Birthdays Are A Blessing

Some people freak out when they reach a certain age, more specifically for this post I am talking about turning 30.  I always wondered why.  Maybe they break down because they are not at the point in their life or they do not see themselves where they wanted to be when they turn a certain age.  I can not help but be reminded of the Friends episode when Rachael turns 30 and freaks out about it and starts thinking about where she wanted to be by the time she turned 30 and realizes that everything was going by quickly, or when Phoebe realized that she lost a whole year of her life because she thought her birth date was different than what she knew and she had not completed her list of things to do before turning 30.

As I am quickly approaching this age mark, August 29th (today, eek), I am not worried at all, nor do I worry that I am not at the point in my life in which I wanted to be by the time I turned 30.  

I have done a lot with my life before now and I have had a lot happen as well.  The one thing I think of right now is that reaching 30 is a blessing.

At the age of 19 I was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML) and during treatment I almost died multiple times.  It was scary and all I could think was that I was too young for this and there is so much more I want and need to do in and with my life.  My other thought was that I could not leave my family like this.  So, I fought hard every day and night.  I made it through several more difficult times and was in remission.

Slowly, I started getting my life together and was enjoying it once more and appreciating all of those small things that mostly go unnoticed.  I decided to travel abroad and as much as I could, carpe diem, so to speak.

However, after signing up and making my deposit to travel to Morocco to ride camels in the Sahara Dessert and explore the world, I found out that my leukemia relapsed.

I was angry.  Mostly because I knew that the relapse meant more intense chemo and a bone marrow transplant, which were still rather new at that time.  Also, I knew that finding a marrow match was extremely difficult because of all the markers they had to match for it to be successful.  At this point I was unaware of stem cell transplants and how they worked, etc.  What I knew was that the fight was going to be longer and more difficult than the previous.

This round of treatment was even more dangerous because every cell has to be killed, all the good and the bad, more so than with my first instance.  I needed full body radiation to help kill all the marrow in my bones so that the new marrow, or in my case stem cells, could be injected to create a whole new marrow production, so new that it can and will change your blood type to which ever donor’s cell blood type happened to be.

This was dangerous and scary because without platelets there is no way to stop the bleeding if it were to happen, which did happen the first time going through treatment and was one reason I almost died that first time.  Also, without and immune system there is no way to fight off an infection, which also almost killed me the first time around as well.  But this time was even more intense and dangerous since I would have even less of an immune system, even less platelets, less blood cells.

I made it through the second time after fighting death several more times and being diagnosed with severe osteoporosis and a very rare, and when I say rare I mean rare, as in at that time only 5 people in the world having the same diagnosis/disease.  Pulmonary Veno-Occlusive Disease (PVOD), which does not have a very cheery prognosis.  Most of the people diagnosed with PVOD, or rather all since it was such a small number, only lived up to 5 years after diagnosis.  This disease, if you could not tell by the name, affects the heart and lungs and makes the heart work harder to pump blood through a person’s body and reduce the amount of oxygen received in lunges and other organs.  It is progressive disease causing harm to organs over the years, which is why survival rate is low.

Considering all I have been through medically, and everything I have done since, graduating with an undergraduate degree in Psychology and Human Services and receiving a minor in French, as well as studying abroad in both France and Morocco, also visiting Canada a few times and London, and traveling within the U.S. to Seattle, Florida, New York, Illinois, Nebraska, and all the states between Minnesota and Florida on an awesome road trip with 2 amazing friends to vacation on the ocean for 2 weeks; I really cannot complain about where I am in my life.

Thus, I feel achieved and hope that on my 30^th birthday in a few days I will not freak out about my age.  I am sure that it will be like any other day and I will mostly be happy for just being alive 8 years after being diagnosed with a progressive disease that has only a 5-year life expectancy after diagnosis.

All this feels like reason enough to not be worried about turning 30, but I guess I will not know until the day comes.  I guess no one does, which is why they tend to freak on their day of birth.

Books, How I Love Thee

I know I have not written lately.  I apologize.  It is not that I have not had anything to write about but more so that I have been so wrapped up in reading that when I have a free moment I have tended to pick up my book or Kindle rather than the computer and get lost in a whole different world.

Reading has always been one of my favorite past times.  One can never be bored while surrounded by books.  Also, I do not believe that you can ever spend too much time reading or have too many books, my husband may think otherwise after moving all my books into our new place.  I guess that is the unfortunate part of having a wife that can only lift up to 20 pounds; he has to do all the heavy lifting.

