Feeling sexy with all my scars hanging out...

Okay, by now you should know what the deal is. Nicole is on a mission to recapture her swagger, to pull the sexy back into her life. Breast cancer survivor or not, I’m still a sassy single girl and I want to feel that way every time I wake up and every time I walk through a door. You want to know why?


Because I love being a girl.

I’ve cried and stumbled through most of this journey. I’ve been sad and feeling low for the better part of the last year and a half. And while that sort of disposition is contrary to my natural effervescence, it is perfectly understandable. Dealing with cancer is hard. Its heavy and it takes a huge emotional toll on you – if you let it. (Which I did) But, I’m moving on past that. Its time.

I have decided that even though I am not perfectly pleased with my body as it is that’s no reason to dim my own shine. Most of us aren’t happy with our looks. We want longer hair or shorter hair. Straighter hair or curlier hair. A smaller nose or bigger boobs. Some of us want hips and others want to give away the hips they have. (shrug) It is… what it is. At some point you have to accept yourself, flaws and all… and just damn what you think other people will think of your shortcomings.

Before breast cancer, I liked feeling like a sexy girl. I didn’t go too far out of my conservative comfort zone to find that sexiness to be sure. But I did my own thing, in my own way. I learned to own my own space in the world.

And then I lost it. Probably somewhere in the hallways of George Washington University Hospital. (laughs) I’ve been dressing like a schlump for the longest time now. Wearing ill-fitting clothes because I didn’t want to shop for new things and my old things didn’t quite fit right anymore. But when you dress well, you feel better about yourself. And I NEED to feel good. (My cuteness cannot be confined to just my face…)

So, today I wore a sassy dress to work that shows a LOT of cleavage. And… well, my cleavage is crooked. And it’s a little misshapen. And its got a darkened area of skin (hyper-pigmentation from my radiation treatment) And its got a crazy scar going around my new breast.

AND… I TRULY DON’T GIVE A CARE!

(sigh) That felt good to release that into the air. I don’t care that someone sees my scars today. I don’t care that someone in my office may feel uncomfortable with my putting it all out there for them to see and acknowledge. I don’t really care about any of that. For me, that’s a huge leap forward. I’ve been terrified, scared to death, that showing my scars was going to be embarrassing for me and for whomever came into contact with me. I’ve been wearing anything and everything that covers my entire chest area because I didn’t think I should bare my imperfection to the world.

But you know what? I’m forcing myself to get over it. Life is just too short for me to continue to put these crazy restrictions on myself. Last summer I met the nicest guy. And the sweetest (yet strange) thing he said to me was that he wanted to lick my scar. He was talking about the tiny scar on my chest where my port was implanted. He had no idea that (at the time) I had a huge sideways scar on the left side of my body where my boobie was removed. He just saw a girl at a party and threw it out there. I think about that comment a lot.

Life is short. I’m tired of feeling afraid. I’m tired of not feeling comfortable in my own skin, in my own space. Breast cancer has taken a lot from me…I refuse to give up anything else to this disease.


Sorry. Today is MY day. And I feel pretty doggone good too.

Have I mentioned lately that hot flashes are evil?

Well... I think they are evil. Every doggone night I look forward to interrupted sleep (assuming my eyes actually think about closing without a sleep aid)... waking up drenched in sweat is not my idea of sexy nor fun. But it is my night-time reality.

Last night I took two advil pm pills so that I could sleep. [I finished my prescription of ambien a couple of weeks ago and am now relying on over-the-counter sleep aids to get me through the night.] Two hours later, I was still wide awake and wanting to be asleep, so I popped two more.

Yeah.  I know what you're thinking. "She's really not too bright, huh?" (laughs)

So no... I wasn't too surprised when I had difficulty waking up Sunday morning. I woke up really late and was very groggy. But I knew that having that much sleep aid in my system would leave me groggy and since I really didn't have anything critical to do, I was okay with it. However, as the day ended and I began to mentally prepare for the work week, I realized that I couldn't (or shouldn't) take anymore sleep aids because I couldn't afford to oversleep and be late for work. .

