Getting older. I don’t know if I would personally consider this something to bitch about. It does seem to be a common bitch with people over fifty. Perhaps even those over forty. Hmmm — I suppose if you ask a twenty-something … hitting thirty is horrifying.

Me? I’m on the cusp of turning fifty. Will be hitting it in a couple more years. Y’know what? I ain’t gonna sweat it. Ask me 13 years ago if I thought I was going to hit fifty and I might have shrugged. Ya never know.

Personally I view the years as gaining experience, maturity. There are a hellava lot of stuff that I know now that would have been invaluable when I was in my twenties. You don’t come into this world with life’s lessons imprinted in your brain. This is something that you learn, gather, determine and utilize. What you do with this knowledge is up to you. You can use it to your best ability and advantage or you can squander it. I know a lot of people who’ve done the latter. Needless to say, they’re not the brightest of the gene pool.

Take your years one step at a time. My teens were spent learning (both in school and about what type of individual I was). My twenties were spent exploring. I never went to college (which I do regret), but I explored different professions, did a lot of traveling, and did a lot of dating. My thirties was spent creating my family and slowly developing my writing career. In my forties, I’ve been perfecting my writing career while still enjoying my profession as an administrative assistant at a law firm. I fully expect my life’s lessons to continue on through my fifties, sixties, seventies and … the fates willing … through my eighties and on.

The learning never stops.

So … whatever age you happen to be right now … enjoy it. You’re only going to be there once. Plus — getting up there in years sure beats the alternative. That being six feet under.

I was reading an article in the newspaper the other day. It pointed out that very few people make their final wishes known to their families or their physicians.

No one wants to think about their mortality, but you do have to face facts. I know that I do. While I have no intention of letting cancer beat me, I have to be practical. Some day there may come a point where I will be unable to express my desires. All I know is that there is no way I want to be put on life support to linger for weeks if not months while my family struggles to try to second guess what I would have wanted.

There is a living will you can put together which will outline your exact wishes. You can also inform your physician both in person and in writing. Make sure your family has a copy. Yes, it’s a difficult decision to make, but believe me, its one you’ll be glad of — and so will your family.

When the quality of life is no longer there, what’s the sense of making things harder on everyone. Sure, while you’re lingering in that la-la land of life support, you can hope for some sort of medical miracle — but I wouldn’t hold my breath.

So do yourself (and your family) a favor and write out your final wishes. No one knows better how you want to spend your last few days. Personally? I’m going for dignity.

And remember to repeat after me …“YOU ARE A CANCER WARRIOR”

As writers, it seems like there is always something new on the horizon. Whether it’s a new story idea, revisions, agent hunting or submitting to publishers. I’ve been reading blogs lately — mostly written by writers who are forever moving onto the next project. Sometimes she/he will allow themselves a day or two off, but then they’re right back in the saddle, ready for that next project.

Do we ever give ourselves a break? Doesn’t seem like it. Even if you’re published, it just seems to get worse. There are submissions, proposals, edits, the copy edits, the promotion. There are writers who go to a lot conferences, who hosts conferences, who go on book tours. When does it end?

New flash — it doesn’t. Good thing we love this profession. For most of us, it isn’t about the money. Money is good and it would be nice to be paid a decent wage for the work performed, but if writers were in this strictly for the money, there were be a hellava lot fewer writers in this world.

No, we write because we love what we do. Sure it can get discouraging when rejection after rejection flows in on a piece of work you KNOW is far superior than some of the stuff you’d seen published out there, but its all subjective. What one editor/publishing house passes over, another will absolutely love. You have to find your right fit. That contract is out there. You just have to find it.

So give yourself a day or so to relax between projects. Mull over those ideas that will no doubt come to you in the wee hours of the morn, then park your butt into your chair and get goin’. No one is gonna write this book but you. Good luck.

Amazing how easy it is to gain weight … yet how difficult it is to lose it. And why is that women seem to have a harder time losing it than men? We get a bit older, hit menopause and suddenly we’re twenty pounds heavier. Overnight!

Then to top it off. I’m on chemo. You’re supposed to lose weight when you’re undergoing chemo. Me? Nope. I put on weight. I tell ya — there’s no justice in the world.

Granted, I’m not a young chicky anymore and I’m never going to see a size 8 again (okay, I’ll never see a size 10 again). Should I bother trying? You bet. It seems to be the lot of women to determine they’re always twenty (or thirty) pounds overweight and they have to do everything within their power to rectify that fact. Yes, I plan to use exercise and healthy eating to try to regain some of my girlish figure. Maybe.

If only ice cream didn’t taste so good.

Okay, this is weird. I’m going to assume that I’m finally getting a side effect from the Avastin that has now become part of my chemo cocktail. I’ve had three treatments and with luck we should get some numbers from the tumor markers this week. Fingers are crossed.

However, beyond the fatigue (which was expected), my tongue is now getting very sensitive. I noticed this about a week or so ago when I’d eaten something that was on the spicy side. Not too bad, but my tongue felt like it had been scraped raw. Hmm. Avoid spicy and let it heal. The other day I had some pizza with pepperoni. Ouch. Even that little bit of pepperoni did a number. When I looked at my tongue, it had what appeared to be irritated. Okay, lay off the spicy again. Friday we went to the “Outback” and a mildly spicy sauce came with the Bloomin’ Onions. You guessed it … instant burn.

Now, I’d noticed a gradual metallic and/or loss of taste the past couple of weeks. This had happened once before when I was on one of the chemo cocktails, but I’d never had an actual burning. Interesting. I guess I’ll just have to stick with mildly bland for awhile. No great loss as long as its temporary, because I love spicy foods. Not too spicy where you cannot taste the actual dish, but something with a little bit of a kick to it.

I guess this means that the honey chipolte chicken from “Chili’s” is out. (Whine) Love that stuff.

And remember to repeat after me …“YOU ARE A CANCER WARRIOR”