Don't worry. I have already been yelled at.

I know. I didn't post when I said I was going to. I forgot. Well, that's not really true. I put it off...and then I went to bed. Oops. Anyway, I'm posting now. And I think I'm going to take Katrina's advice and stop giving you a heads-up as to when I'm hoping to post. Making plans very rarely works out for me. It's not like anything really eventful was going on. I'm feelling OK, in fact, if it weren't for a headache that seems determined to stick around, I feel ...good. (Writes this cautiously as she is afraid she will jinx it) I've made up most of my sleep and I even did some errands...by myself. Ahh. So there is something I can talk about. I usually despise doing things for myself. It is so much easier to have other people do things for you. However, now that I can't do everything for myself, I am starting to want to. I know. The weird paradoxs that come with cancer. Poison body to cure it. Feeling sick means the chemo is working. Wanting to do things for yourself when you would normally love to have others do things for you.
I discovered that I wanted to drive my own car. You see... I had this parking ticket. Don't roll your eyes. It really wasn't my fault. ..Stop laughing. It wasn't. My inspection sticker had fallen off my window and I got a ticket for expired inspection while I was in Mount Kisco. I sent in everything I was supposed to but they kept messing up and I kept getting tow notices. And in all honesty this little parking ticket is so far down on my list of priorities at the moment that I really shouldn't have cared about it at all. However, it presented me with an opportunity. I could drive my car to Mount Kisco, yell at some people and maybe, if I still had energy, pick up an Easter outfit. (The one I never did manage to pick out with Marta after my last chemo.) AND, since I was feeling okay, I could do it all by myself.
Well, once I convinced my family. That was, beleive it or not, the hardest part of the entire day. Convincing my family that I didn't want them with me. I probably could have done that better. I think maybe some feelings were hurt. If they were, consider this a really, really backhanded apology. But how do you explain that your tired of being looked at as an invalid to people who continue to insist that they don't see you that way? I was feeling good for once. I wanted to go out and do something for me...alone. I didn't need a babysitter ...or a driver. I have a cell phone. I know my own limitations. I mean, this is me. I'm the first person to admit when I don't feel like doing something.
For example. Brian (cousin Brian) was doing an Eagle Scout Project. He's putting up mile markers on the bike trail. He needed adult supervision and asked Mom and I. (Once again, stop rolling your eyes and laughing. Yes, I am an adult) Once I actually spoke to him and figured out how much walking and standing around would be involved, I figured this was not something I would be up for. I love that section of the bike trail and mom and I have walked it before, but my longest walk since starting chemo was all of 45 minutes and left me exhausted. I'm not the person who is going to push herself past her limits.
Anyway. That was yesterday. Today I went with my friend Amy to NorthEast Radiology. She had some scans she was getting done and I was bored of sitting at home. Besides the parts where we almost died because Amy drives like a nut, it wasn't a bad day. I caught up on celebrity gossip in a magazine while Amy was stuck in a "donut machine". Hmm. I havn't used that one before have I. OK. Quick explanation. All of the machines that they stick you into for scans tend to be round with a hole. CT scan, PET scan, Mugga scan, MRI. They all look like donuts. Not to mention are very bad for people who are claustrophobic. (Sue you would hate them) Anyway, while Amy was in the donut I was reading some magazines. Actually, Amy found a pretty funny article about cancer patients before she went in that I finished reading. It was something like 10 things you shouldn't do, or say to cancer patients. It starts off with not telling your own story unless it has a happy ending. The author tells about how everytime she told someone that she had cancer they would come back with an aunt, cousin, best-friend's sister, who had cancer and was fiesty and brave and learned photography and oil painting during her downtime from chemo while helping in homeless shelter and curing world hunger... etc. And then when the author asked about how the incrdible brave, not going down without a fight person was doing, she often would find out that they had died. Now, I have to agree with the author on this point. You may have a great story on your hands but think through to the end. Happy ending? No? Then don't share. I thought it was funny. (I know, I'm a little twisted)
After Amy's scans we went out to lunch. She had a margarita and I watched on in envy. It was a great way to break up the day. I think she felt a little guilty about having a drink in the middle of the day for no real reason, but my philosophy is that anytime one is poked with needles and has radioactive isotopes dumped into their bloodstream, they deserve a little treat.
I really don't think that I have anything else to write. I have a lot of work to do for the egg hunt. But I think I'll save that for tomorrow's post. Just in case nothing interesting happens. Talk to ya later - Elizabeth