year in review

Wow. So it's the end of 2009. The past decade has been chock-full of change. From starting it at the age of 19 to now, at 29, my life has turned out to be nothing like I had expected it to be or planned on it being. And maybe that's exactly how it's supposed to be. This decade has brought me a Bachelor's degree and 2 Master's degrees, living in Manhattan twice, a stint in South Florida, losing a grandparent and gaining a nephew and new baby cousin, and watching 2 people in my family meet cancer face to face.

This past year has brought the remission of my grandmother's cancer, the diagnosis of my aunt's cancer, the devastation of not getting into a doctoral public health program, figuring out who I am and what I want to do with my life and finally taking my writing seriously and earning money from it. This year has also brought the Stage IV breast cancer diagnosis of a friend of mine, numerous new friendships into my life, and the end of some unhealthy friendships. I have had to reconcile what I thought I wanted with what I *really* want in life, and am realizing that everything I planned might work out in the end, but not the way I thought it would. Am I always 100% happy and okay with this? No, it's a struggle. But I'm slowly becoming okay with the roundabout way my life has gone. I've learned a lot from every experience, and have met people on every step of my journey that have taught me and that enrich my life. These people in my life are constantly surprising me with their kindness and generosity.

What will happen in 2010? I guess we'll see.....

dancing in the rain

The day after Christmas....although I do not personally celebrate Christmas, half my family is Roman Catholic, so we usually go to my aunt's house for Christmas dinner and to exchange presents. Despite the fact that she was in the hospital this year, we still went to her house, where my cousin and his wife had been staying for the past week. We had homemade lasagna (which was excellent), vegetables, potatoes, etc. It didn't feel like the holiday, though, because my aunt's absence was palpable. I think there were a lot of feelings that were like an undercurrent to the day. We did go to the hospital after our gift exchange. Given the circumstances, my aunt looked good. She had been walking around, eating some solid food (although not as much as she needs to; even her doctor told her she especially needs protein after surgery and during chemo), and not in too much pain or discomfort. I have to admit, it was jarring. And being in the field, I hate that I was taken aback. But the last time I saw her, she had been wearing a wig and had eyebrows and eyelashes....and yesterday she wore a surgical cap and was bald, with no eyebrows and (to me) no visible eyelashes. It brought the whole emotional aspect of cancer home, real fast. But despite that, I think she looked okay. She got an IP (intraperitoneal) port during the surgery, and the plan is to start IP chemo 2 weeks after surgery. I worry about that; IP chemo is notoriously hard. According to the Manual of Clinical Oncology, the majority of ovarian cancer patients do not end up completing all 6 rounds of IP chemo because of the side effects and toxicities. It's harsh. For patients with Stage III ovarian cancer, it has been shown to extend survival, but for patients with Stage IV ovarian cancer, it is not clear whether there is significant benefit. I don't just want her to have extended survival - I want my aunt to have extended *quality, pain-free or low-pain* survival. Survival where she knows who her family is and isn't on massive amounts of medication for pain. Survival where she can travel or go places and do what she wants and not be homebound or bed-ridden. Survival where she can laugh with her grandson and my nephew. This is what everyone wants for their loved ones; quality time. And hopefully, once IP chemo is over, this will happen. That is my hope right now. Hope. Hope. Such an intangible thing that bears the burden of so many wishes and dreams.....

It's been good being up North. I do miss Carolina, and when I go back, I will start 2 classes....Intro to Medical Microbiology and its lab, and Intro to Human Anatomy & Physiology and its lab. I'm terrified and exhilarated. I am taking these classes, and if I do well, I will take one more over the summer - these are prerequisites for the accelerated BSN. Nothing is set in stone, though, and for all I know, I might fail spectacularly. We'll see. I also have an interview for a research assistanship on AYAs and cancer. *fingers crossed*. It sounds amazing, and exactly what I study and what my main focus is.....so hopefully it will work out!

2010 is a week away....this year, 2009, has brought surprises, disappointments, bad news, good news, the end of some friendships and the making of new ones, and taught me a lot about myself. Am I where I thought I'd be? Nope. Am I following the path I thought I would? Not right now, but we'll see in a few months. As one of my mom's holiday cards said, Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass; it's about learning how to dance in the rain.

What do you do?

How did we get to this place? What is there left to do when you see a doctor omitting information to the patient, and the patient isn't willing to hear what you have to say? What can you do when, just because you don't have an MD, your information isn't valued? What do you do when you are watching poor decisions being made - on both the physician's part and that of the patient - that will negatively impact someone's life and care? What do you say when you know quality of life and quantity of life might not measure up? What do you do when you see someone not living up to the Hippocratic Oath? Isn't it "First, do no harm?" I thought so, too.

In this case, there's nothing left to do.

All the consent forms have been signed, whether it's "informed" or not remains debatable; all the well-meaning friends have sat in on meetings, although they couldn't tell you IP from IV from subcutaneous; all the available lines of communication have been tried, to no avail.

It is a helpless, frustrating feeling, this place. All of my psychology training has left me with not knowing what to do or what to say, how to react next week....because it is different when it is not a patient/client. It is different when you have a personal, familial stake in things. When you watch someone offer themselves up for sacrifice in the hopes of gaining time, under the false impression that studies have shown benefit, because they've been misinformed by the provider they trust....and chosen not to hear the information you've provided.....it is hard. It hurts.

When I watch this unfold, it reminds me of why I feel (still) so strongly about being an oncologist. So things like this don't have to happen to another person and their family. Because in medicine, decisions don't just affect the patient. You don't just work with the patient in front of you; you work with their family, whether you ever meet them or not. And this....this.....this just blows my mind. On a professional, medical, and human level.

waiting rooms

Sometimes it's easy to forget about "civilians" who don't work in oncology, and what the cancer experience is like for them. This hit me today when I went to the new UNC Cancer Center to give a mentor of mine a recommendation letter form. She's a pediatric oncologist, and I went to the pediatric heme/onc clinic, and sat in the waiting room while she finished up with her patient. I saw parents and grandparents, both alone and with their children, and I realized, once again, that people who don't work in the field can experience this in a much different way. It's too easy for me to forget that, and I need to work on that. I saw the look of badly-disguised fear in one mother's eyes, and the half-hearted attempts at distracting themselves by family members. I forget that people are terrified of cancer, and not everyone turns toward learning information - many people turn away from learning about cancer, because they don't understand it, or it's just too frightening. For me, the more scared I am, the more I read about it, because learning and knowledge helps me to reign in my fear. But that's not for everyone. I choose to surround myself with information about cancer; most people do not, they are thrust into the world of lumbar punctures and chemotherapy and radiation and blood counts and talk of stages and remission and metastases unwillingly. And when I think about that, that must be terrifying. And I cannot allow myself to forget that. Not at all. Whether I eventually become a pediatric oncology nurse practitioner or a health psychologist, I cannot forget the human side of cancer, as Jimmie Holland (my own personal favorite oncology rock star) said. I can't forget the fear or the desperation or the raw hope that many people need just to face the day or another doctor's appointment.

I have chosen to immerse myself in a subject that most people try to avoid with every fiber in their body. I thought about this as I sat in the waiting room. And for a split second, I did think, Jaime, what on earth are you thinking? Look at these children, look at their parents. This field is full of sadness and tears and pain. But then in the next second, I knew that I wouldn't want to do anything else. I don't turn away from this. Yes, it scares me when I let it. Yes, it makes me sad when I let it. But I also know that one day, I will be able to make a difference, even if it's for one family a day. For me, that makes it all worth it.

Grief and Hope

Someone emailed me over the summer with the words Grief and hope are not mutually exclusive, Jaime...and I've tried to keep that in mind. She said it doesn't make sense if you approach it "logically"; it's something that you have to approach from the heart. Which can be hard for me, since I like things to have reasons and explanations and clear boundries and paths. What does the coexistence of grief and hope look like? I've been trying to figure that out. Does it look like the woman who knows there is a good chance this might be her last Thanksgiving, but still pushes ahead for treatments? Does it look like the girl who is holding out hope for a miracle, but with her oncology knowledge, knows that's not going to happen and it pains her to watch? Or does it look like the man who stands silently to the side, waiting for the right moment to lay it all out on the table for her knowledge? I think we all know what grief looks like; the crying oneself to sleep, or crying in the shower, the anger and fury that comes out as a response to a seemingly random diagnosis or outcome. We are all familiar with that dazed feeling of how did I get here? was it only yesterday the world was normal? But that was yesterday, and after today, nothing is ever the same.