I decided to take a chance that my body would relax appropriately and allow me to sleep at a decent hour. Of course, I did not add in the factor of the night sweats... and now I'm screwed.

Currently it is the middle of the night -- around 2:30 a.m. -- I have to wake up early (really really early) because I move slowly and it takes me forever to get ready for work now. Its too late to hope for sleep. What little rest I could have had has been interrupted several times with night sweats. I've changed my pajamas -- slipping out of the satin red pjs and into a ratty old cotton t-shirt -- and I wish I could turn back time so I could get some sleep.

I just had to let you know ... in case you forgot or weren't paying attention -- HOT FLASHES & NIGHT SWEATS have to be the devil's product. What's really crazy is that the heat isn't even consistent. You can be going along just fine, feeling comfortable and relaxed and then wooosh! Sweat is pooling on your back, your face is dripping and your hair is becoming saturated. Since I now keep a standing fan going in my bedroom all the time... I get up and adjust the fan's output and get back in the bed. A few moments later... I'm cold. I've got wet, cold clothes sticking to me... and the breeze from the fan is making me shiver.

At that point... I do the unthinkable.. and turn on my electric blanket. (laughs)  Ten minutes later... I'm yanking it off and turning my body so that the fan is hitting me dead center.

These stupid shenanigans happen all night long. (laughs)

If I take my sleeping pill at an appropriate time, I'm good. Unfortunately over-the-counter medication isn't as precise as prescriptions... and sometimes it takes hours before they kick in.

Every night is an adventure.

Did I pick the right time to take my pills? Is the fan up high enough? Is the blanket on low enough? And so on.

Tonight, I didn't make the right decision. Which means that tomorrow will be a very long day at work. I don't know if I will sleep at all tonight.

I see Starbucks in my future...

Preparing for more surgery

I met with my plastic surgeon the other day. It was my 3 month follow-up appointment after my TRAM-flap procedure. All things considered -- 12 hours under anesthesia being operated on; 6 days in the ICU recuperating from the procedure; 6/7 weeks at home further recuperating; a loss of muscle strength in one arm; reduced energy; pain in my abdomen area following surgery -- I'm doing okay. My scars are healing well. My energy levels are slowly inching back up. My tummy doesn't feel as tight as it did before. (I used to feel like someone tightened me up so much that I couldn't stand up straight)

She was quite pleased with my progress. However, I take that with a grain of salt. (laughs)  I have learned that what the medical community sees as impressive is not always perfectly correlated to what the rest of the world sees as progress or improvement. Neither view is wrong, just different.

To my doctors and their staff... the fact that nothing is sticking out (hernia), I'm back at work, I didn't have to go back to the hospital for any complications... that means I'm doing well and progressing marvelously. Now, to the rest of the world who has no clue that I have been going through my own personal hell for the past 2 years... I look like a chick who might be a little lazy or a little overworked. I walk too slow, don't move so fast and refuse to lift anything that looks heavy. (laughs)

Its all about perspective.

I noticed that I am growing more comfortable with choosing whether or not to discuss my breast cancer status with people. I no longer feel as though I have Tourette's and can't control what comes out of my mouth. I went out last night to celebrate a friend's birthday. (had a blast too!) When I checked my coat and my bag, I got into a conversation with the guy working coat check and eventually shared with him that I was working on a blog and a book about breast cancer. Later that same evening, I ran into an acquaintance and when he inquired why he hadn't seen me in a few years... I simply said that I had been sick. Didn't go any further.

That would not have happened 6 months ago. (laughs) Thank God for growth and continued progress.

Back to the surgery... As I said, the surgeon was very pleased with my progress and wanted to start discussing the next step in the journey. (sigh) I am beginning to understand how some people get addicted/hooked on plastic surgery. It seems impossible to get everything you want done at one time. So, there is always another procedure waiting in the wings. At any rate, its time for me to start thinking about the next step to getting things back to "normal".

