Okay, this could be the thing of nightmares. I’m sorry, but there are just some men who should never been seen in public without a shirt.

Every day, on my way to work, I drive along the Lincoln Memorial Drive, which runs along Lake Michigan. Mornings ain’t so bad. But when coming home, the park is teaming with runners, skaters and walkers. And the infamous guy (or two or three or four) who seem to feel very comfortable in their bodies. I’m not talking about the guy with a little pouch out front, a little loose skin that they’re obviously walking and/or running in order to firm up. I’m talking about the guy who really (REALLY) loves his beer. The guy wearing the shorts that you can barely see the front of because his belly is hanging over it and who has more defined breasts than I do.

I have no doubt their presence in the park is an attempt to tone up their bodies … and more power to them. But puh-leese! Do it with your shirt on. At least until you lose some of that poundage.

And don’t even get me started on muffin tops. That’s a topic for next week’s bitch session.

I’m finding that if I allow myself to think too much about my cancer situation, I really can depress myself. After I found out about Round Eight two weeks ago, I gave myself a weekend to do nothing but veg. I went to Rio (a tiny town in Central Wisconsin) where my brother has a trailer on a campground and did absolutely nothing but relax, eat and read.

Know what? It also gave me far too much time to think. I found myself mulling of my past treatments, the surgeries, the daily meds, the scans … everything. In the past I think I’d become a bit of an expert of ignoring things until its necessary to address them. I don’t shy from the situation, I just shuffle it to the back of my head, deal with every day things and when it becomes necessary, deal with the cancer issue.

Which reminds me. I gotta arrange to get a mammogram done. Ick.

I understand how a cancer patient can fall into a depression. A life threatening situation is a lot to deal with. Some people aren’t equipped to meet cancer head on, laugh in its face, and scamper on.

I just got a saying over the internet that I thought was amusing:

I ALWAYS KNOW GOD WOULDN’T GIVE ME MORE THAN I CAN HANDLE.
THERE ARE TIMES I WISH HE DIDN’T TRUST ME QUITE SO MUCH.

So true.

And Remember …“YOU ARE A CANCER WARRIOR”

I’m actually doing well with the short story that I’m putting together to sub to Samhain Publishing … believe it or not. I’m past the halfway mark and the story is actually sounding pretty good. A little bit of hit and miss, but progress is being made.

Unfortunately, this is at the expense of getting those queries out to agents and editors. I was trying to do that via the day time job, but circumstances (i.e., actually having to work) kept getting in the way. My evenings and earl mornings are spent working on the short, so time is a commodity I really don’t have right now.

So, we’ll see what this week brings. I’m hoping the office will be slow enough that I can sneak in a few side jobs totally unrelated to the legal profession. Today is the 27th of July and I still have until August 10th to sub this puppy. That’s 15 days. No pressure.

You’re damned if you do and you’re damned if you don’t. You have to have car insurance, yet how often do you really need it?

Well, we found that out. Hubby got into an accident where a woman cut right in front of him. Did enough damage to the car where it was declared totaled and we now have to get a new car. What a pain in the ass. For him … not for me. This is his car and he’s dealing with it. However, apparently it was necessary to take two days off of work to deal with the insurance adjuster that finally got back to him after making phone calls for almost two weeks. Personally, I probably would have gone down to the damned offices and demanded to see the schmuck in person … but that’s just me and I have a bad attitude.

There should be a law that for all the money you pay into insurance companies, if you don’t use or need the insurance during a given year, you should be refunded at least half the money you cough up. Sounds like a deal to me.

Yep … you heard right. Round Eight. If anyone checked out one of my comments on last week’s Cancer Warrior blog, you would have seen that I gave an update following my doctor’s visit. For those who didn’t, I’ll just have to rehash everything.

First off, we didn’t hear from Arizona yet. The place was called CarisDx, by the way. It’s a diagnostic facility that examines the records, tissues and scans and basically provides a fresh look at treatment. Hopefully when I see Dr. D. in two weeks, we’ll have some answers. The website, for anyone who’s interested is www.carisdx.com.

The bad news is that my numbers jumped again. We’re cookin’ at 356 right now. I don’t think I’ve ever gone this high. 218 was the highest dinger I’ve had in the past. Soooo, we have a new ballgame. Dr. D. put me on a chemo called Gemcitabine or Gemzar for short. It’s a very mild chemo and is acting as sort a stopgap while we’re waiting to hear from Arizona. Dr. D. didn’t want me going without anything to battle the numbers while we were waiting … so Gemzar it is. Best yet, I get to keep my hair. Chance of thinning out, but who cares. Beyond that, the side effects are minimal.

The pain in my hip is gone. It was most likely the sciatic nerve, but Dr. D. says it probably flared because of the lesions in the hip rubbing on the nerve. The nerve evidently lies right on top of that. Hopefully the increase in my steroids and the chemo is knock that out.

So that’s where we’re at. I gave myself the pre-requisite 24 hours to feel sorry for myself but being the overachiever that I am, I managed to get over it in 5.

And Remember …“YOU ARE A CANCER WARRIOR”