I am going up North tomorrow for Thanksgiving, and my bags are full of hope and grief. This Thanksgiving, I am thankful for my family that I have right now, the fact that I have three grandparents, two parents, an aunt, 3 cousins, a brother and a nephew. I am thankful they are all alive here to celebrate with me this year. I am going to concentrate on living in the moment, because that's all we have right now - that's all anyone has, really. But Stage IV cancer has that nasty habit of bringing things to the surface, and this fact is no different.

I really, really hate Stage IV cancer.

cupcakes and life lessons

This is actually the inside of Bliss Bakery!

I went to a new cupcake place last week - Bliss - and now I think I'm obsessed. Their cupcakes are yummy, and their coffee is amazing...it's French press, and so good. The first time I went with the kids I babysit, I had a Red Velvet cupcake, which is daring for me, since I'm usually a vanilla cupcake with vanilla icing girl (which is the cupcake I got on saturday with Miriam). I'm lusting after this HUGE cupcake you can buy that feeds 12-15 people....it's $45, and I think it would be WONDERFUL for a birthday. Not that I know anyone with a birthday soon.....but Bliss's cupcakes are sweet without being saccharine (like Sugarland), and light. You don't feel heavy after eating them. Which makes them very, very dangerous. Of course, do I miss Crumbs and Buttercup Bake Shop, but short of getting on a plane for a cupcake run to Manhattan, Bliss will do quite nicely. 2 years ago, my then-roommate, Sonja, had gone to Manhattan for the week, and just happened to come back to NC on my birthday. She brought me back cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery for a birthday gift! I was so surprised...I mean, to carry them on the plane and everything? That was, by far, one of the best birthday surprises I have ever had.

I was reading blog entries from last year...G-d, I was so optimistic about doctoral programs. Things seemed to be falling into place. And somehow, I went from there to here. A place where nothing is certain, I'm not sure which way to go, and I don't have a set plan right now; no trajectory. This is not where I wanted to be, and I am trying to do everything I can to change this. It's a rough and rocky road right now, and I'm just trying to clear the path enough for me to squeeze by, if that makes sense. I know that I want to do research, work in oncology, and also work with patients - doing patient education and advocacy, counseling....somehow, a mix of all that. I'm looking at two possible avenues, but I'm not writing about them until January, because I don't want to jinx anything. Superstitious, yes. But I don't care.

reason #456 I love Chapel Hill

Tonight I witnessed something so small but so heartening. It was like "paying it forward", in person. Walking up to the store, a woman held the door for me, even though I was far away when she looked back. Then I held the door for another woman, who was far away, and she held the door for a man who was far away. It was something so so so small, but it was nice to see. That's what I love about Chapel Hill.

Reading: Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell

Listening: "Smooth Criminal" by Michael Jackson, "On Nature" by Matisyahu

november!

wow, I haven't written in a while. Things have been busy with babysitting, writing, trying to find a job....and I went up north to NJ last week, and just got back to Carolina today. It was a good visit, and my time with my nephew was great. He has such unbridled joy with life, and when he's not being cranky or mischievious, he's actually very fun. He says the funniest things - I needed to put him to bed, and he kept saying "stay up, stay up"....where he learned that, I don't know. He cracks me up.

I don't have much to write, unfortunately, because there are so many things in my head with what I want to do, jobs I am applying for, decisions to make about future plans.....and no one wants to read all that stuff. So I overanalyze and obsess and talk myself in and out of various options again and again and again.

I did see the Michael Jackson movie "This Is It" last night (wow, it seems so much longer ago), and it was really really good - I don't know what I was expecting, but it was better than anything I was thinking of. I don't think I stopped bouncing along to the music the entire time. And knowing the outcome makes it slightly odd to watch, but ultimately...it's a good movie.

onco-semitism?

I don't know how many of you have heard the latest thing buzzing about Komen? You can read about it here. They are helping to sponsor a bunch of breast cancer conferences/events in Egypt, for scientists in the Middle East, and the Egyptian Minister of Health has rescinded all the invites issued to Israeli doctors. The ADL put out a press release urging Komen to condemn the action, and so far, Komen has been silent. This is disgraceful. Where are all the Jewish groups speaking up? Where are all the feminist groups speaking up?

Komen, I am disappointed in you, more than I have been in the past...this is a new low.

not so rare.

I got an email from my supervisor, Jennifer, at MSKCC today. She is riding in MSKCC's Cycle for Survival, which is an indoor cycling event to raise money for rare cancers. More than half of all cancers are "rare", and it includes childhood cancers, uterine cancer, cervical cancer, sarcoma, appendix cancer, brain cancer, and others. These rare cancers do not get as much research money as the "common" cancers, and as such, there are generally fewer options for treatment. My supervisor is riding in memory of her mother, and I'd really like to see her surpass her fundraising goal. Click here to go to her fundraising page.

I had an amazing summer in 2008, and really felt like I was learning a ton and had a purpose in life. Every day, I would tell my parents, "Today was the best day ever..." Jennifer helped make my experience at Memorial one of the best experiences of my life, and I'd like to help her with this.

Go to the website, read more about rare cancers, and learn what you can do to help raise money for research and treatment.

We cannot all do great things, but we can do small things with great love. - Mother Teresa

hope.

Hope. What is hope? Is it the "thing with feathers/That perches in the soul", as Emily Dickinson wrote? Is it an empty campaign slogan used by a Presidential candidate? I like a quote from author Barbara Kingsolver, that goes "The very least you can do in your life is figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance, but live right in it, under its roof." But living inside that hope is very hard. I know the medical side of it. I know the clinical terms, am familiar with the statistics. And yes, we've all heard statistics are just numbers, blah blah blah....and to a certain extent, that's true. But there's also that cold hard truth of the matter. The black and white words written in the medical chart that detail the cancer. The doctor's sobering prognosis. Hope takes on a different meaning, you apply it to different things. I've blogged about this before; I struggle with hope. But sometimes, that's all you have.

what the heart sees.

I am reading a book, The Best American Medical Writing 2009. It's a collection of essays about, duh, medicine. All the essays are really great, but one in particular struck me today. It was a story about how this woman's 2 year old niece had retinoblastoma, a cancer of the eye -- and the grandfather was a well-respected opthamologist who suspected something months before, and blamed himself for not insisting she be seen earlier. It made me think of my nephew, and I swear to G-d, it physically hurt me to think of anything like that happening to him. I could not imagine life without him. G-d forbid. He is filled with such joy and love, and has brought happiness to everyone in our family, and I would not want to see him hurt for a second. I would rather hurt for years than have him hurt for a minute. But it made me think. And it made me look at pictures of him to make sure there was no white spot in his eyes. (A common sign of retinoblastoma). And I know I love my nephew - and at this point, I'm sure everyone else knows, too....but reading this essay truly brought it to my heart's attention. I would move mountains if Trey needed medical attention. But I hope I never have to.

because I have the cutest kids in my family. seriously.

My super-duper favorite nephew, obviously.

Look at that face. How could you not fall in love?

Bathtime!

My new baby cousin Cole!!!

And this is Cole sleeping!

I feel so incredibly blessed to have these wonderful children in my life. I have not met baby Cole yet, but I love him already. I can't wait!

family, chosen and otherwise.

I LOVE this picture of my nephew and I. There's so much emotion behind it that it's beautiful, to me.

Here we are, at Barnes & Noble. I love his smile.

Though I love living in Chapel Hill, sometimes I do miss living closer to my family. Usually it's hardest after coming back to NC after being up there for a bit. When I came back last Sunday, it was hard. I wished I could stay up North to be near my grandparents and my aunt, and I wished I could have spent more time with each of my parents. But when I went to babysit on tuesday morning, I walked into the house to get the carseats, and saw a note that began with, "Welcome home, Jaime! Hope you had a good time up North!" I teared up, I kid you not. I thought that was so sweet. And today, when I went to lunch with two other kids I babysit for and their mom, I was struck by the wonderful people I've met here, who have invited me into their lives. K, the little girl (well, she's 11, so she's not "little"), ran up to me after lunch and gave me a big hug goodbye....she is so sweet, and I felt so thankful that I have stumbled upon great people here. They may not be my family of origin, but I am slowly building a chosen family here in Chapel Hill, made up of lots of people, some of whom are unexpected. I did miss my family today, though. I was thinking, this time last week I was at lunch with my nephew and grandparents, and Trey sat next to me and would rest his head on my shoulder. And this time last week my family and I were having Rosh Hashanah dinner. But, time goes on....and I will be up North again before I know it.

a colorful life.