Reading was something that I used to escape from the world I lived in while stuck in a hospital room.  It allowed me to travel worlds previously unknown to me.

What better way to pass the time than to solve murder mysteries with Alex Cross (James Patterson) with each one of his page turning thrillers that grab you and keep you on your toes to the very last page while continuing to be completely wrong about who committed the crime.  Then learning about the life of young Fatima Mernissi (Dreams of Trespass: Tales of A Harem Girlhood) while growing up in a harem and dreaming of the world beyond the courtyard walls, which related to me wanting to know the world and the happenings outside my own walls.  Then adventuring On the Road with Jack Kerouac and Neal Cassady through North America in addition to feeling as if I were infinite with Charlie, Sam and Patrick while driving through the tunnel in Perks of Being A Wallflower.

I may not have always remembered what I read further down the road while going through treatments for my leukemia, but for those moments while I was reading I was able to explore different places and escape the confining walls of my hospital room and the hospital itself.  Not only that, but in those relaxing times and for brief moments here and there I was able to forget about everything else that was going on around me.

 Lately I have been spending extra time reading and rereading some of the books I read in the past and really enjoyed.  Something that I have noticed is that books are being turned into movies left and right.  While I truly enjoy the watching these movies (The Hunger Games and Catching Fire, all of the Harry Potter films, and now the Divergent series, and The Mortal Instruments, and one of my favorite authors from the past couple years, John Green with his beautifully written novel, The Fault in Our Stars soon coming to theaters).  I cannot help but wonder if this is promoting reading of the books in anticipation of the films or if it is stopping people from picking up the book and spending time to read.

I have heard it both ways with some saying that they do not need to spend hours and/or days reading a book when they can spend just a couple hours watching the movie.  Others want to read the book first before seeing the film.  Those who have read the book before any notion of a movie feel conflicted that the movie will ruin their love of the book. Others, like me, try to keep them separate while watching and rating the movies but still tend to rate them together when suggesting whether someone should watch the film and/or read the book.

An example is Jodi Picoult's novel "My Sister's Keeper".  As usual Ms. Piccoult's writing is wonderful.  It tugs at your heartstrings and deals with controversial issues.  The movie adaptation is wonderful as well, but is very different from the book.  Not only does it leave out very important parts of the book but it also has a very different ending.  Thus, in my opinion, if you are going to watch the movie then you should also read the book because it will be a different experience than the movie.  Another big example is the Game of Thrones series on HBO.  Many people who watch the show do not read the books, which is a shame since there is a lot of things that are left out of the books.  It would be really hard for all the extra information to be put into that short series for each season/book.  The show really is great, but in my opinion are even better after reading the books.  

How do you feel?  Would you rather watch the movie or television series than read a book? Or, are you one who likes to do both?

Life After Cancer: Difficult Disease With A Difficult Doctor

When you are diagnosed with a difficult disease the last thing you want to have to deal with is a difficult doctor.

I currently have a doctor who is a cardiologist and is the worse doctor I have ever had, and that is really saying something since I have had many doctors, some that I did not like but did their job well. However, this one I do not like and does not do her job well, at least in my case. Yet, she is still my doctor. Why?

Upon many requests for another doctor, she remains to be my cardiologist.

The last time I was there for my follow-up visit and requested another doctor I got the same story, she is the only one who is qualified. Except this time after asking about getting a different cardiologist the intern studying under her decided to voice that it made her uncomfortable and that it felt awkward being asked this. As if it was not uncomfortable for me and awkward asking for a new doctor because I could not stand going to my appointments with her. She also responded with the fact that I only have to see her twice a year. I do not think that should matter. If my doctor is not providing the best care, or what I feel is the best care, should I not express that concern?

Do I not deserve to have a doctor that cares about my case enough to remember my history rather than telling me each time how important it is that I not become pregnant because it would be too dangerous for me, thus having me explain for the umpteenth time that I have already been through menopause due to complications from chemotherapy? More than that, do I not deserve a doctor that respects my time as I do theirs so that I do not spend 4-8 hours just sitting in a clinic waiting room unable to go anywhere because no one knows when she might get to my appointment?

