take away, since most people who get sick feel a “loss” of a life they once knew. If I was in control of taking away the spoons, then she would know what it feels like to have someone or something else, in this case Lupus, being in control.

She grabbed the spoons with excitement. She didn’t understand what I was doing, but she is always up for a good time, so I guess she thought I was cracking a joke of some kind like I usually do when talking about touchy topics. Little did she know how serious I would become?

I asked her to count her spoons. She asked why, and I explained that when you are healthy you expect to have a never-ending supply of “spoons”. But when you have to now plan your day, you need to know exactly how many “spoons” you are starting with. It doesn’t guarantee that you might not lose some along the way, but at least it helps to know where you are starting. She counted out 12 spoons. She laughed and said she wanted more. I said no, and I knew right away that this little game would work, when she looked disappointed, and we hadn’t even started yet. I’ve wanted more “spoons” for years and haven’t found a way yet to get more, why should she? I also told her to always be conscious of how many she had, and not to drop them because she can never forget she has Lupus.

I asked her to list off the tasks of her day, including the most simple. As, she rattled off daily chores, or just fun things to do; I explained how each one would cost her a spoon. When she jumped right into getting ready for work as her first task of the morning, I cut her off and took away a spoon. I practically jumped down her throat. I said ” No! You don’t just get up. You have to crack open your eyes, and then realize you are late. You didn’t sleep well the night before. You have to crawl out of bed, and then you have to make your self something to eat before you can do anything else, because if you don’t, you can’t take your medicine, and if you don’t take your medicine you might as well give up all your spoons for today and tomorrow too.” I quickly took away a spoon and she realized she hasn’t even gotten dressed yet. Showering cost her spoon, just for washing her hair and shaving her legs. Reaching high and low that early in the morning could actually cost more than one spoon, but I figured I would give her a break; I didn’t want to scare her right away. Getting dressed was worth another spoon. I stopped her and broke down every task to show her how every little detail needs to be thought about. You cannot simply just throw clothes on when you are sick. I explained that I have to see what clothes I can physically put on, if my hands hurt that day buttons are out of the question. If I have bruises that day, I need to wear long sleeves, and if I have a fever I need a sweater to stay warm and so on. If my hair is falling out I need to spend more time to look presentable, and then you need to factor in another 5 minutes for feeling badly that it took you 2 hours to do all this.

I think she was starting to understand when she theoretically didn’t even get to work, and she was left with 6 spoons. I then explained to her that she needed to choose the rest of her day wisely, since when your “spoons” are gone, they are gone. Sometimes you can borrow against tomorrow’s “spoons”, but just think how hard tomorrow will be with less “spoons”. I also needed to explain that a person who is sick always lives with the looming thought that tomorrow may be the day that a cold comes, or an infection, or any number of things that could be very dangerous. So you do not want to run low on “spoons”, because you never know when you truly will need them. I didn’t want to depress her, but I needed to be realistic, and unfortunately being prepared for the worst is part of a real day for me.

We went through the rest of the day, and she slowly learned that skipping lunch would cost her a spoon, as well as standing on a train, or even typing at her computer too long. She was forced to make choices and think about things differently. Hypothetically, she had to choose not to run errands, so that she could eat dinner that night.

When we got to the end of her pretend day, she said she was hungry. I summarized that she had to eat dinner but she only had one spoon left. If she cooked, she wouldn’t have enough energy to clean the pots. If she went out for dinner, she might be too tired to drive home safely. Then I also explained, that I didn’t even bother to add into this game, that she was so nauseous, that cooking was probably out of the question anyway. So she decided to make soup, it was easy. I then said it is only 7pm, you have the rest of the night but maybe end up with one spoon, so you can do something fun, or clean your apartment, or do chores, but you can’t do it all.

I rarely see her emotional, so when I saw her upset I knew maybe I was getting through to her. I didn’t want my friend to be upset, but at the same time I was happy to think finally maybe someone understood me a little bit. She had tears in her eyes and asked quietly “Christine, How do you do it? Do you really do this everyday?” I explained that some days were worse then others; some days I have more spoons then most. But I can never make it go away and I can’t forget about it, I always have to think about it. I handed her a spoon I had been holding in reserve. I said simply, “I have learned to live life with an extra spoon in my pocket, in reserve. You need to always be prepared.”