You know, I often find myself marveling at the things kids say. Being a nanny, this is a privilege I am lucky to have, seeing the world through childrens' eyes. Today, I was helping E paint. He is four and a half, and often rambunctious. He wanted to paint, and had me put blobs of different color paint on a plate, for his "palette". He made a drawing, and then proceeded to mix all the colors together, in what, to me, looked like a big muddy mix. He then painted a long stripe on the paper with the mixture, and said, "Isn't this very beautiful? There's pink and red and blue and yellow." And sure enough, if you looked closely, each individual color was there. He kept saying, "This is so beautiful, isn't it?" And I thought to myself, you know, I wouldn't have thought so at first, but now that I really look, yes, it's very, very beautiful.

a sweet and sour way to begin the Jewish new year.

Happy Rosh Hashanah! It is the Jewish New Year and I am very thankful for the people in my life. Though my life right now is not exactly as I imagined it would be, I am hoping that this year will bring me a purpose, and help me find my way. I hope that I am able to build upon my faith this year. Right now, I'm not so sure. I am a person of science, which makes it a little difficult to fully be a person of faith (for me, anyway), yet I cannot shake the belief that there is something more, like a Higher Power, or G-d. Honestly, though, sometimes I feel like he's got a whole hell of a lot of explaining to do.

It is hard for me to watch someone who is very ill, and believe that G-d will heal her. Last time I checked, he wasn't in the chemotherapy suite. It is hard for me to share that faith and fully understand it. My instinct is to find the best damn doctor there is, in the best facility, and fight like hell through surgery and chemo and whatever needs to be done. I don't count on miracles. I can't. Do I pray? Yes, I do. But do I believe that that is enough? Not a chance. To me, it's like that story where the guys are stranded in a flood or something, and the one guy keeps saying, "G-d will save me, G-d will save me", and he dies -- and when he meets G-d, he says, "Why didn't you save me?" And G-d replies, "I sent you a plane, a raft, etc etc". Sure, believe in whoever you want to believe in, whatever religion works for you -- but don't use that as an excuse to be passive. Especially when you're in the fight of your life, literally.

And you know what? Maybe that belief system works for me. It makes it easier to deal with cancer. Just focus on the rogue cells that are multiplying out of control, and focus on what needs to be done and what can be done. I can't focus on the "why her" thoughts, or be angry at G-d, because in my mind, it has nothing to do with him - it's pure science. I struggle with issues of faith constantly; maybe that is an occupational hazard of being in the healthcare field. I don't know. Maybe it's the result of 9 years of religious private school. Maybe it's just the result of being overanalytical and obsessive. There are no right or wrong answers to this, and Lord knows, we could talk about this forever and still have a billion different opinons and answers and options. This one's mine, for now.

There are times - and this is one of them - when I wonder about my ability to work in oncology. I love the field, don't get me wrong. But I also take it very hard when I can't "save", or even help people. I take it hard when I watch people ignore factual advice and receive sub-par care that will hasten their demise. It is hard for me to look sickness in the face sometimes. It is hard when I have done all I can do and have to sit back and do nothing. It is hard to face the limits of medicine, in a nutshell. Does everyone in oncology go through this?

yay babies!

I have a new baby cousin Cole!! yay! My one cousin and his wife had a baby this morning! Life is beautiful.

200th post!

This is my 200th post! Yay! It feels like a lot more than that, though.

This is a picture of a shofar, siddur, and tallis.

So, next weekend is Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and one of the High Holidays. It is one of the holiest days of the year. It is a day of judgement, when G-d looks in the Book of Life and makes decisions on people. It is a day of reflection, and 10 days later is Yom Kippur, when we repent for any wrongdoings so we can be sealed in the Book of Life. It is customary to wish each other "Shanah Tovah", to have a good year, or to tell people you wish them a sweet new year. We eat apples dipped in honey, and challah dipped in honey (which I am eating right now; it's my favorite part of the holiday!). It's also traditional to say "Next year in Jerusalem!" Gosh, I would love that - to be in Israel for the High Holidays. I miss it so much. I will return one day, this I know.

Rosh Hashanah was not always a sweet holiday. 14 years ago - half my lifetime ago - on Rosh Hashanah, events were set in motion that eventually resulted in my parents' divorce. At the time, I thought my life was over. And though it took me a while, my life gradually got larger and though it stings deep down, I am able to enjoy the holiday. This year, we have so much to be thankful for. I am so thankful that my grandmother beat breast cancer and is healthy and back to her socializing self, I am thankful that my nephew is talking and is healthy and happy, I am thankful that my family is able to help me, and I am thankful for my health. Overall, life is sweet, and I have high hopes for the coming year.

living in the moment.

My friend Lily commented on this picture that my nephew looked totally happy and fully present in the moment, and he really does. But isn't that how all kids are? We could learn a lot from them. If you notice, the dog's leash is clipped to his shirt. His new thing is pretending to be a dog. He even does "pee pee on the grass" - he goes on the grass and squats, and says "peepee grass", and pretends to go like a dog. He is definitely my brother's child. But at least he dresses well, which is more than I can say for my brother. :)

it's not faith if you use your eyes...

This picture captures the essence of how I feel lately, but not necessarily in a bad way. Let me explain. I have always been that intense, neurotic girl who planned her life in detail. No joke, I actually wrote out Jaime's Life Plan when I was in college, right down to where I wanted to do my PsyD internship, when I wanted to get married, etc. Needless to say, there have been quite a few detours. I don't like surprises. I'm not a spontaneous person. I used to be terrified of making "the wrong decision"....but it has taken me over 5 years to realize that there was no wrong decision. Every experience I've had, every place I've lived, every program in which I've studied, have a place and reason in my life. And though I have yet to find my place in this confusing and crazy world, I think I'm getting closer. I hope I am. It feels like I am. I may be in pediatric oncology, just not the way I thought. I may be in medicine, but not as a doctor. I don't want to sound Pollyanna-ish....has this been easy? No way. Do I still question my decisions? Constantly. I still fight feelings of doubt and disappointment, but at the age of 28, maybe I am finally headed on the right path.

Things happen for a reason. Going to UNC for my MPH was a dream come true, and I came out of it a little bruised, but still here. I have found a place I can call home, and really, truly love where I live. Dare I say - I'm like a real adult. There have been so many unexplainable and unjustifiable (in my opinon) things that have happened in my life, and I have just come to have blind faith that it will all come together in the end.

I've never been like this before. I've never NOT had a plan. I've never NOT had a clear, laid-out trajectory. I've never doubted myself so strongly in my entire life. The whole PhD debacle really shook my confidence, and I need to regain my belief in myself. Maybe this is all part of the growth process we all go through.

Over 10 years ago, a mentor told me about "blind faith". Taking that leap when you have no idea what's on the other side, but having faith that it would work out. It's only now that I can appreciate that concept the way I think she meant it.

i'm beginning to really hate the color teal.

I haven't really been blogging, and most of the time, it's because I'm not even sure how to form words to express what I am feeling. Yesterday it finally hit me (yes, it took that long to REALLY hit me) how bad my aunt's cancer is. It's pretty freakin' bad. I operate like this: when something bad happens like this, I go on autopilot - I start researching, making phone calls and connections, figuring out what needs to be done. When there is nothing more to be done, the intellectualizing and depersonalizing stops, and emotion finally surfaces. And that's what has finally happened.

Like I did when my grandmother had breast cancer, I am praying and sending a guided imagery cd and cards, but it's frustrating not to do more, all over again. It is so painful to watch events unfold and feel in my heart that an altered outcome would have happened had different decisions been made in this whole situation. We aren't talking cure, or even possibly remission. I'm talking a few more months, or the possibility of a clinical trial, or even optimal debulking, at this point. I'm talking about giving her the best possible chances, given the situation; the best possible prognostic indicators. I'm talking about the realities of the limitations of chemotherapy and the balance with quality of life. Palliation versus treatment. I am struggling with accepting the decisions that have been made. I don't understand them, but I am struggling to respect them. It is hard work. It makes me wonder if I can really work in this field......how will I react when a patient and their family chooses a course of action I strongly disagree with? Maybe since they're not family, it would be different. It likely would be very different, but it worries me. How do we evaluate decisions when it's a lose-lose situation? In your medical ethics classes and patient advocacy classes, you can debate this all you want. When you're faced with it in real life, when someone you love is the patient in question, all of that ceases to matter. Decisions aren't black and white, and sometimes, not even grey. Sometimes there is no right answer, and maybe there isn't any answer at all.

