So Welcome

I've been blogging for a while but due to an ex-g/f even more than insane than me, of an ex boyfriend (yes, that's his ex-girlfriend who's crazy) I had to put my Myspace blog on "private" although I feel the need to get some stuff off my chest. . . LOL more than the 5lbs I lost during a reduction surgery about a year ago last week.

So I'm trying this spot. A friend of mine from a couple groups at Emory uses it so it should be good. . .

Can't hurt, right?

So here's my deal, I am a 34 year old woman living with Stage IV Breast Cancer. Yes, that's what they used to call "end stage" although it turns out, we don't all die quickly and I don't have a life-threatening metastasis at this moment. . . although it could happen at any time. The morality rate for women who have a recurrence within five years of their first diagnosis is only like 50% . I'm drying to embrace my mortality by using the phrase "I am dying. . . " but it sounds so trite. We're ALL dying right? (Not to be too epherial. . . but still. . . )

I'm in pain a good deal of the time. I'm exhausted most often and yet, sometimes, sometimes I feel great. I don't feel sexual at all. Not like flirting, not feminine, not sexy, not for a minute. Most of my "curves" are still there, but my hormones, they're just all fucked up. Well, they're supressed, because it turns out the essence of being a woman (estrogen) was killing me. (My breast cancer is Estrogen Receptor positive.) And my hair. . . yes, it's growing back, SLOWLY, thank GOD! But it's not the long blonde locks that I had and LOVED for so long. . . yeah, yeah, it's just hair--you try losing yours twice in two years. I know I'm whining, but hell, it's my blog. If you don't want to read it, don't. Jeez. So anyhow, my "mojo" is gone. I'm so not attune to men that I feel weird in my own skin. . . I used to love the boys! Now they're just usually people poking and prodding or asking to see an exam as part of their med school education. I started out really glad to help but I don't love med students as much as I did two years ago. I mean, what's in it for me?

I have dated a pile of Mike's. We counted them the other day, I think I'm up to 7 but on recount I lost someone so I have to go write them all down again. . . so if I ever mention one, you may wish to ask "Which one" was that. . . although if you know me via years/time, we can generally determine who he was. I tried not to date so many Mikes, but 3 men ago, he used the "I go by Michael" excuse. . . and then the next one was around and comforted me so greatly at the break up of the prior. . . and then this summer there was a YOUNG guy (OK over 25. . . ) who I tried not to go out with but I somehow got tricked into meeting. . . and he was nice. Too bad for him he was a horrible kisser. He seemed like good potential boyfriend material.

I am proud "mama" to a Jack Russell Terrier. Casper. He's almost all white. Pure Jack, if you know what that means (spring, sprong legs, high energy, smart and pure love bug!) I would die if he weren't around. Many days he is THE reason I get up and put something other than flannel PJ's on. Although I have been known to walk him in said PJ's and sweatshirt/coat. The neighbors will just have to deal. After all, I am dying of cancer, what the hell do you want from me? Ha.

Back in the day I was a Cosmo swilling party girl. Could dance for hours with the best of them. And still be at work at 8:30 am the next day. I'm not sure how I kept that up for as long as I did. When I was done with it, I was pretty done although all that exercising kept me in good "shape" for drinkin' with the young ones when I was a recruiter. But at $10 a pop, it was too expensive to drink Martini's in our building more than once/twice a week. . . especially if I hadn't hit "bonus" (commission.)

I loved College. I went to UGA and had a very "well rounded" education. That's code for I learned to party as hard as I could, get decent grades AND work/intern too. That's liberal arts for you. GO DAWGS.

I have not done much today other than clean up the kitchen and make chili. Walked my dog and the neighbor's 3 legged chihuahua daschund mix: Bob Newheart. He's my dog's one and only canine friend (so far.) They are curled up on my neighbor's couch right now. (I'm writing from her place, it's a long story.)

Despite that, I am "sore throat-ish" and tired so I'm goign to go grab another jacket and walk "The Boys" before I feed them and take a nap.

More exciting stuff to come I'm sure.
Thanks for reading.

Jenn