Its hard, the hardest thing I ever had to learn is to slow down, and not do everything. I fight this to this day. I hate feeling left out, having to choose to stay home, or to not get things done that I want to. I wanted her to feel that frustration. I wanted her to understand, that everything everyone else does comes so easy, but for me it is one hundred little jobs in one. I need to think about the weather, my temperature that day, and the whole day’s plans before I can attack any one given thing. When other people can simply do things, I have to attack it and make a plan like I am strategizing a war. It is in that lifestyle, the difference between being sick and healthy. It is the beautiful ability to not think and just do. I miss that freedom. I miss never having to count “spoons”.

After we were emotional and talked about this for a little while longer, I sensed she was sad. Maybe she finally understood. Maybe she realized that she never could truly and honestly say she understands. But at least now she might not complain so much when I can’t go out for dinner some nights, or when I never seem to make it to her house and she always has to drive to mine. I gave her a hug when we walked out of the diner. I had the one spoon in my hand and I said “Don’t worry. I see this as a blessing. I have been forced to think about everything I do. Do you know how many spoons people waste everyday? I don’t have room for wasted time, or wasted “spoons” and I chose to spend this time with you.”

Ever since this night, I have used the spoon theory to explain my life to many people. In fact, my family and friends refer to spoons all the time. It has been a code word for what I can and cannot do. Once people understand the spoon theory they seem to understand me better, but I also think they live their life a little differently too. I think it isn’t just good for understanding Lupus, but anyone dealing with any disability or illness. Hopefully, they don’t take so much for granted or their life in general. I give a piece of myself, in every sense of the word when I do anything. It has become an inside joke. I have become famous for saying to people jokingly that they should feel special when I spend time with them, because they have one of my “spoons”.

© Christine Miserandino

http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/articles/written-by-christine/the-spoon-theory-written-by-christine-miserandino/

Only in Idaho

This interesting interaction occurred while I was buying an energy drink at a convenience store.

Cashier: "Will that be all?"

Me: "Yep, that's it."

Creepster Trucker in line behind me: "I had one of those energy drinks the other day, except it tasted like lemonade. Yup...tasted good with rum."

Me: "....."


Only in Idaho.

The joys (and woes) of working retail

So, you know that I'm working at Old Navy for the summer. I just started last week and today I was getting trained in the fitting room. My trainer was going through how to hang items properly (called "processing"), how to re-tag merchandise, returning unwanted items to the sales floor and how to help customers find other sizes and colors. A young lady comes in with an armful of bikinis and I, naturally, greet her and open up a fitting room for her. After several minutes, I walk by her room and ask her if she needs a different size or color. She hands me a bikini bottom and asks for another size in that color. The runner assisting me goes to fetch the new size and I start processing the unwanted pile of clothes. When I get to the bikini she tried on, it had been thoroughly soiled with...god...who knows what that was. Menstrual blood? Poo? It took me all of my strength to expediently grab a plastic bag and wash my hands without barfing right then and there. I didn't want to embarrass the customer, so I asked her if everything fit alright and she just smiled and piled on the other unwanted items. Lo and behold, I find ANOTHER with some more disgusting fluids on it. I simply CAN'T BELIEVE that she would just return the items like that to me, piling it on top of other, clean and perfectly good merchandise. I bag that up ASAP and tell my leader what I found. She laughed, apparently totally grossed out too, saying, "That happens a lot. Just mark it as damaged and we'll get rid of it". ughhhhhhhh *shudder* THIS is why I hate, hate, hate retail.

But then there are some days where it is just downright hilarious to be working in retail. Okay, so it's my first day working on the cash register. I've been told that men are very different from women when they shop. If men can't find something, they won't ask. They'll just drop everything and leave without so much as a peep. If they don't see it displayed in an outfit on a mannequin, it is pretty unlikely that they'll actually be able to put anything together independently. So, back to the cash register. Add this story to the weird things men do when they shop: Two guys walk up with merchandise, chatting. They place their items on the register. I ask, "Are these items together?" thinking that maybe the friend was picking up the other's purchase. The two of them state in strong unison, "NO", reaching for their items and separating them so they're not touching on the register's table. I had to laugh, because me asking if the two clothing items were to be purchased at the same time was like I was asking them if THEY were together. They had to prove just how now gay they were by taking two steps away from each other and look in different directions, holding their items separately. It's like the two guy friends that can't go to the movies and sit next to each other without it being "gay", so they sit at least two seats apart from each other just so it doesn't look strange to others.