When am I going to learn that I cannot save people? That I am not Supergirl, that I cannot "fix" things. Sometimes I think that's what draws me to being an oncologist - "fixing" things. Go in, remove what's wrong, and it's "fixed". For some reason I think being an oncologist would be less hard on me emotionally, rather than being an oncology nurse.

September is Ovarian Cancer Awareness month, ironically. Teal ribbons will be everywhere. Last year, when my grandmother was diagnosed with breast cancer, it was October, and Breast Cancer Awareness month. Oh, the irony.

I am rereading a book that I'd read years ago - "help me live: 20 things people with cancer want you to know". I was lucky enough to "friend" the author on facebook recently - although I didn't realize at all who she was at the time - and decided to reread it. I would say these guidelines even apply to loved ones of the patients...as in, when I tell you my aunt has ovarian cancer, and you know about my grandmother's breast cancer, please do not get a stricken look on your face followed by pity. Do not assume I have a BRCA mutation running amok in my family, or even a HBOC (hereditary breast and ovarian cancer) issue. I worry about that enough for both of us, I don't need the reminder. When I tell you about my aunt being in the hospital for a few more weeks, please do not say to me "Do you really think she'll leave the hospital?" (Yes, horrendously enough, someone said that to me this week). Don't think that because I am living my life as usual that it's not on my mind. It is on my mind when I wake up, and it is the reason I can't fall asleep. It's okay to ask me about it. Otherwise, it's a big teal elephant following me around. And that just cramps my style.

Randoms: check out Teal Toes for ovarian cancer awareness! If you get pedicures, get your nails painted teal next month! When people ask you about it, tell them about the early symptoms of the disease.

I am still raising money for the Avon Breast Cancer Walk.....not sure if I will actually walk, do crew, or even be able to GO, but I'd like to raise as much money as I can. Please let me know if you're interested and I can send you the link! Thank you!

post-grad.....

By now, I'm sure you've seen the previews for the movie "Post-grad" that is coming out tomorrow, with Alexis Bledel. It's about a girl who graduated from college, moved back in with her parents, and is looking for a job, a life, and love....not in that order, necessarily. Every time I watch this preview, I am irritated by it. It makes post-graduation, unemployed life look like so much fun. Obviously, it doesn't look like the movie. Real life looks like credit card bills that you can barely pay the minimum balance on, endless job searching and applying, dealing with feelings of fear and failure (nice alliteration there, huh?), and worrying. It's applying to jobs well beneath your education level, and not getting them, most likely for that very reason. It's dealing with citibank and nelnet for student loan payments that stress you out. It's that creeping feeling of...shit, is this what it is like being an adult? And ironically, at a time when we're supposed to have a degree in our future job area, most of us STILL have no idea what we want to be when we grow up.

So here we are, with advanced degrees, closets full of clothes for jobs we don't have, eating cereal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And we're the future of America.

my next tattoo.

I want this to be my next tattoo. It's the MSKCC symbol, surrounded by the breast cancer ribbon and the ovarian cancer ribbon. Right now, this sums up my life, my interests, my passions, and everything important to me and who I have become. Now I just need the money to get this done! (And figure out where I would get it).

breathe in...and out....

Like I said, last time I posted probably wasn't the best time to blog. But things are better now, like they always are....life is manageable once again. My dear friend R and I went out for lunch and coffee Friday in the midst of my UNCdeletingmyONYENcrisis, and I felt much, much better afterwards. This weekend has been filled with talking with family and catching up with friends, and reading good books. I have also been running, which is a great stress-reliever and endorphin producer.

My nursing application is in. It is out of my hands, and all I can do now is wait, and hope.

Speaking of hope....I struggle to reconcile hope with fact. With my aunt's diagnosis, intellectually, I know it is less than ideal. But I also know that inherently, when it comes to individual people, statistics mean nothing. They are just numbers. We all know people who beat the odds, who shouldn't have lived, who have come much further than was ever expected of them. Look at Lance Armstrong. Look at Patrick Swayze. Never underestimate the power of will to live, of a fighting spirit. I often overlook this, because I can't "quantify" it, can't measure it, can't prove it. It defies simple, logical explanation and that bothers me to no end. But it happens. And in this line of work, that can be nice to remember. It's necessary to remember.

This is also my first time dealing with the whirlwind that accompanies a late-stage cancer diagnosis of someone I love. I didn't know about J's late stage of her breast cancer until afterwards, when she was in remission, and R's cancer is a recurrence....so this, this is new. And it's shocking. It is all-encompassing, pulltheflooroutfromunderyou stunning. Things were fine one week, the next, all hell has broken loose. It goes against everything explainable. And the anger....but there's no one or nothing to be angry at, because this cancer has no good screening test. It has no super-early warning signs. There's not a pin-pointable cause. No rhyme or reason. Which just seems to fuel the anger. Or at least my anger, anyway. I'm angry because I'm not a doctor and I can't make this alright. I'm angry because I'm not up there. I'm angry because oncology doesn't have better things to offer her, and what we have seems so inadequate when you're faced with the knowledge of how this disease works and where it is right now.

So what am I doing? I am reading my books, reading the Bible, praying (even if I don't fully understand where G-d is coming from), drinking my coffee, listening to my nephew's laugh on the phone, and enjoying the sunshine every day. What else can I do?

"There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." - Albert Einstein

i like my coffee dark and bitter, like my soul, thanks.

Right now is probably not the best time to blog. I'm in a wicked bad mood, angry at everyone and everything, hating my life, and annoyed at the stupid internet. I'm at Barnes & Noble because my stupid Mac won't connect well to the internet at home, and even here, I'm trying to apply to the goddamn nursing program at UNC and it keeps messing up. WTF? I am NOT happy. Not at all. I am missing my family. I miss my nephew like crazy. It's times like these - when I am stressed and upset - that he has the power to make me feel so much better about life just by wrapping his little arms around me and smiling in my face. I miss him so much I ache. It is days like this that I wonder, what is really keeping me here in Chapel Hill? Sometimes I don't know. 

My aunt had her surgery on tuesday. Right now they are saying it's stage IIIc. I don't even have the energy to elaborate more. Not that anyone wants to hear about it, from what I can tell. 

Honestly? I have 2 graduate degrees, and right now, they're about as useful as toilet paper. I feel like it's all been a waste, frankly. I've been pursuing the wrong things for too many years, the wrong jobs, the wrong professions....and look where it's gotten me. I just can't do this anymore. This is not what I signed up for. I want a huge do-over. I want the last 10 years back. 

So I sit here at B&N, furiously trying to blink back the tears that are threatening to spill over onto the table. Was it really only a few weeks ago that I was in NJ, having dinner with B and C, and staying late at the office, talking with Jonel and Nicole? Was it really so recently that I spent the entire weekend with my sweet Trey, waking up to his little body sneaking through my bedroom door and then a big smile an inch from my face? Was it really only a few weeks ago that my entire family was healthy? That the biggest worry was baby Cole's impending arrival? Unreal. I want that time back. I want to be back up North, enjoying that time again, enjoying my lunch at the Cheesecake Factory with  my grandparents, enjoying lunch at Ponzios, laughing with Natalie, bringing Trey everywhere, going to breakfast with my mom...I am THISclose to just charging the damn ticket, just to get some peace of mind and relaxation. 

it whispers.

I haven't written recently....I've been applying to jobs, contemplating oncology nursing, and missing family. And, unfortunately, worrying. Last night my aunt - my only aunt - was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and primary peritoneal carcinoma. PPC is similar to epithelial ovarian cancer, it reacts the same to treatment, etc. It's just in the peritoneum, or the lining of the abdominal cavity. Her surgery - TAH +BSO, and any debulking, will be done tuesday, and we should know the Stage better by then....although the doctors have hinted of spread. She had 7 pounds of ascites drained from her abdomen....and the docs said it will likely come back. This can be a sign of advanced disease. 

