Moving on

I haven't written much lately but that doesn't mean things aren't happening. In fact, many things are keeping me busy.

For one, I am looking for work. Who knew looking for work would take so much work? I have some leads but I'm not going to mention anything specific until something pans out.

I got my driver's license back yesterday! My license had been suspended for more than 11 months. It is really cool to say, "Hey Brett, I'm going to the Apple store. See you later!" Not that Brett has minded it, but it is a blow to the ego to always have to ask someone to drive you around. "Hey Brett, will you take me to get some tampons?" "Hey Brett, will you take me to coffee?" "Hey Brett, will you take me to Borders so I can waste time and just look at books because I am bored out of my mind?" I am sure you can imagine how annoying this could be (to both of us).

Today I drove myself to a cancer support group hosted at Kaiser. This was my second visit to the group. I like going because I know the group understands what I am talking about... but I don't like going because everyone in the group is waaaaaaaaaaaaaay older than me and out of treatment. It seems like support groups are more for "survivors". If you are going through treatment the last thing you want to do is talk about your cancer because it consumes your life. But I don't feel like my treatment consumes my life... my treatment is something I am going to have to live with for a while.

On the way to the support group I had an anxiety moment when I realized that I could have a seizure at any time and crash. Of course, reality kicks in as soon as I experience the anxiety and I rationally explain to myself that my seizures are controlled and I will be just fine. But still, I can feel the physical anxiety in my body, and it manifests in my right side just like my seizures. Yes, I realize all this is in my head, but it feels real at the moment. The only way I can move on is to tell myself, "This is all in your head--no pun intended--just breathe and everything will be alright." And things are always alright in the end.

Liz Salmi

Liz Salmi is Communications & Patient Initiatives Director for OpenNotes at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center in Boston. Over the last 15 years Liz has been: a research subject; an advisor in patient stakeholder groups; a leader in “patient engagement” research initiatives; and an innovator, educator and investigator in national educational and research projects. Today her work focuses on involving patients and care partners in the co-design of research and research dissemination. It is rumored Liz was the drummer in a punk rock band.

https://thelizarmy.com
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On the driving front

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Chemo convinces me to do things like this