My love.

My love. Thank you.

What is, is.

Have lots I want to write, it's just never the right time. I'm reading a fabulous book I wanna talk about.... but I can't be bothered tonight.

Work is keeping me busy, and tired. I got the 3 days/week re-hab program extended "indefinitely". That basically means that I work 3 days instead of 5, do my job as per usual, get paid almost the same (god bless long-term disability insurance!) and have a lot less stress.

I've been having many post-Interferon cognitive difficulties (will list these in a future post) and that coupled with the fact that I perpetually need 10-11 hours sleep in order to function at what I still consider to be a sub-optimal level (never mind what happens to me on 7-8 hrs sleep--train wreck!!), are keeping me on part-time disability. Oh, and stress. I don't generally feel stressed, but I also think that if I push myself to do too much too soon given the circumstances, then I am bound to crack and have a nervous breakdown... especially considering a wee past history of anxiety and depression. I have learned the hard way about how much I can handle on my plate at once. Let's just say I'm pretty sure my plate is full and I'm not hungry for more.

Side note: I have a prior history of anxiety and panic disorder. I find it incredibly ironic and psychologically intriguing, that since my diagnosis with cancer almost 2 years ago, I have not had one panic attack-- not even upon receipt of that dreadful (and somewhat cliche) phone call that changed my life forever. Any amateur psychologists out there want to take a crack at that one? Maybe facing my worst fear has made all other illogical/irrational fears pale in comparison thus curing my anxiety? Now instead of many little fears, I just have one big one. And this one is a valid and real fear, not irrational. Cancer cured my anxiety disorder. But in others, I'm sure cancer caused their anxiety disorder. I've always gotta be different.

Still no path report to report. I will be harassing my oncologist's secretary again on Thursday (day off). I'm not waiting on the edge of my seat or anything though. It honestly doesn't matter too much if it was 100% a recurrence or not. What is, is. Nothing changes treatment wise for me so I'm not concerning myself too much with the details of the offending tissue's pathology. What matters is that it is out.

Rant of the Day:

I was all set to join the gym across the street from my work today. They inform me that the membership is onl $28/month... IF I sign up for a year in advance. So, I ask if there is a monthly membership fee and am informed that it is $60/month-- extortion in my humble opinion, especially considering that this is a bare bones gym with minimal equipment, classes only offered over the lunch hour, and only 2 tv's that you can't even plug your headset into.

This really frustrates me, because my plan to stay in shape (ok, get back into shape) and use the fabulous equipment to get buns of steel was thwarted because of a little detail: I have a serious life-threatening illness and I can't commit to a year membership. Shit could change on a dime for me as I've witnessed twice since December already. I'm all for positive thinking but, come on, I have to be financially responsible too!

So, I walked out with a resolve to get back into running even though I'm pretty bored of it and was really looking forward to going back to the gym to change it up a bit.

None of my whining should negate the fact that I am EXTREMELY grateful to be in a place right now where I can contemplate physical pursuits and bitch about membership fees. I don't take this for granted for one second.