It's the end of the semester and Summer marks my midway point of my Master's degree, which I am sincerely hoping allows me to transition back into one of those kickass PhD's I applied for about 2 years ago (doesn't seem that long, but it was.)

So I am sitting here knowing that I should be working on something, but trying to remember what.

Hmm, let's see.

Final #1 - done.
Final paper #1 - done.
Final paper #2 - done.

Ok, so I only have final #2 and I've already started working on a piece of it. 

Could it be I actually have a free (and guilt-free) half hour on my hands?!?!

With that in mind, I wanted to take a few moments catching up with some of my fave bloggers like Karen and Bob. Karen has a great race report up about Rev3# Knoxville, and it got me thinking . . .

I used to write half-decent race reports.

Where did they go?

I flipped through the last year's worth of races and I couldn't tell ya.  Half of them aren't even really documented and the other half are "Hey I raced . . . here are the results."  In fact, it looks like I pretty much just skip right to the results for ALL of them lately with some lame excuse like, "I'll tell ya more later."   Then I talk about what I learned from this race.

I haven't even told you about how I'm almost back to my normal size, and how I lose weight at the rate of 2 pounds per year compared to most people's a few pounds a month (that is not an exaggeration; last year at this time my low was exactly 2 pounds more than I am now). Thanks to my no-thyroid.  I could tell you how I need a new wardrobe but that ain't cheap, and how happy I am to get back to my normal size again, but instead I just say, "thanks to the thyroid meds, I'm still losing weight."  No backstory. Just results.

At first I wondered why this was.  I used to love sharing my sorrows and triumphs.  What I did wrong, what I did right, how the weather was, what my friends said.  But lately it just to take more creative energy and time than I have.

And then I also realized that I've spent the better part of last year waiting on results - from my dad's tests for his heart, from my cat's tests for his tumor, for my mom's chemo schedule, and for the latest round of tests I am going through to find out if my cancer is back.

Next up for me is an upper endoscopy, which won't even be scheduled for another month or so, so an ENT doc can look around inside my neck and confirm what's going on. The CT scan and ultrasound say the tissue is recurrent cancer, but my bloodwork says it is not.  So the endoscopy results will confirm which one of those is right. 

Results, damn it.

Here's the funny thing.  With all of this chaos going on in my life - both what I share here and what I don't - you would think I would be kind of down in the dumps.  You would think I would be slogging through a mire of misery.  You would think I would be sad, angry, and frustrated. 

And I have those reactions.  I have VERY strong reactions.  (Ask anyone who's ever lived with me - I get SUPER emotional when I first find out about something upsetting!!)  And I doubt myself.  A LOT.  (Ask anyone who's ever gotten one of my two-paragraph philosophical text messages.)  But every second after that  is filled by amazing people and places and experiences, and it doesn't take long for me to remember how lucky I am - blessed, some would say.

No, I don't have a perfect husband, I don't make a bazillion dollars, I'm not the hottest chick on the block, I'm not some award-winning PhD - I am just enjoying my life and the people in it.  No matter what happens, I pretty much fast forward to the fact that I am so happy to have the right people in my life, to have a job I enjoy that pays the bills (even if I can't go out and afford my new wardrobe), to be overall healthy and enjoying everything around me, and learning every single solitary day. 

No, lately, I skip right to the results.

For once, I don't think that's such a bad thing.

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