The next step for me is to have my natural breast reduced so that it matches the size of my reconstructed breast. Also, a little bit of additional contouring to my reconstructed breast so that it looks better. I'm going to have a little liposuction! (gasp) But its not what you think. (laughs) This will be some really small areas of fat removed around my reconstructed breast. Just to make things look prettier. (smile)

The beauty of this next step is that I won't be in the hospital for a week. The surgeon said that she can do it all in one day. (Sweet!) And that my recuperation will be about 2 weeks. (Even better!)  I definitely want it done and would like to have it done as soon as I can schedule it. But I have to coordinate with my manager (that sort of blows) and also keep in mind my travel schedule for the year. Right now, I'm aiming for early June but we'll see what works.

I am a bit scared but not overwhelmingly so because this procedure is far less dangerous, far less involved than the procedure I went through in November (TRAM flap). And afterwards... I will have CLEAVAGE and perky new boobies!

Fantastic!! My swagger will be at 1 million after its all said and done. (at least I hope so)

>>> Yay... cleavage!

Wearing the mask...

My survivor story was published today on Voices of Survivors. "My Voice" by Nicole McLean

It is an interesting story. I just re-read it and even though I wrote it, the rawness of it still surprised me a bit. Even if you're not a breast cancer survivor, I hope that you can relate to my issue of wearing the mask to hide your true feelings in life.

At any rate... thank you so much for supporting me on this journey. It keeps me going and gives me more strength than you can ever imagine.

~Nic

PS. The other day I participated in a panel presentation for Blogalicious DC (Blogalicious). The event was "Creating our Conversations" and I had an absolute ball. This blogging stuff TOTALLY ROCKS! The blogosphere is amazing. I have never felt so intune and joyous in a community that I didn't create. Its fabulous. But... I wanted to share a story that one of the bloggers in the audience (my confession: Her blog is my blog's shero) wrote about the event. http://www.nbcwashington.com/blogs/niteside/Nicole-McLean-Blogs.html

Also, there is a video recap of the event here: Blogalicious DC Meetup

It has been a very good week for a sassy, sexy (sometimes weepy) breast cancer survivor and her Fabulous Boobies. :)

inching towards 100

I was asked to contribute a survivor story to a website dedicated to cancer survivors. http://voicesofsurvivors.org/  I can't remember how I connected with Lynn, the guy who started the site and the correlating non-profit -- but I think it was through some other breast cancer survivors on facebook. I have to say, social media is proving to be a fascinating and very helpful way to connect with other survivors and supporters. It is amazing.

I digress. Lynn asked me to contribute a story for the the site focused on what being a survivor means to me. Normally, I write with little planning. I write my blog based on how I'm feeling on a particular day or based upon something I've found in my internet travels. I accepted the opportunity not realizing that it would be particularly difficult to articulate what it means to me to be a breast cancer survivor.

I've been in particularly low spirits lately about my cancer journey and each time I tried to construct an article, it became a dirge of woe and tears. I know that it is just my mood at the moment and not entirely how I feel, so I waited until I was in a better place to write about being a survivor. I have to say, what I came up with surprised me.

I wrote about "wearing the mask" of being a confident and strong breast cancer survivor. We all wear masks in our lives to get along with others, to fit in, and to just keep things moving in a forward direction. What the mask represents, reflects and hides differs from person to person. I have had a lot of people ask me how I've gotten through this with grace, or how does it feel to be an inspiration to others. (laughs) All of that... that grace, that inspiration, that courage... that's the mask.

Writing for "Voices of Survivors" helps me to inch ever closer to my goal of submitting 100 posts/articles this year. I've declared 2010 my year of being like Lil' Wayne. (laughs) One random day I found myself watching one of those shows on a music channel (can't remember whether it was MTV or VH1) about celebrities. Lil Wayne was the subject and for some reason I was drawn into it. I think it was because I don't really know much about him or his music. I could probably name two of his songs, so I wouldn't be considered a fan, but the show about him was very interesting. I was stopped in my tracks when they explained that his popularity shot up after he appeared on 100 different song collaborations in one year.