Oh retail.. How I haven't missed you.

The "Cancer Patient" Label

PROCEED WITH CAUTION: Possible triggers plus a dash feminist rage.
--------------------------------------

The best class I ever took at Smith was Medical Sociology. Since having cancer, I've been reading up on the sociology of illness and it helped me cope with the "cancer" label that seems to follow me everywhere I go. It's true that illnesses dictate social scripts; the "sick" and the "well" are supposed to act in very specific ways. I definitely don't fit the script for the typical "cancer survivor" and usually societal forces are constantly trying to pull me back into the "sick" role with the constant pity and inappropriate questions and comments.

Cancer seems to be very important in our culture. Watching television commercials for fundraisers such as "Race for the Cure", for breast cancer awareness/research, is a fantastic example of how individuals with cancer are portrayed and perceived by our society. We are expected to be spiritual, humble, grateful, optimistic, quiet, calm, sorrowful and passive in our demands. We are expected to welcome the inquiries regarding our health and treatment, no matter how invasive. (I can't recall the number of times people ask me an offensive question ending with, "You don't mind, do you?") We're expected to be in either a state of extreme sorrow or extreme optimism. We're not allowed to experience the vast spectrum of human emotions. If we have a bad day/angry/frustrated, we're supposed to just "feel lucky to be alive". If we're too happy/optimistic, we have to remember how bad it was/is to have cancer and how "sick" we really are inside. Remember, cancer survivors, it could come back any time! We are expected to inform everyone around us, even strangers, of our cancer/survivor status and what kind of cancer we have. Why is that? Is having cancer a marginalized status? I can't decide for sure having experienced a variety of reactions; but I am beginning to believe that being a "sick person", more specifically a "sick woman", is a marginalized status. (Not to mention that I am also a "sick Queer woman", but my Queer status almost never surfaces unless my physician asks about my sexual history or I mention a past relationship)

The dental tech made it a spectacle. My primary doctor that discovered my cancer had no empathy. My oncologists assumed that, having female organs and presenting as a woman, that I wished to preserve my eggs/ovaries for pregnancy/birth. My parents' friends and even other cancer survivors pity me because of my age. People exclaim with surprise if my cancer status comes up and then say "I'm so sorry.." (lol, I'm not dead, people!). Some point at the keloid scar that was once the location of my port and ask me how I got that "nasty scar" on my chest. Neighbors sometimes get our mail accidentally and when they knock to return to me, they casually ask why I'm getting letters from Seattle Cancer Care Alliance. There are even hierarchies within the types of cancer and choices in treatment. When I tell people I had Hodgkin's Lymphoma, they scoff and say that its easy to treat/was the first type of cancer ever treated/very responsive to treatment.. blah blah blah. Yeah, but it was cancer. Cancer is cancer and it is never easy.

It seems that the majority of mainstream resources for cancer survivors are the Chicken-Soup variety, rather than the science-driven knowledge that we crave and need to maintain healthy lives and make decisions about our care/treatment. While yes, the touchy-feely books can be helpful (I have a couple myself), they closely align with our expectations of the sick; to be concerned with the soul, spirit and quality of our (remaining) life as if we have a shrinking Bucket List to fulfill before we kick it. I'm expected to "make every moment count". I can't waste my time with frivolous things nor can I live on "borrowed time" as my grandmother constantly reminds me.