She went to her doctor a few months ago, with a bloated abdomen, fatigue, constipation....and like many doctors, he didn't suspect ovarian cancer. He told her it was likely high cortisol levels from her stressful job. He didn't do a transvaginal ultrasound or anything - most docs don't. As they say in medicine, "when you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras." Unfortunately, ovarian cancer is a bit of a zebra. Many women are told their symptoms are just part of getting older, or stress, or they're worked up for GI problems....this is why the majority of women who are diagnosed with ovarian cancer present with advanced disease. It's been said that ovarian cancer "whispers", because its symptoms are so quiet and nonspecific.  

I am struggling with not saying too much to my cousin, her son, who seems to think she's Stage I or II. Of course he wants to believe this - he needs to. He's going to be a father in a month, and needs his mother to be around and well. I am fighting to choose hope. I keep reminding myself statistics are just numbers. I am hoping for optimal debulking. I am hoping the chemotherapy that we have - most likely, I assume she'll be treated with a platinum-based drug, like carboplatin/cisplatin, and paclitaxel - isn't too harsh and will actually do its job. Like Jerome Groopman has written, "It is hard to be a person of faith and a person of science." I struggle with that all the time, and even more so now. 

But honestly? My first reaction is neither mature or logical. My first reaction is what the fuck? Two people in my family in less than a year are diagnosed with cancer? This has got to be some sort of mistake. My family is not that big to have these statistics. My first reaction is to rail against G-d, to turn my back on prayer and faith, and to get angry. But then I settle down, and I know that G-d did not do this, that renegade cells did this, and prayer might help. 

Seriously, things like this reinforce my drive to be an oncologist. This is surreal. And, of course, now, when I got to doctors, I now have ovarian and breast cancer in my family. But they're on opposite sides of the family, and my aunt is not Jewish, so I doubt there's a risk of BRCA, since my grandmother tested negative. 

So, please, if you read this, please keep my aunt in your thoughts and prayers - I know you all did that for my grandmother, and she's doing super. :)  thanks.

soul food

My nephew and I, wearing our LiveStrong bracelets. 

Laughing with my nephew.

I haven't updated in over a week, because I went up North for 7 days to visit family. I needed something to yank me out of this rut and reinvigorate me. I spent lots of time with family, my nephew, mentors and friends, and kids. It was just what I needed to restore my soul and fill up my heart. I had dinner with the family I used to nanny for, visited my former coworkers (and really realized how much I've missed them), met with 2 mentors......And now I'm back in Chapel Hill, and trying to figure things out. 

I won't be going to UNCG. When I was in NJ, several people asked me why I wasn't looking at oncology nursing.....I guess I just always felt like it was so gender-stereotyped, and I didn't want to be shoved into that mold. So UNC chapel hill has an MSN oncology nursing program....but you have to have a BSN, and they have an accelerated program. It's a thought. We'll see. 

One of my new obsessions is the brand lululemon. It's a brand of yoga wear that just seems so neat. Expensive, but their stuff is reeealllly cute. 

lululemon stuff

Latest Obsessions

Music: A Fine Frenzy, Gillian Welch

Food: Haribo gummy bears

Soda: diet Sunkist

Lipgloss: Stila cherry crush

by the way, has anyone else seen that "cotton: the fabric of our lives" commercial with Zooey Deschanel? So weird. I can't believe she did that commercial. 

ghosts of memory

It is a small, small world. I am watching the Bravo tv show, the infamous NYC Prep.....believe me, it is NOT a stellar show, and honestly, no real Upper East Side established family would ever let their kids be on it. Anyway, one of the girls on the show was interviewing voice coaches, and I realized that one of the voice coaches was the mother of someone I went to middle school with. Namely, the boy who had AML (acute myelogeous leukemia) and passed away when he was 13 and I was 12. I could not believe it. That was a pivotal event in my life, one whose shockwaves still reverberate today. When I think of why I want to be a pediatric oncologist, Erik is one of the first things that goes through my mind. 

i BLEED Carolina blue, damnit.

Today ended up to be one of those quintessential Chapel Hill days....a kind of day that I would really miss if I moved to NY. I ran some errands in the morning, and then my friend L called me to see if I wanted to go to the organic co-op, sit outside, and "work on job applications". Instead, we got organic sodas for 75cents a can, and yummy cookies, and sat outside and just talked. And I killed some bugs, one of which was very bloody and got all over my MCAT chem book. good times. I'm not exactly a nature lover, if you haven't noticed. In fact -- and this is true, just ask my mother -- I was never even a Girl Scout. The reason why? I didn't like their uniforms, I thought they were ugly. I told this to L and she laughed and said that was a "very Jaime thing to say". Anyway, we ended up walking to the local farmers market, where I got 3 decent sized potatoes for less than a dollar, and ended up making potato slices with butter, rosemary, salt, and pepper. And it's one of those days where it's warm, but not too warm to comfortably sit outside for hours. L and I talked about jobs, possible relocations.....and she even said I love NY.....but honestly, I really love my life here, too. It's so much less pressurized, and relaxed....but would I be willing to sacrifice an amazing career move for that? I don't know. I honestly don't know the answer to any of these questions I have right now. 

And when I got home, I got a nice letter from UNCG, telling me that they are refusing to classify me as in-state tuition. Mind you - I moved here in August 2007. To be considered a resident, you need to have lived in NC for 12 months prior to applying. I sent them proof of my NC drivers license, registration, car insurance, income taxes, property taxes paid, voting registration -- and got a nice letter telling me I needed to have a bona fide (they italicized it) domicile residence here for at least 12 months. I'm not quite sure what the problem is, but I do know this: if I don't get in-state tuition, I'm not going to UNCG. The difference between instate and out of state is more than $20k a year, and as bad as this sounds, I really don't think UNCG is worth $30k a year. I'm not doing that, that's ridiculous. In which case...........I'm not sure what my life is turning into, actually. 

In search of a good Philly pretzel....

Boathouse Row in the daytime

Boathouse Row at night

I grew up in NJ (hold the jokes, please), but not the Sopranos NJ that everyone knows - that's North Jersey. I grew up in South Jersey, about 15 minutes from Philadelphia. I root for the Philadelphia Flyers, the Philly Eagles, and the Phillies. In high school, my friends and I would go to South Street and hang out, which was a street filled with restaurants, coffee shops, tattoo/piercing shops, hippie stores, punk stores, etc. During the summer, my camp would take trips to the Academy of Natural Sciences, the Franklin Institute (which is STILL one of my favorite places), and the Art Museum. My mom and I would run the Race for the Cure every year, warming up on the art museum steps -- yes, the same ones Rocky ran up in the movie.  I interned at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania when I was getting my MS in clinical health psychology, and have spent more time on the campuses of Drexel University and Penn than I can even count. When I would drive home at night from classes, I'd cross the bridge over to NJ, and at night, Boathouse Row would be all lit up, and it remains one of my favorite memories. 

Of course, Philly has changed a lot over the years. My brother couldn't pronounce it right, and he once called it "Filthy-delphia"...which isn't far from the truth. Crime rates have risen, and I would never, ever go to South Street at night now. Why the sudden nostalgia? Rocky is on tv right now, and it made me laugh at first -- because Sly Stallone reminds me of my dad. A lot. But then it cut to a shot of the art museum, and it actually made me a little homesick. I miss philly soft pretzels you buy on the corner, the planetarium at the Franklin Inst, Cereality on Penn's campus, Tiffany's at the Bellevue...I haven't had a real Philly pretzel in I don't know how long. mmm. 

Anyway.....just watching Rocky and feeling nostalgic, and missing NJ a little tonight....

but I don't live in the Rocky Mountains....

Yes, I am blogging on a friday night. I've been so exhausted lately, but I might finally have a reason why. I went to the doctor's today, and have been started on prophylaxis/treatment of Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, which is transmitted by tick bites. yeah. Symptoms can take a few weeks to really develop, and I had thought I got bitten about a month ago, but it wasn't a traditional bulls-eye rash. So....fast-forward to the past few weeks, w/weird bruising, spotty rashes on my arms/feet, GI probs, sleep probs, chills, fatigue, headaches....because tests for this and Lyme Disease often come up with unreliable results, he just put me on 10 days of antibiotics, because the treatment and prophylaxis are the same. So hopefully I will start to feel better soon. THIS is why I am so not an outdoorsy girl. Give me the wilds of Fifth Ave anytime. 