That is BANANAS. His work ethic is crazy -- in a good way. And while I am not one of his biggest fans, I admire his tenacity and his drive and decided that if it was good enough for Weezy, its good enough for Nic. I'm putting my stamp everywhere I can this year... already I have contributed to a few blogs, and offered background information for a local playwright who is working on a play about breast cancer. Later today, I will be participating in a blogging forum for women of color... and more things will be coming.

Will he hold your purse?

I've never reposted an article from another website... but this one just struck such a chord with me... that I had to. And since I'm still feeling the love from Valentine's day... its appropriate.  Here's to all the men who hold the hands (and the purses) of the women who fight breast cancer.

All my single ladies... find a guy like this. :) 

-----------------

Will he hold your purse?

http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/magazine/articles/2009/10/04/will_he_hold_your_purse/


As a breast cancer doctor, I’ve learned how to spot a devoted husband -- a skill I try to share with my single and searching girlfriends.

By Robin Schoenthaler
October 4, 2009


“Everything I know about marriage I learned in my cancer clinic.” I’ve been known to say this to my friends, maybe more than once, maybe even causing some of them to grind their teeth and grumble about Robin and Her Infernal Life Lessons.

I can’t help myself. I’ve worked as a breast cancer doctor for 20 years, I’ve watched thousands of couples cope with every conceivable (and sometimes unimaginable) kind of crisis, and I’ve seen all kinds of marriages, including those that rise like a beacon out of the scorched-earth terror that is a cancer clinic.

It’s a privilege to witness these couples, but the downside is I find myself muttering under my breath when my single female friends show me their ads for online dating. “Must like long walks on beach at sunset, cats,” they write, or “French food, kayaking, travel.” Or a perennial favorite: “Looking for fishing buddy; must be good with bait.” These ads make me want to climb onto my cancer doctor soapbox and proclaim, “Finding friends with fine fishing poles may be great in the short term. But what you really want to look for is somebody who will hold your purse in the cancer clinic.”

It’s one of the biggest take-home lessons from my years as an oncologist: When you’re a single woman picturing the guy of your dreams, what matters a heck of lot more than how he handles a kayak is how he handles things when you’re sick. And one shining example of this is how a guy deals with your purse.

I became acquainted with what I’ve come to call great “purse partners” at a cancer clinic in Waltham. Every day these husbands drove their wives in for their radiation treatments, and every day these couples sat side by side in the waiting room, without much fuss and without much chitchat. Each wife, when her name was called, would stand, take a breath, and hand her purse over to her husband. Then she’d disappear into the recesses of the radiation room, leaving behind a stony-faced man holding what was typically a white vinyl pocketbook. On his lap. The guy -- usually retired from the trades, a grandfather a dozen times over, a Sox fan since date of conception -- sat there silently with that purse. He didn’t read, he didn’t talk, he just sat there with the knowledge that 20 feet away technologists were preparing to program an unimaginably complicated X-ray machine and aim it at the mother of his kids.

I’d walk by and catch him staring into space, holding hard onto the pocketbook, his big gnarled knuckles clamped around the clasp, and think, “What a prince.”

I’ve worked at cancer clinics all around Boston since then, and I’ve seen purse partners from every walk of life, every age and stage. Of course, not every great guy accompanies his wife to her oncology appointment every day -- some husbands are home holding down the fort, or out earning a paycheck and paying the health insurance premiums -- but I continue to have a soft spot for the pocketbook guy. Men like him make me want to rewrite dating ads from scratch.