Along that line, people usually ask WHEN (not if) I'm having children since I'm in a monogamous relationship with a man. While I'm in remission, I should probably try to squeeze out a few puppies before I become utterly useless. For many sick women, illness/treatments often impact the essential roles that female bodied people are expected to play in society, especially the expectation that they fulfill child-bearing functions. When radiation threatens our ovaries, we are expected to want to "save our womanhood" with invasive ovarian shielding surgeries (http://www.uptodate.com/contents/oophoropexy-and-ovarian-transposition) and when chemotherapy affects our reproductive system, it is referred to as "ovarian failure". Why is it a 'failure'? When we have breast cancer, we are expected to choose less successful surgical options to preserve the shape and appeal of our breast(s) instead of procedures that secure a clean margin of error. Afterwards, we stare in the mirror at our bodies permanently marked by scars, skin discoloration, and the remains of medical devices, wondering if we will still be sexually appealing to our partners. Wondering if we will ever feel whole again. If we can't save our breast(s) or preserve our youth, we feel like half-women, damaged women, useless women. Conversely, if you're an openly lesbian woman, your breasts, uterus and ovaries are assumed to be of no use in the heteronormative context of medicine and therefore assumed to be of no consequence to you, the cancer patient. Because you're gay, you're assumed to have no interest in pregnancy. You won't use it any way, right? How you look after treatment doesn't matter to you since you're a lesbian.

How do you explain? How do you cope with the constant inquiries and assumptions? Why does cancer hold such sway? Why can't we as a society find a balance among empathy, privacy and equity?

"Sick" female-bodied people and women just can't win in this institution. I can't speak beyond my own experiences, but I am sure that there are other unique barriers that people with cancer experience, complicated by their relative status in the social hierarchy. One thing is for sure; the "cancer patient" label is here to stay.

Triggering Comment

I went in to see the dentist to get an impression of my teeth. I grind my teeth at night, causing me to have severe neck, jaw and forehead pain. So, I'm getting a small retainer to help prevent me from grinding my teeth at night. I had just finished getting the impressions done and the dental tech was scheduling a fitting appointment for me. She typed in my name, asking me to verify how it was spelled and began scrolling through what was apparently my file.

After a short pause, she said aloud, "WOW! Heart murmur...chemotherapy...radiation?! That's the sort of stuff you see in OLD people. How old ARE you?"
I was shocked, but still answered her question, "...26".
"You're young! You've been through A LOT! Cancer's all gone now, right?", she said handing me an appointment card.
"Yeah."

I left the dentist feeling horribly violated and felt as if my personal history was on spectacle for this woman. I know that she meant well, but it was hurtful, triggering and painful for me to have someone compare my state of health to that of an old, frail person. Don't you think that might make someone feel pretty damned bad, being reminded of how sickly their body is? It is not appropriate to openly discuss that person's medical history at the appointment desk, especially if it was not relevant to the task at hand, which was to make a follow-up appointment for a retainer. It would have been totally different had it been relevant to my treatment and was discussed in the private treatment rooms, LIKE NORMAL MEDICAL PROCEDURE. Why is it that everyone thinks it is okay to practically announce my past cancer diagnosis, make it the point of conversation or assume that I want to talk about it with a stranger? Having had cancer and go through treatment is no fucking victory for me. Ask me ANYTHING else! Do I have pets? What do you do? Are you a student? What does your partner do? What TV shows do you watch? ET CETERA. How hard is it to choose something else to discuss while you're waiting with a patient?

Rude, rude, rude. I will definitely be sending them a letter.

Path to the Ph.D.

Dear readers,

I am totally psyched to start my doctoral program this fall, but the cost of rent, books, supplies and such is starting to add up. Check out my fundraising page and forward it along to those who'd like to donate. Help me reach my goals!

http://www.edulender.com/college-tuition-fundraising/Susan.Schmitt/

or consider helping me buy some of the books I will need for school:

http://www.amazon.com/gp/registry/wishlist/SHP0Y28CEWF4/ref=lst_llp_wl-head

(http://www.marriedtothesea.com/041311/)

Jumping back on the Gap ® Bandwagon

I'm gainfully employed for the summer, which means I'll be able to save up some money for the move in July. Whew! I know that I said I would never go back to retail, but there is literally NOTHING out here. I can't wait to move to some place new with more opportunities. The employee discount will definitely come in handy when I need to buy clothes for teaching!

Happy Cancer-versary!

Take a peek at my new shoulder tattoo celebrating my year of being cancer remission!

Post-Defense Updates

Hi all! I successfully passed my defense and am now finished with my M.A.!! YAYY!! I'm pretty happy about being finished, but I have a long way to go until I get to Texas. David and I have been crunching some numbers and with his new job, once he starts, we will be living much more comfortably than we ever have. I am so happy and relieved to hear this because honestly, folks. I am tired of scraping and scavenging.