Right now, I'm not sure what I am doing with my life in the fall. I am still enrolled in UNCG, but I've also been applying to jobs....so I really don't know what is going to happen. It makes me nervous, but I have to learn to deal with that. 

reflections on independence

My brother and Trey

Me being me, of course I've been analyzing my life to death lately.....I feel like I'm in a sort of emotional/physical purgatory -- neither here nor there, just sort of existing. It's a very disconcerting place to be. It's a constant effort not to stagnate at the bottom, you know? Right now, what seems to work is frequently reminding myself to take things one minute at a time, one hour at a time, one day at a time. I just have this moment. I don't have to solve my life's problems or have my new life plan by tomorrow. It will be okay. Another thing that helps is talking to my nephew, and getting pictures of him from my family on my cell phone. He brings such a joy to my life; one that is unmatched. I also find it helps to focus on my gratitude for what I have in my life. It's hard to feel hopeless or down when you're filled with gratitude. 

I applied for a job that has nothing to do with cancer....it's more education/counseling. They wanted someone with a Master's in counseling, public health, student affairs, etc - and, oh, I happen to have two. So I applied. Sometimes I find myself wondering if, despite my fascination and love for oncology, I am able to do it. The emotional component is a large part of what drives me to do this work, but at the same time, that emotional part threatens to overtake me, because of the anger and (at times) feelings of desperation and hopelessness. Most of the time I can channel these into something productive, but sometimes, it just doesn't happen. And I do miss the counseling relationships I used to have. There's something very humbling about being allowed into someone's emotional life. You're in that shared space, and sometimes the lines are blurred, and the learning and healing goes both ways.

I'm reading these books, "Tweak", by Nic Sheff, and "Beautiful Boy", by David Sheff, his father. The two books chronicle Nic's drug addiction and recovery process, told from two very, very different viewpoints. And I got to thinking about my brother. My brother struggled with addiction when he was in high school, and has been clean and sober for over 7 years. I am so incredibly proud of him. He bought a house, he has a job, he is an attentive and loving father to his son, and he really has made a life for himself. School never came easy to him, and he's had to work pretty hard for everything he has. He literally hit bottom, and has journeyed so far from where he was years ago. Has it been an easy, smooth path? No; it never is. He hurt and lied to every single person in the family during his using. He was belligerant and volatile and hell-bent on self-destruction. But with a lot of work, rehab, NA meetings, a sponsor.....he did it. And I don't often tell my brother how proud I am of how far he's come, but today I did just that. I called him and told him so. 

just another summer day

Life has a funny way of working out. I'm not going to discuss specifics, but I got an interesting phone call about a possible job in NYC the day I moved into my new place here in NC. I then had a surprise phone interview yesterday and I'm waiting to hear about an in-person interview. Craziness. 

I'm watching Wimbledon right now, and it always reminds me of high school summers -- I'd watch Wimbledon in early/mid-summer, and usually the US Open coincided with tennis tryouts, so I'd come home from tryouts/practice and watch tennis. I would measure my summers by tennis. When my dad got home from work, we'd go to the tennis courts and play a few sets, and then I'd run the lines. Summer has always been intertwined with my racquet getting re-strung, buying a new grip cover, and popping open new cans of tennis balls. I still love tennis as much as I did, although I don't get to play nearly as much. But that feeling of being back on the court, thwacking a two-handed backhand.....losing myself in the flow of the game....the tennis court was somewhere I was confident, I was in my element. In the midst of confusion, it was a refuge. Tennis just clicks for me. I miss it a lot. 

In the wake of Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett's passing, someone also worth mentioning is Dr.Jerri Nielsen Fitzgerald. She was the doctor who was in Antarctica and diagnosed and biopsied her own breast cancer. I read her book, Ice Bound, which tells her amazing story. She had chemo airlifted and sent to her, and her cancer went into remission, but returned 5 years later, and metastasized to her liver, bones, and brain. She was only 57, and died last week as well. 

When I hear things like that, and think of everyone I know who has been diagnosed, it just reminds me why I am pursuing oncology. But if I get this job....I might have to put that to rest. I'd still be working in oncology....but not as a physician. It brings up a lot of tough choices and lots of emotion. 

everything changes.

I hate moving. I've mentioned this before. Maybe it has something to do with all the moving around during the divorce (you attachment theorists would have a field day with that one, huh). I don't know. Maybe it's just because I hate change. But of course, the only constant is change, as we all know. I took 3 Jeep-loads of stuff to my new brownstone, and mostly all I have left is a few boxes, and room stuff, like my bedside table, bed, bookcase, and drawers. Hopefully it shouldn't be too bad. Today my neighbors must have enjoyed the entertainment I provided as the bottom of my box labeled "kitchenware" fell out and dishes, thermoses, and coffee mugs went tumbling down the grass and landed on the concrete parking lot. My favorite Orla Kiely mug that my grandparents bought me broke, and a lid to a pot got nicely dented. Thankfully, my menorah and my Anne Taintor mug survived intact. 

Packing up my stuff makes me sad. Besides the fact that I love this condo, and I still have some bitterness that the PhD program didn't work out and therefore I won't be buying this place and staying in it, going through my stuff reminds me of where I've been. The blue dishes that I have are ones that my dad bought me when I graduated college and moved into my first place of my own, in Ft Lauderdale. He surprised me one night when I came home from work with a bunch of stuff for my apartment. The purple fake lilacs in a mason jar on the shelf in my bathroom have been with me since Florida -- my mom bought them for me when she helped move me in to that apartment, because she said all houses should have flowers. Those lilacs have also been with me everywhere - FL, Manhattan, NJ, NC....they've been a constant. Even the chip clips I still have from when I first moved down to Chapel Hill bring back the memory of me, my mom, and my dad (yes, the three of us) food shopping together, because they both helped move me in down here. Even at the age of 28, I enjoy having these mementos of my parents helping me become independent. And now, I have my new Orla Kiely tumblers and plates and mugs that my mom and my grandparents bought for me during graduation weekend, and numerous pictures of my sweet nephew to put up in my new room. It reminds me of the Melissa Etheridge song form the movie Boys on the Side (one of my very favorite movies EVER), "I'll take you with me..." -- wherever I go, I always have these memories. 

Knowing this might be my last night in this house makes me remember this past year.....moving in after a summer in NY, getting lost driving in Southern Village, having the recycling Nazi lady yell at me, my roommate and I comparing JCrew purchases, pink poker night, lazy Sundays watching America's Next Top Model all day, walking Izzi (the dog)....I had a good year here, overall. I had my ups and downs...sometimes more downs, but I've enjoyed my stay here. Am I jealous of the people moving in? Oh yeah. Wicked jealous. Really. But, life goes on....I guess. 

Latest obsession: Haribo gummy bears. Damn, these are good. 

Losing Everything

I'm reviewing books for Elle magazine. I've read 2 books today, and one is titled Losing Everything, by David Lozell Martin. Initially, the book didn't seem interesting to me. It's nonfiction, and details his struggles growing up and various bouts with depression, marital infidelity, and financial ruin. But I kept reading, because his words are suffused with humanity -- and by that, I mean that it is easy to relate to his writing, even if your circumstances are very, very different. His ability to convey basic human emotion is excellent. Toward the end of the book, there is a passage that jumped out at me. 

"...At the end of your life, at the very summation of your life, all that matters is what you've done....This is the thirteenth book I've published. It doesn't matter what effort it took for me to write them. It doesn't matter how far back from the pack I had to start in the race to become a writer. It doesn't matter what else was going on in my life. All that matters is that I wrote the books and they are published and people read them. I'd like to write thirteen more, but what I'd like to do doesn't count in the end. That's the latest lesson I learned -- if it's important to you, do it. Because not doing it, while having a good excuse, doesn't mean anything in the end." 

Sugarland, summer adventures, and medical musings

I am sick of buying cards for people because of cancer. I am sick of hearing that people I care about are getting surgery because of more rogue cells. I am getting tired of the heartbreak, of the helpless feelings, and of the non-answers the medical community has to give so many of us regarding cancer. But I also know that those IN the medical community are just as frustrated.....because, dare I say, I am one of those people. I have my MS, my MPH, I've been with the LAF and i2y...I think maybe I can say that. And maybe that's why this is such a double-edged sword for me. Part of me wants to bury my head in the sand and just not think of cancer ever again, but a bigger part of me wants to learn everything I can about it and DO something about it. It drives me to push myself toward more. 