I understand that things happen that make doctors run behind on their appointments, but I do not think that it is alright to make your patients waste their time sitting in a waiting room waiting for you to get to their appointment if it is going to be multiple hours. Update them so that they can do something with that time, such as finding something to eat. The worst part about waiting all those hours is that I maybe spend 20 minutes with the doctor before leaving. Yikes, that is a terrible ratio!

Why has it been so difficult to find a new cardiologist?

Complications from my stem cell transplant left me with a very rare and progressive heart and lung disease. At the time of my diagnosis there were only 5 people in the world who shared the disease, Pulmonary Veno-Occlusive Disease. It is a form of hypertension and is the occlusion or narrowing of the pulmonary veins and venules, similar to Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension. Due to the narrow, oxygenated blood is unable to circulate at a regular pace and can leave a person short of breath with the simplest amount of physical activity. Because of the pathology and lack of response to PAH therapy it gets its own classification. The prognosis for PVOD is not something that people like to hear. For most, the disease progresses very fast and patients are reported dying within 2 years of diagnosis.

I have been living with it for more than 2 years now and for the time being, or at least the last time I was able to see my doctor, the disease has not progressed a great deal. This has not been reported in other patients with the same diagnosis. What can I say, I am truly one of a kind. :)

Since the disease has so many unknowns, I have been a human guinea pig since being diagnosed.

This makes finding a new doctor even more difficult. Because the disease is so rare there are not a lot of doctors who know anything about it or how to deal with everything involved. But this doctor is so arrogant that she does not believe there to be anyone else available that can follow my case in any sort of way.

However, she is not doing a very good job of following my case either. Along with the large amounts of wasted time, she is also incredibly difficult to get a hold of. I am still waiting to get an appointment with her for my 6 month follow up visit; it has been 5 month since that visit was suppose to happen.

Why not make more waves? Demand a new doctor? Complain about the lack of response to phone calls. Don’t I deserve more? I know I deserve quality care, and I do not believe that I am getting that care. 

I had a nurse during my transplant that was so rude that I refused to let her back into my room and talked to the nurse manager that night about it, and actions were taken right away to ensure that she not be my nurse in the future. It takes a lot for me to request for someone to not come into contact with me, if that gives you any idea of how rude she was. However, replacing a doctor is not so easy, at least not in this case.

So how do I go about finding a new doctor? Even more, how do I find one that I can afford to visit. The other hard part about my current cardiologist is that she is several hours away, and now after moving even further from Minneapolis it is a longer distance. The costs of driving there, paying for parking, and eating meals adds up, especially since she is not the only doctor I have to visit down there and they can never coordinate the schedule so that the appointments line up.

There has got to be a way for long distance care, right? All the tests can be done closer to home and results sent to “the expert”, especially since the time spent with the cardiologist, or any of the others in her group, is very short and not worth the cost. If I felt like I was actually receiving care, then I might be more inclined to feel better about the situation However, upon leaving I know nothing more than I did before the appointment.

Have I been too nice? Not demanding enough? I try to be polite and respectful when asking about a new doctor, maybe I should be more demanding and less polite. This nice girl attitude has not gotten me anywhere with this group of cardiologists. But how do I advocate for myself, for my health, when I do not feel like I am being heard in the first place? I should not have to be someone I am not in order to have my voice heard.

How do you deal with difficult doctors? How do you make them see you as more than just a patient, but as a person who deserves their full attention? How do you get them to realize that they are not providing their best care even after telling them and asking for a new doctor because they do not seem to have your best interests in mind?

I guess it is time to roar a little bit louder.

Showing Emotion and Asking for Help: Why is it So Hard?

Why is it so hard for people to ask others for help when they need it? We try to tell ourselves that we are fine and that everything will be ok and things will pass even when we are not sure if that is true.

There were times during my cancer treatment when I knew that I needed someone to talk to and listen to what scared me. I needed someone who would not tell me that things would be fine and that I was strong and would push through everything. I needed someone who would allow me to be scared rather than tell me that I just needed to be strong and think positively. But I was unwilling to admit that I needed that help. It probably would have been beneficial for me to seek someone like a counselor to talk to, but for some reason I just could not accept that I needed that type of help.

Maybe it was because, as a cancer patient, I was already being looked at differently by all my friends and family members that I felt like I did not need one more person to give me that cancer patient look.

If we know we are in a state of depression, or just not feeling like ourselves, why are we afraid to acknowledge that feeling? Why are we more willing to let ourselves feel crummy instead of wanting to do something about our mood so that we feel more like ourselves than different and foreign?