So far, I'm feeling pretty good health-wise. The radiation that was done to my neck/jaw area has, unfortunately, has helped decay back back molars. I will need dental work done before I leave for Texas. I'm a little worried about being able to afford more dental work (it was over 2k last time) and I'm just hoping and praying on that summer job I so desperately need.

Sometimes, I wish that someone would come and wave a magic wand over my life and make all of these problems go away. I don't want to be sick anymore and I think I deserve at least A FEW WEEKS without a medical problem cropping up.

ARRGGHHHH I hate you, cancer.

My medical insurance covers "injury to sound, natural teeth". I'm wondering if my teeth issues can be covered if it is categorized as radiation-induced? I sure as heck hope so, because it would be too much for me to pay right now. *sigh* FALL CAN'T COME SOON ENOUGH. David and I will be both gainfully employed full time and I will have decent health and dental insurance; not this crap student insurance.

I've heard of this new phenomenon called "cyber begging"; where you post your financial woes and people donate funds to you. I'm seriously considering it at this point, because I don't think I can cough up the extra cash to get dental work done.

False Alarm

AW HELL.
Apparently, the committee needs to reschedule my defense. I've been scrambling to prepare, but it's being put off again.
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UPDATE: Defense is officially April 8th at 1:00pm

Procrastinating

I defend on the 23rd and I've been working on my defense notes and arguments. They'll tell me immediately after the defense if I have passed or not. I am just SO ready to get this over with...
It's not that I'm not ready or anything like that; if anything, I think I am much more prepared than 95% of the students who are defending at this point in time.

Over-prepared? probably.
Nervous? yes.

The Countdown: 5 days

Sorry, dear readers! Only 5 days until I defend. I'm busy but I'll post more about it after, FINALLY, finishing my M.A.

6 days

..until my thesis is due.

Naturally, I made a pie and did the dishes. NBD.

I should be freaking out.

Acceptance post in all capital letters

OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

I got in.

:)


OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG


OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMGGGG

Grad School Issues

Soooo its been a while since I heard from TWU and I found out that I can track my application status online. So, I started an online account and saw that it said "incomplete". Panicked, I emailed admissions and they told me that I was "missing" my GRE scores.

Wait. What?

The department website doesn't require GRE scores! Apparently admissions "messed up" with regards to my application status and my materials should be allowed to be reviewed by the department now. WTF, seriously? If the department made decisions already, I might be royally F'ed. I'm most definitely going to inquire about the reasons for rejection if I get a denial letter. auuughhhhh seriously people!!

I won't be able to relax until I hear back...

Home, Home on the Range!

Texas is really flat, hot and dusty. But I think I like it. :)

I had a really great interview for the doctoral program. The interviewer at the academic preview asked if I had heard back from the department yet and when I said no, she said she would "talk to the Director" about my application. She also mentioned that I have "a lot to offer the department". :) Please, please, please let that be a positive sign. PLEASE.

At this point, one way or the other, I just want to know. I'm dying because today, there was no mail due to the holiday. Tomorrow, the mail resumes and I am hoping, hoping, HOPING that something will come tomorrow.

I need it to come soon or I'm going to start ripping my hair out.

Top Ten Things You Should Never Say to Cancer Patients/Survivors

1. "Everything happens for a reason." What was the reason for me having this horrible disease, again?

2. "You'll be fine." So, now you have a crystal ball..




3. "I know how you feel!" I'm pretty sure you don't...

4. "You're finished with chemo/radiation? I bet you're glad THAT'S over!" No shit, Sherlock.

5. "You should keep a positive attitude and relax blah blah blah..." We hear the mind over body shit a zillion times a day by people who've never had cancer. We're tired of hearing it.

6. "We can beat this!" It's just me facing cancer here.

7. "Feeling tired/nauseated/whathaveyou? Then try this new_________". We simply DON'T NEED outside advice. Almost 100% of the time, those new fangled medications, foods, exotic supplements never work and can actually be harmful. We have oncologists, so we don't need your advice.