It's been a busy week....in the span of 4 days, I worked over 40 hours babysitting - although, most of the time, it didn't feel like work, since these kids are awesome. I got to spend time at the pool with them, got tan/burned, went to Sugarland, one of my favorite places here in Chapel Hill, went to Starbucks with them, and had many domestic adventures, to say the least. But I came home every night, exhausted and worn out. And I'm trying to put together my schedule, but it's incredibly frustrating. And the financial aid stuff is stressing me out......I had somewhat of an internal breakdown the other day, because I thought, what in G-d's name am I doing? Can I really do this? Really? Is this all a big mistake??? And you know what, I'm terrified. I miss NY, I miss working at MSKCC, I'm scared of these science classes.....but I know that if I don't at least give it my best shot, I will always wonder, what if....and I'm sick of wondering that. I'm sick of regretting things. As Wayne Gretzsky once said, you always miss 100% of the shots you DON'T take. This is a journey....one that I am not familiar with at all,  and one that will be challenging. I've never really truly had to work at schoolwork. But I will have to work my butt off for this. This stuff does not come easy to me. I haven't been challenged like this before, and I think it will be good for me. 

I'm reviewing books again for Elle magazine, yay! I just got a shipment from them for the year-end prize thing, but I'm reviewing books for their October issue, but haven't gotten those yet. I'm looking forward to it. 

This weekend will be filled with moving and packing. I HATE moving. Always have. I want to settle down somewhere......but probably won't for a while. 

I've been thinking a lot about last summer in Manhattan. As I was there, I knew that it was an amazing summer. I knew what a great opportunity it was. Heck, I still carry around my MSKCC lanyard in my bag for luck. I miss it every day. If offered a job there, would I take it? Possibly. I would really give it considerable thought. I loved every day there. Is it worth paying exorbitant amounts of money to live in NY? maybe, for a short time. I do love it there. 

I don't know. I've never had so many emotions and thoughts and things pulling me in so many directions before. I don't have any easy answers here....I don't have any answers, actually. Does this make me uneasy? Of course. Do I feel untethered and ungrounded? Yes. But I have to have faith that the universe is unfolding as it should.....I just have to have blind faith, I think. 

what am I thinking?

I spent over an hour and a half trying to come up with a good combination of classes for Fall semester that don't overlap....with no luck. Apparently, UNCG's system lets you register for classes that overlap - and so you're constantly flipping back and forth between screens, trying to accomodate classes and labs. It's a huge pain. I even called the registration help desk, and they treated me like I was a complete idiot. My fall schedule will be: Bio I, bio lab, Gen Chem I, chem lab, and Physics I, physics lab. If I can't even register correctly, how the heck am I going to manage these classes? I was highly stressed, so I decided to go to the gym. 

3 miles and a lot of sweat later, I'm still stressed, but I'm not holding so much of the stress in my body anymore, if that makes sense. But I was shampooing my hair and thought, what the hell am I doing??? On one hand, I'm calling myself out on something I've been talking about for years and years, and really putting myself to the test. On the other hand, I am challenging myself in a way I've never been challenged before. I've never really been scared of school......until now. What makes me think I can actually do this? My passion and drive and love for oncology won't get me an A in physics. Can I really do this? 

baby steps.

I'm not sure where to start. I guess I should start with the most exciting news......I will be going to UNC-Greensboro in the fall, for their premed post-bac program! I am ridiculously excited to be studying bio, organic chem, physics, and pre-calc (and that's just first semester!). That's sick. But the reactions I'm getting from most people are this: Finally! I've been talking about it and obsessing about medicine for so long, and reading medical textbooks for fun, that it's like, okay, good, you're finally going to do something with it. I was talking to a friend of mine, E, today, and he's actually a physician, and he said that I have wanted this more than he's ever wanted to be in medicine, and he has no doubt it will work out for me.....I hope he's right. Because I really do want this, with all my heart. I have wanted this since 2003, and found excuses and reasons not to do it every year.....there are a million reasons why I SHOULDN'T be doing this. But there's one reason why I should: Because my heart and soul are so invested in becoming a pediatric oncologist. How can I ignore that anymore? I don't want to regret any more decisions in my life. At the age of 28, I feel like I already have more regrets than I should. And that's going to stop. I'm finally taking the first step on a path I've been dreaming about for years, and that feels good. 

If MSKCC offered me a job, would I change my mind? I'm not sure. That would be an incredibly hard decision to make, and I would have to weigh everything very heavily -- it would most likely mean I would not pursue medicine, ever. It just wouldn't make sense. I'd be working at my dream job, but perhaps not doing exactly what I want to do. But can anyone really have it all, anyway? I don't know. 

I'm missing NY a little.....just remembering last summer. Muggy summer evenings on the Upper East Side, walking home eating Pinkberry, Starbucks runs, loving my work, still not quite believing I was interning at MSK. It's so hard to reconcile my love for NY and my love for Chapel Hill. Both places feel like home, in a way that no other places have. 

words matter.

I love music. I have memories of songs that have gotten me through every stage of my life -- my 8th grade trip to the Catskills, high school and the divorce of my parents, college, various life struggles, trips to Cape Cod and Ocean City, life in Manhattan, FL, and NC. Music calms me and speaks to me, and often, music expresses what I cannot. I love making mix cd's for people, and love introducing people to new music. I was listening to a mix I'd made for my pcp, and there's a song, "Lift Me Up", by Kate Voegle, on it that I love. Here are some of the lyrics. 

.....Even so, I had to believe

Impossible means nothing to me

Can you lift me up?

Turn the ashes into flames

And I have overcome

More than words can ever say.......

But everything that's worth having

Comes with trials worth withstanding...

It's just a really beautiful song. 

On a lighter note, I realized my old iPhone can be used as an iPod touch! I can get wifi on it, even though I don't have a phone plan on it! yay! I've been obsessed with the App Store, downloading all the free medical apps. I am such a geek. 

playing doctor.

How awesome is this shirt? Love it. Last night at dinner my friend R asked us what each of us were most excited about. And honestly, for the most part, anxiety overrides any of my excitement about the future. I'm not looking forward to much. Except for one thing. One thing that I don't talk about that often to people, because I don't want to seem flaky or indecisive or obnoxious. I'm excited about the possibility of maybe getting into UNCG and the post-bac program. I honestly get excited when I think about the opportunity to really dive into biology and put myself to the test of whether I really can fulfill my dream. I am eager to prove to everyone that I can do this, that it's not just me avoiding the "real world", or being flaky, or whatever. I have the rest of my life ahead of me to work -- I want to do something I enjoy. And if that comes with a large educational financial debt, so be it. That might be a small price to pay for my daily happiness for the next 60 years. I'm scared and nervous and excited and eager about this all at once. But to really surround myself with science and medicine? Amazing. I would love it. It reminds me of a quote one of my friends posted recently -- and ironically, she is training to be an oncologist. What would you do if you knew you could not fail? I think that's a pretty good barometer of what you really want to do. 

from the mouths of babes

The 4 year old I babysit said to me today, "Kids don't die." He had been telling me about his stuffed animals, about how Mr.Monkey doesn't have a Mrs.Monkey because she lost her stuffing and died, but he has his kids because "kids don't die." He said it so matter-of-factly that I was momentarily shaken by his innocent statement. Oh, if only it were that simple. Wouldn't it be nice if it were true? But to him, it must seem true, because he's 4, and doesn't know any better, obviously. He is lucky enough to not have hardship or loss touch his life yet. It's moments like these that I love nannying. The simple reminders of humanity, of love. 

a very expensive piece of paper.

I got my diploma in the mail today. I could care less. There, I said it. I felt nothing when I read it. No sense of accomplishment or pride. No happiness. I thought maybe I'd feel differently once I saw it. But no, unfortunately. It just brings back disappointment and bitterness and feelings of failure. And the nagging feeling that I'm just wasting years of my life. 

searching for my heart

A year ago tomorrow was my first day at MSKCC. I remember I was so nervous. It was wicked hot that day, and my heart was pounding so hard I thought it would explode out of my chest. I had been waiting for this for so long, and I was finally about to start my much-anticipated practicum at MSKCC. I was so intimidated by everyone there and how smart they were and how amazing the place is....I mean, for me, this was it. I mean, this was it. I had wanted this for 5 years, and here it was. And it didn't disappoint, I can tell you that. Jennifer, my attending, was (is) amazing, Rika and Dara were so much fun and brightened my day, Susan helped me even when I asked her a million questions, and everyone there was so willing to help and assist people and talk with you, even if you were a lowly intern. I met my idol, Jimmie Holland, and loved, loved, LOVED having an mskcc.org email address. Every day, coming out of the 96th st subway after my day at work, I'd be on the phone with my mom or dad, invariably telling them what an amazing day I had had. It was a lot of work, and I didn't want to let my supervisor down, and it was intimidating in the beginning, but it confirmed for me that I was in the right field, oncology. Cancer, day in and day out....and I loved it. I worked on the weekends, I read journal articles at night, I did lit searches after work.....and I honestly loved every minute of every day I was there. I miss it. So why is there such hesitance when I think about maybe returning there? 