Why is it so hard to ask for help when it is needed, especially when it revolves around mental health? What is wrong with showing fear? Uncertainty? Sadness? Anger? All those emotions that wash over people at any point in their life can intensify once they are exposed to the world revolved around treating cancer.

The person with cancer often gets overlooked and the main questions end up being asked about how the treatment and procedures are going rather than how you, as a person, are handling everything emotionally and mentally.

People tend to push for you to stay positive all the time, to keep your chin high, enforce the fact that you are strong and can get through this difficult time. As long as you stay positive you will make it through everything.

Why can I not scream out in anger when my body reacts to a drug and makes me itch like mad? Why is it wrong for me to be angry that my life has been interrupted by something that could kill me and prevent me from doing all the things that I grew up wanting to accomplish? Is it really normal for someone to be positive at every moment even after all the side effects from the chemotherapy and various drugs that accompanied the cocktail has made the body feel foreign to the owner?

Everything revolves around cancer, tests, treatments, procedures, etc. rather than the actual person.

It took me a long time to realize that it is OK to cry. That it does not make you less of a person for feeling some sort of emotion and allowing that to show on your face.

Life in general is not easy, it is not suppose to be, otherwise we would always get what we wanted and nothing would make us really work for those extra things we want and enjoy in life, right?  Also, it would probably be a little boring and I do not like boring. Instead I enjoy challenges and face them with as much strength and determination I posses. However, I never wanted something as challenging as cancer, nor would I have ever expected it to happen.

Maybe sometimes boring is good.

Growing up I was not one to cry in front of others. When I got upset and felt the urge of tears wanting to show my true feelings I would run away to be alone, secluding myself to deal with my feelings myself, rather than expressing them out loud. I thought that crying would make me look like a baby or a wimp and I was always trying to be a grown up and strong like my mom.

Since I only saw my mom cry on rare occasions, such as when we lost a beloved mare while she foaling, or when someone passed away, I assumed that was the only time worth crying. Of course there have been a few times in my 29 years on this planet where I have been super frustrated and stressed past my max where I broke down and did not care who was around me. But most of the time I would just try to take everything in with a positive attitude and let the world know that I was fine with whatever may come.

Yet, once I saw my mom enter my ER suite, and by suite I mean a curtained off area, crying I knew something more than just a pinched nerve was causing all the pain in my leg. But nothing prepared me for what I was to learn in the next 24 hours.

(For more information, please refer back to a previous post, Finding Out I had Cancer)

I knew that in order to live I would need to start chemotherapy right away, per doctor’s orders, so I obviously agreed, as did Mom, and we started right away. Also, I was so doped up that I could have agreed for them to harvest all my organs. Thus, it was a good thing my mom was there to make sure everything went the way it should.

Even after finding out that I had cancer I did not let myself cry. The only time I would cry was when I was in an extreme amount of pain. Maybe part of the reason was because I had no idea what was in store for me, because I also had no idea what leukemia was or how it was treated or anything about chemotherapy. But I did know that I needed to be strong and in various ways. I needed to have the strength of mind and my attitude to know that I could make it through the tough times ahead and not give up even in the rough periods. 

However, after several months in and out of the hospital, various complications from the drugs, zero energy and not being able to spend time with family and friends around the holidays made me so mad. During one of my short stays at home between consolidation treatments we had a family gathering with my grandma. This was just after being released from the hospital after a spinal tap, which did not heal right and I was left feeling absolutely miserable and unable to stand or sit up without being sick to my stomach with a pounding headache. I could not enjoy my time with my family at the dining table. Instead I had to remove myself and lay back down on the couch, which really bugged me.

At that point I just let it go and broke down. I was so sick of everything. Never feeling well, never having any energy to do anything, always feeling like I needed someone around me rather than being my independent self and just not knowing what to do with myself physically, emotionally, and mentally.

I felt better after releasing this emotion that I tried so hard to keep inside and away from others. All this energy that I spent to try to keep my emotions in tact just made everything more difficult. It was hard to try to stay positive about the whole situation when I was bottling up so much of everything.

Why did I feel the need to keep everything bottled up? Why could there not have been someone who would come in and visit with me while staying in the hospital to talk or listen to my concerns and feelings? Isn't mental health just as important in the battle as the drugs being given? 

