Happy Birthday....

....to me!


Yes, today is my birthday. Last year on my birthday, I made a wish that Year 41 would be better than Year 40 (which began with bronchitis, moved on to pneumonia, a chest x-ray that showed a swollen chest node, and then a cancer diagnosis).


I'd say my wish came true. It was a good year. Health-wise, it seems like I've had one fairly small, nagging health problem after another (a chest thing, followed by a stomach thing, then a head thing, then a skin thing, then a weird dizziness thing, then another stomach thing, etc., etc.). None of it has turned out to be anything major. It's always just enough to send me one doctor or another for fear that it's something bad, or that it might turn into something bad.


(By the way -- a dizziness update: since I had the MRI results come back with no problems, the dizziness has gone away. Coincidence? Was it really just stress? Who the hell knows.)


All of this paranoia sucks. Before all of this, I rarely even took a Tylenol. Now I'm in some doctor's office every month. Part of it is probably just getting older, and everyone my age has little nagging problems. But it sucks having to worry about every little thing.


Of course, it beats the alternative -- dealing with A Very Big Thing. And so far, I'm still stable, and I'm very grateful for that.

It's been a year of worrying, but also a year of learning more about the disease, and being at least a little better prepared for whatever comes next.

It's been a year of nagging ilnesses, but also a year of hearning from people in my support group about how to overcome problems if and when they come.

It's been a year of doctors visits, but also a year of being able to run around with my kids.


May Year 42 be just as healthy and uneventful.