And if I do get in to the post-bac at UNCG, can I really handle organic chem? And physics? And biology? When I think about it, I'm excited (I know, huge dork)....and I haven't been this excited since last summer. Especially after not really being proud of myself for the MPH, this new feeling renews my hope. It renews my purpose. It feels right. In my heart, science and medicine feels right. It has taken me a while to get here.....and to trust myself, my instincts, the voice inside my heart....but I'm here now. 

And isn't that what really counts?

ummmm

So much for not blogging about politics. I just went on Gawker, and apparently there's a video that was filmed in Israel and it asked American Jews and Israelis their thoughts on Obama and the whole situation. Some nasty things were said, some racist things were said....but also, I have to say, this is not a clear and accurate presentation of Jews. But some of the subsequent comments written by commenters show anti-semitism is alive and kicking here in the States.

I (heart) Orla Kiely

Okay, enough blogging about politics....back to cancer, finding a job, and overanalyzing my life. You know, the fun stuff. 

I'm realizing that I need to start packing my house up....like, for serious. I have no idea how I am going to move my bed and mattress. Granted, it's literally right up the street in my neighborhood, but still. Anyone wanna come help? And I have to get situated all over again. 

I'm sort of excited, though.....graduation weekend, my mom and my grandparents and I went to Target and got lots of Orla Kiely kitchenware. Then a few weeks ago, I went and got Orla Kiely placemats! yay! To say that I've been a little obsessed with her designs lately is a little bit of an understatement. 

                

Anyway......I had better get a job soon. I just had a bagel and a huge chocolate chip cookie for lunch. Not good. I feel like all I do is eat! Not to mention, I am seriously stressing about moving. Rent money, money to live, etc....if I get into the post-bac program I wont have any money until august....and I need money NOW. Hopefully I can get enough babysitting to hold me over. I am just one big ball of stress. Not good. But I did think of one thing that made me somewhat happy. If I do this post-bac program, and then apply to PA school, which is 2 years, it would take me the same amount of time as if I had done a PhD program starting this year. So maybe my life isn't going to hell in a handbasket. Maybe. 

a controversial and possibly alienating blog post.

You know, I try - I try - to stay out of politics now....I learned my lesson last year. But you know what, I can't do this anymore. Obama compared the "plight" of the Palestinians to that of the Holocaust. News flash: There are about six million differences why that's not true. He visits Buchenwald tomorrow, and hopefully things can be clarified for him. Though I'm not a fan of President Bush, I did like his Middle East policies. He said that the US would only engage Palestinian leaders not compromised by terror. Obama doesn't seem to agree with this. He seems to equate the moral standards of the Palestinians to those of Israelis. I'm sorry, but when was the last time you heard of an Israeli terrorist suicide bomber in the Palestinian territories? We (yes, I'm using we, I'm aware) don't strap dozens of nails to us and walk into a pizza place and blow ourselves up. We don't walk into a University cafeteria and set off a bomb that's on our vest. Rather than encouraging less settlements by Israelis, he should be encouraging the Arab world to denounce Hamas and terrorism. Maybe he should actually cross Egypt's borders and visit Israel and witness the clean-up of a suicide bomber attack. He'll see members of the Orthodox group ZAKA meticulously collecting body parts to ensure a proper Jewish burial for those killed. They also collect the body parts of non-Jews, so that their families can have a complete burial.  

Marc Thiessen, who is a former Bush speechwriter, even said this is a huge shift in US policy regarding Israel. And you know, Saturday marks 3 years since my first trip to Israel, and I'd return in a heartbeat. Yes, there is genocide all over the world, but nothing merits comparison to the Holocaust. People were shoved into gas chambers and killed, and their loved ones put their bodies in the incinerators. Those in concentration camps, when they were "lucky", used soap - but that soap was made from those who were killed. And the world watched. Since March 1933, the death camps were operating (Dachau opened then). The camp Theresienstadt, or Terezin, killed 15,000 children. And as late as 1944, the Red Cross visited the camp to see if it really was a "death camp", and the Nazis were able to fool them. And the world just watched, and read about it in the back pages of the papers. 

Where is all of this coming from?

As a Jewish woman who has had considerable religious education, I cannot adequately describe the feeling of walking through Yad V'Shem, or the DC Holocaust Museum, and having the thought, "This could have been me."  I cannot put words to looking at heaps and heaps of human hair, and glasses, and shoes, and wondering how many belonged to relatives of mine. The fact that half my family is Roman Catholic wouldn't have saved me back then. In fact, they'd probably be taken to the camps with me. I can't tell you the revulsion I felt at learning about Joseph Mengele, and imagining what my best friends' Bubbe went through at his hands when she was at Auschwitz. I grew up with the names Dachau, Auschwitz-Birkenau, Bergen-Belsen, Majdanek, Sobibor, Treblinka, among dozens of others. My kindergarten teacher showed us the numbers on her arm one day during naptime. On Yom Hashoa, we all wore golden yellow stars with "Jude" written on it, in rememberence. You don't forget these experiences, these lessons, even years and years later.  

I just had to get this off my chest. 

video.

My mom sent me this video. Heartbreaking.

tales from the 'hood...the nannyhood

The Juicy Couture Maclaren stroller....I think this may have bumped the Bugaboo as my favorite stroller....

As if my life weren't hectic and shifting enough now, the family I nannied for when I first came down here is moving. Like, moving to another state. I've known they were moving, but they leave next week! I will miss them terribly. I met them when S was pregnant with the twins, and L was almost 2. And then the twins were born 10 weeks early, and there was the 24/7 craziness of having the twins in the NICU, bringing one home, then the other one...and serendipitously, I was babysitting when each twin was brought home for the first time. Those were crazybusy days - the parents would be on the couches asleep in the living room with the twins when I got there in the morning, after being up till all hours. I don't know how they did it. And then L went through something like the "terrible 2s" and would spit food out, refuse to eat, and once, he even stabbed me in the leg with his fork. We spent many minutes sitting in time out. But then there was the night that the parents brought home a small vanilla cake and a bottle of pinot grigio for me at the end of last year, to celebrate the end of the year, not to mention the yummy PF Chang's dinner they had. I was so touched that S remembered I liked vanilla cake and white wine. This year, I wasn't able to babysit as much, because of research and school. But this family has always been in my thoughts and heart, and they will forever be entwined with me moving to Chapel Hill -- in a town where I knew no one, going to a "real home" as opposed to an apartment was a welcome respite. And the kids were always awesome. 

I've been lucky, in that respect -- I've always found really good families to work with. E and J in NJ were great, and I was actually their son's first ever babysitter! I would fall asleep on their comfy couch after putting H to bed when they would go out for dinner. M and J will always be in my life in some way, as well as their kids B and C...I have so many memories of being with them, and in many ways, they helped me get through that year. The family in my neighborhood is wonderful, and I love spending time with the kids, K and C. When I stay overnight, it doesn't even feel like work. And this new family I am babysitting for, the parents are really chill, very nice, and the kids are wonderful. The 4 year old says the funniest things - yesterday he asked me, "Are you a mom? Are you grown up?" As if the two were synonymous. Having car seats and booster seats in my car is not a novelty. It doesn't even faze me anymore. 

Of course, it's not always pink and blue and smiles and bubbles. Like today, for instance. It is HOT here right now. Like, in the 90s hot by noon. And the kids didn't really have much of a nap, so both were overtired, I think there's some sibling rivalry going on (at 10 months and 4 years), and the 4 year old fell and scraped his knee when we were playing outside. So after some damage control (cleaning the scrape and attaching a Spider-Man bandaid, then eating a Fudgsicle), we decided to stay indoors. And then the 4 year old hit the 10 month old....by the time the parents came home, I must have looked as worn out as I felt, because they joked about how I should go home and have a glass of wine. But kids will be kids, I guess. It happens. It reinforced to me just how hard taking care of kids really is. 

I am exhausted. That bottle - er, glass - of wine sounds really good right about now.