WANTED: A partner for richer or poorer and for better or worse and absolutely, positively in sickness and in health. A partner for fishing and French food and beach walks and kayak trips, but also for phone calls from physicians with biopsy results. A guy who knows that while much of marriage is a 50-50 give-and-take, sometimes it’s more like 80-20, and that’s OK, even when the 80-20 phase goes on and on. A man who truly doesn’t care what somebody’s breast looks like after cancer surgery, or at least will never reveal that he’s given it a moment’s thought. A guy who’s got some comfort level with secretions and knows the value of a cool, damp washcloth. A partner who knows to remove the computer mouse from a woman’s hand when she types phrases like “breast cancer death sentence” in a Google search. And, most of all, a partner who will sit in a cancer clinic waiting room and hold hard onto the purse on his lap.



Robin Schoenthaler is a radiation oncologist at the MGH Department of Radiation Oncology at Emerson Hospital in Concord. Send comments to coupling@globe.com. Story ideas Send yours to coupling@globe.com. Please note: We do not respond to ideas we will not pursue.







© Copyright 2010 The New York Times Company

Its Valentine's Day...2010

Valentine's day 2010 - Just happy to be alive

I've been surfing the breast cancer boards a lot lately and a recent thread about being single and dealing with the aftermath of breast cancer really touched my spirit.

Today is Valentine's day. And while it isn't a big deal for a lot of people... for some of us, Valentine's Day is the ultimate in excitement and joy. A holiday dedicated to the joy of love, being love and showing love -- fabulous! I don't understand why people don't like or appreciate the opportunity to show love... but eh. Some do and that's their right, I guess... so we're going to go with that. But for the record, that is NOT Nicole.

hot flashes while snowed in

 I have been snowed in at my home for the past few days. The mid-atlantic was hit with a blizzard that dumped 2 feet of snow on us. Snow is so beautiful when its falling. But a pain once its on the ground. Right now, we are being hit with our second big snowstorm this year. Might see another 12 inches on top of the 24 or so we already have.

I spend a lot of time at home so it doesn't bother me as much as others to be stuck in the house. However, one thing that is really irking me badly... are these doggone hot flashes.

How is it that there is so much snow and coldness outside and I can't regulate my body temperature so that I can sleep through the night without taking pills? I have flashes during the day but they are nothing like the flashes that come at night. It is so frustrating that its laughable.

This picture of this lady laying down in the snow made me laugh because I feel her. I want to run outside and dive face first into a snowdrift and just cool off. I've never been so hot for so long in my whole life. Its utterly amazing.

Another 4 years of this? Geez... breast cancer is a pain in my behind. (laughs) But once again... I am  happy in the little things like, being here to experience hot flashes in the midst of a snow storm.

surviving 5 years after breast cancer...

I had a conversation with my auntie the other day. She is also a breast cancer survivor and we were discussing our different ailments and complaints (laughs) when she told me that she had reached her milestone mark. Five years cancer free.

That milestone is one that survivors hold their breath and hope for. The thought is that if you make it five years beyond your diagnosis, you are less likely to face a recuurrence. But, you also have to take into consideration what stage of cancer you were diagnosed with because that has a bearing on the survival rate as well.

All things are relative. If you were diagnosed with stage 0 or stage 1 breast cancer... there is a 100% 5 year survival rate. Stage 2 has a 86% 5 year survival rate. Stage 3 (that's me) has a 57% 5 year survival rate and stage 4 has a 20% 5 year survival rate. Even with that understanding, we all know that anything can happen and just because you have breast cancer doesn't mean that you will die because of breast cancer. You could get hit by a bus crossing the street. Or something else equally unfortunate. You could die of embarrassment... (laughs) Who knows?

There are no guarantees, no absolutes. I am grateful that my auntie was diagnosed early, treated promptly and is here to hold my hand while I walk this path behind her. She made it. My other auntie died of breast cancer years ago. So, like I said... there are no guarantees, no absolutes. My oncologist  told me some months ago that I had a 30% chance of breast cancer recurrence. (living with 30) And I'm surprised that I had forgotten that actually until just now. At the time, I felt that I could live with 30. And I guess I can. But I also feel like I need to do whatever I can do to get that number down to like 10% or less.