8. "If there's anything I can do for you, just let me know." Thanks. Really helpful. How about offering your time and talents instead of placing the burden of asking for help on the patient?

9. "Believe in miracles!" I just simply hate this saying and it is completely unhelpful; as if I'm supposed to wait for an act of god or something?

10. "What was having cancer like?" Oh yeah, It was greeeeaaaat!

"...For your in-flight entertainment"

Okay, the important things first:

1. CT was clear. No little beasties coming back or anything!
2. It has been exactly a year since I finished chemotherapy treatment
3. I am ridiculously tired right now..haven't slept a WINK yet!
4. I AM WRITING THIS BLOG POST FROM AN AIRPLANE!!!!

I'm on my way to the open house at TWU and I'm flying into DFW. Unfortunately, the night before, I had a conference proposal and abstract due and I stayed up all night finishing my submission. At this point, I have no idea what I wrote. I feel like it was all babble, but it probably made sense at the time.

Also of extreme importance: 9 bucks for in-flight internet = TOTALLY WORTH IT.

It's amazing how the internet can make you feel human again.

Post-treatment Thingys and Gross Rantings

Hey cancer babes and allies,

I've been noticing some post-treatment side effects. The docs said that I should expect it, but hey, a gal can dream, right?

In addition to this LOVELY consolation prize... (yeah thats a keloid scar where my port used to be)



I get a random a dry cough. YAY! Nothing can be done about it, seeing has how my lung tissue has been scarred. Also, the color of my skin between my shoulders is now a slightly different tint than the skin that didn't get radiated. It's in this lovely box-like shape that will never go away. You know that tiny sheen of peach fuzz normal human beings sometimes have on their necks (well, people without facial hair)? Where they radiated my throat and chest the hair follicles died. I now have this really neat and visibly obvious pattern where hair clearly grows and does not grow. Great...partial allopecia of the neck hair. Why couldn't they have radiated my upper lip instead? Starting to look like Frida Khalo; although...that might not be a bad thing?

Ohhhh yes. And the fatigue and insomnia patterns. The energy levels have definitely improved, but I don't think I will ever be the same old Susie as I was before. I have racing thoughts sometimes and then there are other times when you couldn't drag me out of bed even if there was a fire or my thesis got accidentally shredded.

I swear, its like my body has never given me the chance to just be healthy and normal looking...ever. I'm going to be one of those people that always has something going on with their bodies, always some new fangled medication or surgery that I need to get. In searching for advice for surgery procedures, I've seen some of the biggest whiners. Granted, they've probably never been through what I had to go through, so I give them some credit, but COME ON! Crying about wisdom teeth removal and fear of "not waking up" after the procedure?!??!

If I could give them just a couple of moments of my time, I'd tell them about the great chest device I had INSTALLED INTO MY NECK AND HEART and the wonderful "pulling" sensation I remember WHILE I WAS AWAKE FOR THE PROCEDURE. It's a sensation that, when reminiscing, sends icky chills down my spine and gives me goosebumps. I would have given anything to have my wisdom teeth removed instead of this whole, oh you know, cancer thing. I'm not trying to knock people's fears, but seriously folks, they give you a pill and you forget the whole thing. A few hours later, you wake-up on your couch with reruns of Seinfeld blaring in the fuzzy background that is your consciousness. Plus you get to eat all sorts of yummy pureed things whereas with cancer, you'd be lucky to get down a half a can of Ensure.

Let's see, I also have these broken capillaries underneath my eyelids that give off a blackish/yellow tinge as a result of chemo. Usually I cover them up with a brightener, but still...another great long-term side effect. My nails are also ridiculously brittle and like to peel. I have to keep them constantly painted to prevent the chipping or breaking from getting too serious. Similarly, my skin feels like it will never get moisturized. I drink lots of water, exfoliate and moisturize at home, but it will never feel the same. *sigh* I just wish I could be a normal human being and not like a medical experiment gone terribly wrong.

Oh, random fact about ABVD treatment. I can NEVER go scuba diving or mountain climbing for the rest of my life. Apparently, being exposed to one of these drugs makes using oxygen intense devices like scuba gear dangerous and poses a risk to blowing up my lung or something equally as horrendous!

Ahhhh yes, cancer: The gift that keeps on giving.