I feel that with every diagnosis and every treatment protocol another step should be added to the process. Finding a professional who can speak with individuals dealing with various situations so that they do not feel so alone, so they can work through their thoughts and emotions and try to get a feeling of control back in their life. Just because someone says that they are dealing with everything fine and seem to be handling things with ease does not mean that they are not falling apart inside. 

Here is a thought for parting. One of the things I noticed when being admitted to the hospital was that they always asked me what religion I was and if I would like a chaplain to visit. Even upon saying no the question would come up again later or a chaplain would eventually stop by my room. Why is a chaplain easy to provide, even when unwanted, but a counselor, therapist, psychologist, etc., is not? 

Big Changes Occuring

I feel the need to apologize to anyone who reads my blog and is anticipating the next post. Things have been absolutely crazy and insanely busy on my end.

I recently just accepted a new job in a new city and have been working on finding a place to live, packing, and working every single day this month, seriously, every day basically. Since I enjoy my current jobs, especially the manager at my main one, and the fact that the work schedule for the whole month of November was already out when I accepted my new job, I made the decision to have my start date at my new position start the beginning of December so that I could complete the current schedule. 

To start, I had many days already scheduled at my current position, which I thought was good because it would help with the extra expenses of moving and finding and paying for another apartment rent while currently still in a lease agreement, thus being responsible for 2 rents instead of just one. However, the number of days has increased even more because people have been getting sick and calling in and unable to find others to cover their shifts. Apparently I am too nice of a person because I will work for others in need, yet many people are unwilling to help me out when I am in need without me having to pick up even more hours of work. 

All in all, I have been working morning to late night and have not had an opportunity to finish some of the posts that I have been working on. next month I will only have one job instead of three and will finally have some time to sit down and write and I really look forward to that time. I wonder what else I will do with all that time on my hands. Yet, I really look forward to only having that one job and I really look forward to this huge learning experience I am about to embark on. 

In addition to this wonderful opportunity and great learning experience, I will be finally living in the same town as my best friend. Not only that, but I will be working at the same company as her, and even better than that is that we will also be living in the same apartment building! It is going to be like the television show Friends, and I am super excited to be around my best friend again. We will never get anything done once again, lol. 

So, I apologize for the lack of blog posts the past couple months, but soon that shall be fixed and I look forward to being able to share my writing and story with everyone again really soon. 

Lotza love! 

Sometimes You Just Need Someone to Listen

You are going to be fine.

You will make it through this tough time.

I know how you feel.

This will make you stronger.

It is different when you send a message, but when I come to you to talk I just want you to listen.

Let me just tell you how I feel, what I am scared of.

Your words of encouragement and strength are needed,

But I also just need you to listen.

Just let me feel sorry for myself for a short time.

I just want you to listen.

I do not want you to make me feel better through words,

But to listen to the words of fear and uncertainty.

Please do not tell me that this, too, shall pass.

It could be worse, or that everything will be OK.

I know you just want to help,

To make me feel better, and encourage or send strength.

I appreciate that as well.

But sometimes just listening is all I need.

A listening ear is stronger than words.

Sometimes, I just want you to listen,

Even if I am silent.

Just a touch of the hand,
Will let me know you understand.     

A Simple Touch. My hands have come a long way since I first started drawing. Some work out better than others.

I thought it was great when people sent words of encouragement and strength and it was really needed. Yet, there were those days when I started talking about what scared me and how I felt about the situation and I just wanted someone to listen to me and not tell me something positive to help me feel better. I just needed to hate the world or feel sorry for myself for those moments and have someone just listen. An ear to just listen was the one thing that was the hardest to find when it was needed.

I know that many people say things in response to what they are hearing to help make the other feel better about what they are going through, and a majority of people say something positive because they are unsure of what else to say.

There is nothing wrong with that. Even I admit to responding in a cliché way when I am faced with shocking and/or sad news. It is never easy responding to things that are uncomfortable.

Maybe asking the other person what they are looking for when they need to talk can help. Would they like advice? Words of encouragement? Do they just want to talk to express their emotions without needing anything in return except for your focus on what they are saying?

People say a lot without actually speaking. Their body positions, movements, and gestures, as well as facial reactions often say more than words do and it is important to pay attention to those things in addition to their words. All of these go into the action of listening.

Is it inappropriate to ask the other what type of listening they would like from you?