Deep in my heart... way down deep... I fear that I may struggle with this disease again. And honestly, I don't know what I am going to do if that happens. But I do know that those things that I can control I will work on, and leave all the rest up to God to take care of. One of my breast cancer sheroes is a 16 year survivor. I am trying to see numbers like that.

Thoughts about breast cancer and finances

I've got to figure out how I'm going to make it financially

The economy is in bad shape. We've been in a recession for quite some time now. Unemployment is high, businesses are struggling, small businesses are closing... and people are filing for bankruptcy. The country has been discussing health care for some time now. President Obama made it an important part of his campaign to address the outrageous health insurance disparities in the country.

Last summer I blogged a bit about how a health crisis can (and does) send many people into dire financial straits and in some cases bankruptcy. (lets-talk-about-cancer-and-money.html)  Its a scary thing. The changes to your lifestyle -- beyond the cost of your medical treatment -- can quickly escalate the line items in your budget. Organic food, natural cosmetics, specialized clothing and treatments that aren't covered or are beyond the scope of your insurance can quickly take an already tight budget over the edge. Since many of us are but a paycheck (or less) away from serious financial disaster, it is time for a reality check.

I have not been the best financial manager of my money in the past. However, after dealing with breast cancer for the past year and a half and realizing that it's really up to me (and me alone) to handle everything that is coming my way, I am taking things a lot more seriously. It is really difficult balancing work-life issues with a chronic illness. It is even more challenging to navigate the financial strain that being sick can place on your life.  Even though I am at a crossroad right now between going all out and following my dreams and remaining under the self-imposed pressure of doing the "right" thing... I am clear that the balancing act is possible.

When I was in the hospital for my surgery, I had a very memorable conversation with one of my nurses. She was a breast cancer survivor and a really sweet lady. A single parent of five kids, she worked the late night shift at the hospital. During one of my really down moments, she shared her story with me and helped me to see that despite the concerns that I was having at that moment, I was going to be okay. I told her that I was worried about the choice I had made in procedures and was wondering whether it would have been better to have implants. She had gotten implants and one of her implants was leaking and needed to be replaced. However, because she was the sole source of income for her family, she could not afford to take the time off from work to take care of her implant. She was monitoring it closely but she just was not in a position to stop and have things fixed.

This is a breast cancer planner system. I wish I had one of these when
I was diagnosed. I had to create my own system.
Click the picture to learn how to purchase.

How crazy is it that a health care worker cannot afford to really care for her own health? I thought about her for weeks following my surgery (and she still crosses my mind from time to time) because being sick is about so much more than health insurance to cover the costs of procedures and prescriptions... it is also about reduced money (assuming that you have and are eligible for disability payments), finding the strength (or the assistance) with your household duties while you recuperate and more. This lady probably had decent health insurance but it was the weeks off from work recuperating that were making her put her health on a back burner. Who would take care of her five kids while she lay in bed for weeks recuperating? Who would help her take care of her bills while her income was reduced?

I was, and still am, floored by how much this disease can take from you. How much it can alter your entire life story... in a moment. I don't have an answer to finding the balance between taking care of yourself and respecting your obligations... but I am searching.

In the meantime, I am preparing myself and tightening my belts and figuring out which dreams to follow first. And how I can afford to do so.

10 Things I wish I had thought about and planned for before 40

My birthday is coming!!

My birthday is coming. Its not for a few months so you have time to prepare your good wishes. But as I've been planning my celebrations (yes, multiple... I LOVE my birthday), I've also been thinking a lot about my life and what's in store for me.

I will be 41 on my next birthday. Shhh.... you won't hear me say that again. If you ask, I'm going to be 28, again. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Oohhh... got off track... okay.

