[fauxgypsy]

Thought I would update this. I now teach various biology courses at community college about 45 minutes from my home. Throughout grad school I did everything I could to get out of teaching. Most of the time I had a research assistantship. Because of lymphedema I could no longer do the faux finishes and found myself applying for a teaching position. Because of my diagnosis I was considered to be disabled but I did not have the quarters I needed. I had pretty much plowed all my money back into my business. I have never felt disabled except short term when I was on chemo and recovering from surgery. Within a short time I found the position I have now. I was scared to death. My throat tightened, my palms sweated, for weeks. Then it got better. I really enjoy teaching and just finished my second year. I was excited this spring when I was voted one of the favorite teachers. The students tell me and each other that I'm harder but that thery learn more. Makes me proud. There are so many things that I want to do that I don't know how long I will teach but I'm very happy with it now. I also still paint, though not as much and will be in a show in August.

Previously:
Thanks to everyone for keeping this going. I missed it as well. It is good for all of us to be reminded that we are not our diagnosis.
I was Navy brat. I can't remember all the schools I went to. I quit school in the early seventies in the midst of bomb threats and dissension during integration in the heart of Mississippi. I started college when I was in my thirties and went on to a M.S. degree in biology. I helped start a short lived literary effort called "Surfacing" and thoroughly enjoyed my University years. As my career was ramping up and I was going on for a Ph.D. in forensic science I had a reaction to a medication for my stomach and ended up clinically depressed, almost suicidal. I left school and ended up in the hospital for depression. The week after I got out, my mother died. It took months to recover. At that point I believed that I had burned my bridges and decided to follow another interest. I had taken a class in faux finishes and turned that into a fairly profitable business for many years. I also painted murals. Even after I started chemo I continued it but my mastectomy has pretty much limited what I can do physically. For some time I have been interested in getting back into science and I applied just last week to for a research position in of all things, cancer research. I am in the process of setting up a web page with my fine art, as well. In the process of writing my CV, which is scientist's version of a resume, I was reminded of all I had accomplished. It is good feeling. I am more than a cancer patient. When I was first diagnosed they told me I was stage IV, then they thought they had made a mistake. At this point I have no idea what stage I was or am but I have been NED since May of last year and I am just beginning to accept that I may have years to go.
I was married for 27 years to someone I should never have married but I have a beautiful daughter from that marriage and another wonderful daughter from before that. And five wonderful grandchilden. When Heart Sutra was writing about her relationship I thought of my husband. I was at his last wedding as the matron of honor and through all those years we stayed friends. Then one night I looked up at him and my whole world changed. I could not have gotten through this without him. My daughter told me a few months back that she thought that if I had been still married to her father when I was diagnosed that I would be dead now. I think that it is not what we do that defines us so much as who loves us and who we love. Dale has been a part of my life, on and off, for over twenty five years now and I am so glad that I have him.
We both love making things and gardening, we have many interests in common. This week we started our summer garden and planted close to 150 tomato plants. I guess you could say we like pushing our limits. His health is not good but he loves to stay busy and it is very hard to slow him down.

Leslie