Some people are just really good at reading the situation and judging from the way the conversation starts and continues. The reactions from one another can help guide the other's responses if they know what to look for. A friend of mine is really good at listening and just letting you get everything off your chest before saying anything. Those were some of the best conversations I had and still have today because she does not try to make me understand that things will get better in time or that whatever is bugging me is just  another bump in the road. 

Some of the best days I had while going through treatment was when a good friend of mine came and sat in my room with me watching the television and just hanging out with me. For the most part I ended up sleeping and insisted in watching the same episode of ER over and over again. My friend did not care, especially since she would switch the episode once I fell asleep again, and did not feel the need to keep me company by talking but just provide support for being there with me for hours on end. She did not expect me to keep her entertained or hold up a conversation. Her comforting and listening to me was simple, she was just there. it was perfect and just what I needed.  Not only was she willing to listen to what I had to say, but she listened to what I needed and knew that the one thing I needed was to not feel so alone and isolated from everything and everyone. Even though I would sleep most of the time she was there visiting, she would stay rather than leave and let me rest. Just knowing that there was someone by me to keep me company helped my spirits and mood so much and made the healing and recovering process a little easier. 

Friendships Bud & Blossom Through Time

Thus, not only is it important to listen to what someone is saying, but by listening to what they are not saying through their actions and what one knows about the other can have more impact. By knowing that I loved spending time with people rather than being alone all of the time, which is what happens a lot when one goes through treatments for cancer, she listened to how I was feeling and knew that I just needed that comfort of knowing that I was not alone.

To wrap this all up, messages of encouragement and strength, along with anything else one might say to provide support are important and very much needed to help get through tough situations. However, sometimes a person just needs another person to listen to them without getting a response in return for all of their thoughts and frustrations.  

For those of you who like to watch movies and are interested in watching a film with cancer as the subject and how it affects the person's life, I suggest checking out the movie 50/50 ( http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1306980/). The film is inspired by a true story about a young adult who is diagnosed with back cancer and how he deals with the diagnosis and his fight against cancer. Of course the way he manages the disease and the side effects that occur are different than what could be for others with cancer, the film does a good job portraying some of the situations individuals come across during their treatment and diagnosis stage, as well as what it is like having everyone know you have cancer and the responses that people say when they find out. It may not be completely relatable, but there are several scenes that were really familiar. My favorite is the car freak out/yelling session, because I can definitely relate to his emotions and situation at that time and have done that more than a couple times.   

Cancer and Discrimination in a Small Town

I may be cancer free, but it will always be attached to me, especially while living in a small town where everyone knows my name and my story.

Yes, I have permanent side effects from all the chemo, radiation, medications, and stem cell transplant. I have a rare and progressive disease that affects my heart and my lungs. But I am still alive and able to work. Sure, I may get sick from time to time, but doesn't everyone?

I love living in a small town, until it comes to finding employment and people knowing way too much about my previous health issues, and some current ones, and worrying about what I cannot do instead of giving me a chance to show them what I CAN do. I kicked cancers ass twice while maintaining a part-time student status. Stop discriminating and start believing!

How do you prove yourself if no one is willing to give you a chance?

I love to work and have really enjoyed the jobs that have given me a chance. Working at the greenhouses right outside of town has allowed me to work outdoors, which is great since I love being outside and I get to work with native plants and I share my love of the outdoors and plants with my mom. In the past I absolutely loved working as a certified nursing assistant in a hospital setting as well as a nursing home but I had to resign from that position since I had to lower my lifting limit to 20 pounds due to my cardiologist's demand in effort to keep my heart and lungs in a more stable condition. The director of nursing at the nursing home was really sad that I had to resign because she knew that I was a hard worker and enjoyed myself as well.

That is who I am. I love to work and enjoy everything I am given the opportunity to have. But I cannot enjoy that if no one allows me to show them how much I love to do a good job, and my best, at what ever I do, and have a good time even while performing even the most daunting of tasks. Enjoying your job makes those you work with enjoy theirs, as well as anyone around you.

I love my town, but I may be forced to move just so I can find a job where I can use my degree in human services and psychology, because working makes me happy, and all I want is to be happy and enjoy this life I fought so hard to keep living.

Maybe one day I can survive off of selling my art pieces, which has always been a dream of mine. Until that day I will continue to search for employment while working on art pieces in my spare time.

Just in case you are wondering I am working on getting something set up so people can order prints of paintings, drawing, photographs, etc. that I have completed.

As always,
Lotza love.