At this point, of course, I can look back and see a lot of life that I've lived and a lot of mistakes I have made. Those are good things. I can also look back and see where I didn't quite do some of the things I probably should have, or didn't pay attention to things that ended up being important. And while I know that hindsight is 20/20... I thought I'd do a little countdown of the

Top Ten Things I wish I had thought about or planned for before I turned 40.

1. I wish I had really given thought to the fact that fertility is for a limited time. Real basic concept, right? Though I knew this logically, I didn't think about it in a serious way until it was late. The years that I should have been thinking about having kids, I was really trying hard NOT to have kids. No regrets -- and no pictures either. :)
2. I wish that I had focused more on my desire to be a writer. I LOVE writing. Absolutely, positively... few things bring me more joy than just tapping away on my keyboard or jotting something down in my journal. Unfortunately, my freshman year of college I was DEEPLY DISTURBED by the expected salaries of writers and journalists and chose to focus my skills in other areas. That was a bad move on my part. My soul is the soul of an artist and I absolutely detest working in corporate environments. Follow your joy...
3. I wish that I had found a way to become more athletic. Weird right? I'm not competitive but I think I would have gained a lot by doing some team sports and also by learning to incorporate physical activity into my life on a regular basis. Though I can't see myself as a credible addition to anyone's sports team, I could have been a lovely dancer. Dancing made me very happy.
4. I wish that I had really understood how much courage it took for _____ to ask me to marry him. (You know I won't mention any names...) I wasn't ready for what I thought marriage was, but the fact that he considered me is an honor that I think about all the time. I hate that when we ended, I don't think he really knew how much he meant or how much it meant to me that he wanted me to be his wife.
5. I wish that I knew that I could trust my parents with my secrets. Something happened to me when I was a kid that I never told anyone until I was 35. Holding that secret for all that time changed who I was deep down on the inside. And when it finally came out, it changed everything all over again. Secrets = sickness. Let it go.
6. I wish that I was comfortable being the pretty one. I was the awkward kid for so long that when I finally emerged as the pretty girl, I couldn't see her. Do you know how many opportunities I passed up because I didn't believe that I looked good enough to even try? Ugh. I AM beautiful.
7. I wish that I had not flunked out of college. Yes -- I am admitting one of my biggest failures. I flunked out of the University of Maryland because I was overwhelmed, scared and not prepared for that level of work. I am glad that I eventually went back to school (and ended up choosing a different college that was a better fit) but I wish that I had found a way to make it through UMCP.
8. I wish that I had never messed up my credit when I was in college. WOW... this is a big one. I want to blame my bad financial habits on those predatory credit card companies who used to stage all around the student union. While they played a part in my misery, it wasn't all their fault. Had I had sound understanding of basic budgetary concepts, I probably would not have fallen behind the 8-ball in my 20's. (Note to self: when you're paying credit card bills for meals, clothing and entertainment costs for your trifling boyfriend YEARS after that sucka is gone... you need a new plan) Stay on top of your credit, live beneath your means and save, save, save.
9. I wish that I truly realized how fragile good health is. One of my favorite lines from my favorite movie (Its a wonderful life) is ... "youth is wasted on the young...". When you're young and healthy, you think that it will always be that way and that it is that way for everyone. Neither is true. Breast cancer has changed my paradigm forever. Stay healthy, eat well, get enough sleep, drink lots of water. And not a lot of alcohol. (laughs) And do your monthly breast self-exams. Its important.
10. I wish that I stopped making excuses for why I couldn't move overseas, or to another state, or quit a job I hated... or anything that I wanted to do and decided it wasn't the right thing to do. Who cares? Being single and child-free has to have some benefit, right? I should be living in a small house in Africa RIGHT NOW... looking at my passport with stamps and visas from a million places. Instead, my passport is clean and I'm sitting at home. Whatever it is you're hesitating to do... make a plan, and make it happen. Go!

I could go on... but really, there's no reason to. Though I wish I had thought these things through and done things a little different, I am cool with my life. Even the breast cancer portion of the program.

Finally, the training wheels are coming OFF this ride. :)

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