Haters they gonna hate..

Sometimes, I just need to vent. I don't need advice.

I think this quote I saw on a billboard in town says enough, "A closed mouth gathers no foot".

Check out my hair!

IT'S BACK, BABY AND SEXIER THAN EVER! (also, check out my new cat-eye glasses!)



The few, the proud, the over-educated: Women graduate students.

i become doctor now, yus?

This month has been a sheer shit-show and I am exhausted. I just finished the most grueling month and a half, during which time I completed my doctoral application for TWU. Things are looking a bit more promising since I last posted about Ph.D. programs and hopefully, come March, I'll have some good news for you all.

Some people will say it is foolish to apply to only one Ph.D. program, but honestly, if this is my dream program, then why not? If I don't get in, I'll just work for a year, build up my CV and experience, and reapply. I really want to get into this program and I think I've done as much as I can to improve my chances. I'm not sure that a second M.A. would be the best route for me. Either way, I'll have options.

I've been combing the internet, looking for some advice on funding. I don't know how private universities work with regards to doctoral student funding or if I should have sent a teaching portfolio along with my application. Maybe I'll have to dig some more or try connecting with folks currently in the Ph.D. program.

Anyway, while browsing facebook, I randomly decided to search for the director of the Ph.D. program AND SHE HAS A FB PROFILE. I felt this sudden urge to friend her, but what if she friended me and I didn't get in? Uhm, that'd be super awkward. What if she friended me and saw something she didn't like on my profile or something and then was all turned off by my application?? Not that I have anything on there to deter her. >.> <.<
I wager that she only friends current students and such. I'm thinking it was probably best that I didn't friend her on FB.

I'm planning on going to the TWU open house and I'm wondering if I should try contacting the director of the program to let them know I'll be there. I know they don't offer interviews, but maybe it would be a good thing to place a face with an application and show how crazy dedicated I am?? I'm going to give everything a week or so to simmer before I email the director because I don't want to look like I am pestering people. I think it is probably wise to let the deadline pass before popping your head up to say hello and bombard them with requests to chat in person. Also, OMFG I would be terrified.. I'll have to work on calming down and deciding on questions to ask and such if this nightmare were to become a reality. I'm totally paranoid of giving the wrong impression or looking like a newb.

Please, please, PLEASE cross your fingers for me. I really want this.

oh hello, world

Busy, busy, BUSY. That is the story of my life these days.

I looked back, oh, two or three posts and wow..I can't believe how much time has passed since my last scan. My onco told me last time that the CT was clean and that the remaining scar tissue around my heart was shrinking. (And this time I'll keep it off!! hah!) Hopefully, by the end of the month, I will have the same or better news to share with all of you.

From time to time, I have "OMFGWTFBBQ!!!1" moments where every little ache, pain, itch or cough sends shock-waves of terror through my brain. All you cancer survivors out there know the whole deal, right? The "OMGIMIGHTHAVECANCERAGAIN!! WHATAMIGONNAGDO?!?" moments when you see on your calendar that your scan is coming up again or you get a random, one-time coughing fit. Usually, a good cry with my hubby and puppy is a enough to release my fears and get the courage to keep going.

School is...well, school. :D I am trying, fervently, to finish everything in time. I got an email from my committee advisor who reminded me that I have plenty of time to finish my degree this semester. Getting her email was like heaven; it released all of my anxiety about getting things done and gave me renewed confidence in my work. I so desperately needed that . I'm attempting to finish my applications for doctoral programs this month (!!!!OMG!!). I only really want to go to one particular program. If I don't get in, I'll reapply until I do. But I really REALLY REALLY!!! want to go. I cannot wait any longer to fulfill my dreams; cancer reminded me of that, for sure. You cancer babes know what I'm talking about.

Speaking of cancer babes, I am sorry to report that my mother was recently re-diagnosed with breast cancer.

Her treatments have been very harsh and everything right now is so uncertain. She was admitted to the hospital a few days ago for extreme dehydration and pneumonia. So far, everything seems to be improving and she's gained some much needed weight on her new nutritional plan.

Celebrate small victories, right folks?

Right. *sigh*

This just reminds me of the unrelenting nature of cancer and the importance of your dreams, aspirations, health and self-care.