The MOHS nose

Here I am, after years of protecting my fair skin, facing MOHS treatment. For those blessedly unfamiliar, this is a procedure in which layer after layer is removed until no cancer is found. Now, true, the cure rate is somewhere between 97 and 99 percent. Yay. But I also don't know how much of my nose they will take. One layer? Two? Ten? Even the woman who called me today said "We don't know how you will be closed up." In other words, it depends on how far down they go. The word "graft" was interjected in there somewhere. WTF? Why bother.

Hyperhidrosis

I have had hyperhidrosis since I can remember. My hands and feet sweat excessively. Over the years, this health topic has made the rounds from local news to Oprah. Usually, it is dismissed as a minor health problem. I would argue that it is far more destructive than non-sufferers imagine. What if your feet sweat so profusely, you could not wear sandals in summer? What if every job interview was a nightmare because your hands literally drip with sweat? What if the pleasure of moisturizing your hands and/or feet could be destroyed by excess sweat? What if you could not pursue a hobby like calligraphy, sewing, or knitting because sweat pours from your hands? As a sufferer, I would suggest that hyperhidrosis is far more challenging than non-sufferers can imagine. Why? Simply because you do not know what it is like to sweat profusely, constantly. Perhaps the reason I enjoy cold weather is simply because I get relief from this chronic condition. Excessive sweating may seem small in comparison to other health issues, but I ask you to put yourself in my shoes. How would your life change if your hands and feet were not just slightly damp, but soaked in uncontrollable sweat? Goodbye flip flops, handshakes, nice stationery, crafting, etc. Every solution I have tried has had less-than-stellar results. There will be no telethons for hyperhidrosis, and I understand that. Excessive sweating will not kill me. It will, however, inhibit my clothing, my social interactions, and my pursuits as I make my way in the world. Could you live with that???

Confession

I have never admitted this, but I enjoy being sick. Most people dread cold and flu season, but I kind of like it. When I am down with a bad cold or the flu, it is the only time I can be totally self-indulgent and lazy without a hint of guilt. I stay up late watching bad TV as I drift in and out of pharmaceutical-induced hazes. I lose weight effortlessly. My husband brings me tabloid magazines and hot toddies. Sure, I hurt. My body aches or my head pounds--possibly both. But I get to experience total, guilt-free relaxation. No one expects anything of you when you are really sick. In fact, they don't even want you around. It's great! I don't expect anyone else out there to embrace, let alone enjoy, his or her next bout with the flu. I would, however, encourage you to find the potential rainbow within the storm. How often do you get to totally escape from responsibility? Try to go with it and realize that before you know it, you will be back to the real world with all its commitments, labors, and to-do lists.

3 Months Wasted

In my last post, I pledged to write more. Three months have passed. I have written more in general, but I've obviously neglected my blog. As I mentioned previously, I'm thinking about changing the direction of this site. I am feeling more positive than I have in a long while. In fact, an essay I wrote was accepted to a local publication. Obviously, that made me very happy. I've been working to maintain a positive outlook and fight depression with exercise and writing. I've been focusing on the positive whenever possible and rejecting negative thoughts. It seems counter-productive to blog about the purely negative. I'm considering the changes I want to make. Hell, since no one is reading, I can totally change this blog or I can start another one. Whatever happens, I know that from now on I need to work daily to reach my dream of writing for a living.

It Matters to Me

I realize no one reads this, but I still want to announce my intention to come back to writing. It doesn't matter who reads, what I think, nothing matters but the writing. Perhaps it is time for this blog to transition from only one aspect of my personality to the broader picture I have of myself, that of Writer. Not just negative, depressed woman at odds with the world. But also the woman who writes about these experiences. I am the woman who values my own experience. My one life is precious enough.

Now and Then

It used to be that things were written down, documented. Now everything is a bad-link away from non-existence. Does my writing mean anything if it disappears? I am asking this question within a blog, which means I already know part of the answer. Our modern times, our moment of history, is invisible without the written or spoken word RECORDED. That is what makes it "real."

Ah, Spring! I wish I could like you, but sadly, I can not. You usher in the season of sandals and flip-flops. Thus, I am subjected to the hideousness that is most feet. Callouses, unkempt nails, cracked heels, toenail fungus....the works. I just can't stand it. I KNOW my feet are ugly, and for the sake of humanity, I keep them covered. I do not subject people to their ugliness. I wish others would be so considerate.

I'll Be Bloggin' My Way Back to You Babe

with a burning love inside...I want to be more productive. Write more. Blog more frequently. I have a lot to say. Most of it is rambling and useless, but what if something I write touches someone? What if I share something that eases someone else's mind? I love being home alone and thinking, drinking, and smoking. It is a small vacation for me. And I know J is having fun too. It's a great way to live. With your best friend, lover, champion. It is good stuff and I know I am blessed.

Questions

What are the questions we all ask? Why me? How did this happen? Why do I exist? Does this person love me? How can I love myself? And on and on and on.....

Stop asking. Just be who you are. Don't worry about the rest. If you are honest, then you will be brave and true. You do not have to worry about being right. You simply are. That is enough.

Love to you all.

It's My life

Don't you forget. It's my Life. It never ends...........there are good moments and there are bad. which do we choose?

new plan: PBR and box wine. We will save $$$. I am in a conservation mode, and it suits me. I don't want to work more right now. I also want to say that "prodigal" means "abundant", even "lavish". for years i thought the word had to do with the son's return, not with the celebration that accompanied it. i missed the whole point! i learned this from B Kingsolver. i love her. there is no need to write b/c she is the BEST.

What to do with happiness?

Not that anyone is reading, but I still feel badly that I haven't posted in almost 2 months. It's hard to come up with something for a negativity blog when I've been feeling relatively happy. The truth is, feeling happy for this long makes me nervous. I suspect I'm not alone in this. When things go well for too long, those of us who see the glass half empty wonder when said glass will shatter all to hell. It simply is not a normal state of being. Not to mention I dread becoming one of those people who is so constantly upbeat that other people want to throttle me. My negative thoughts are not all gone, I assure you. Just this morning I looked at my feet and thought "how ugly!" I have thought about this imperfection all day, and it's bringing me down. Ahhh! That's better.