SetBACK

I am in the midst of a setback, due specifically to my physical back. Those of you who know me quite well also know that my lower back decides to seize up on me from time to time. This time I felt impending doom the morning of the Race for a Cure. I even texted Brenda to let her know how I felt and that I would just have to ignore it until after the race.
The causes of my condition are many: weak core; not doing core strengthening exercises for said core; stressful, busy times (but a good stressful), etc... In addition to the causes, I’m guessing that the catalyst for this particular injury was the barbecue Costco trip Meja and I went on the evening before the race.

Needless to say, I made it through the race, literally running and weaving through it. Thousands of people showed up, the vast majority of which walked. We had great team representation with a combination of people cheering both Lee and I on. I ran with Meja, Brenda, and Caryn the whole way. We crossed the finish line together, hand in hand, arms raised high.
And then as if on cue, my back went and muscles spasms started almost immediately after the finish Other than that and momentarily losing Porter, it was a fabulous morning.
I was feeling better enough by Monday morning that I wasn’t worried about going to work. That feeling lasted pretty much until Thursday morning, after I bent over to pick up a bag. Before I even had the bag in my hand I felt it, and continued feeling it the rest of the day. I hobbled my hunched up, bunched up body to school, determined to get through the day. Unfortunately it got bad enough that the large amounts of ibuprofen I was taking weren’t even making a dent, and I had to call in for an afternoon sub so I could go home. Sigh…..
The biggest bummer of this whole situation is that I had to miss run number six. I had run five 5Ks in 5 weeks and really wanted to believe I would be doing my sixth last Saturday. It was the Girls on the Run running program annual 5K. At 5:21 the morning of the race, I admitted defeat and texted Brenda to let her know that I would not be joining her for the race.
I am too busy to deal with a back that is preventing me from doing much of anything, yet it’s probably the way my body is telling me I’m too busy doing everything. That’s an exaggeration, I don’t do everything, but what I do keep myself busy doing I enjoy very much. Even the good stress gets you! Ah, to truly eat your cake and have it too!

Kellie "Like"

Sunday morning Clint says to me, "You're not being very Kellie-like," followed with, "What happened to go with the flow?"
Kellie "like." Hmmmm.  What exactly does that mean? It means something different now than it did 10 years ago. And though Clint was applying it to a couple of specific situations, it really applies to most aspects of my life. I don't believe I'm a different person per se, just that I think differently. Here's what I mean:
Kellie-like then meant a plethora of wrist watches and Franklin planners. Now it means NEVER wearing a watch, losing track of time and managing my calendar instead of my calendar managing me.
It meant believing that things happened for a reason and now believing that good and bad things happen and you make reason from it, as you choose, for better or worse.
It meant being more cynical and suspicious while now I can't help but give everyone the benefit of the doubt and believe good can be found in every person, often to the point of naivete.
It meant not wanting company because the house was a mess and now it means not wanting to miss out on company even if the house is a mess.
It meant getting by on being deceptively fit, and now it means being a runner.
It meant files, ledgers and balancing the checkbook, and now it means that Clint is bewildered as to why Directv won't let him order the fights because the bill hasn't been paid. (Thank goodness he opened the one that threatened to shut off our power!)
It meant being the go-to-girl for graduate school projects and organization to becoming the girl that was going to everyone else for due dates, instructions, and follow-through.
It meant getting from point A to point B without any variation and now it means we might stop for an overnight stay along the way to our destination. No hurries, no worries.
I'm sure there are things that have been more constant over time, only those of you have known me before, after and during truly know. I personally feel that I've evolved more than I've actually changed, that some tendies were suppressed while others became more enhanced.

Most importantly it means moving along a continuum from judgement to more compassion, from making assumptions to taking the time to know and from taking things personally to realizing that it's so much more than just about me.  

Which is why I went with the flow and gave in on getting a family dog, then topped it off with a Kellie-like thing and insisted we get two! More on our new families will be posted soon!

 

Two Weeks Notice!

Race for the Cure is TWO WEEKS from today! I'm very excited to be participating as a runner, team member and fundraiser! My team is in the Top 10 for fundraising! BUT we haven't reached our goal, YET! Please, please, please contribute or join our team ASAP!
If you register by MAY 6 then your bib and t-shirt are mailed to you! Woohoo! You can actually contribute money up until May 31 for it to count as Race for the Cure funds, but I will stop bugging people about it after the race.
Once again, here is the link to my team page: http://slc.info-komen.org/site/TR/RacefortheCure/SLC_SaltLakeCityAffiliate?team_id=204249&pg=team&fr_id=2479

You can donate to the team in general, or to any of the individual teammates listed. Porter and Parker each have a goal of $5.
The Race for the Cure will be my FIFTH race since turning forty, and it celebrates 5 years of being a survivor! We are also dedicating this race to my dear friend Lee as she starts her fight against cancer!

On a slightly different note, I did my third race today, Color Me Rad. It was a family and friends effort and way too much fun! Parker was able to volunteer through the Utah Down Syndrome Foundation, and Dad and Porter were his volunteer buddies. Fun was had by all!

I've Come A Long Way, Baby!

I just finished a 5 mile run in under an hour! That's a HUGE achievement for me. I started running a little over 2 years ago for my heart, then my health, and now my life. I began with the Couch to 5K program. I was mostly an interval runner, meaning I would run for 30-60 seconds then walk 60-90 seconds. The first non-stop distance I ran outside was .6 miles and it took me over 8 minutes. When I finally got up to running a full mile, I was able to do it in 15 minutes. People could walk faster than I ran! Luckily, a former classmate of mine that I ran into at our 20 year reunion is now a personal trainer. Steve gave me a personal work up to help me with my cardiovascular endurance. It was the guidance for the gradual and sustained improvement I needed.

Fast forward 2+ years. If I run harder than usual I can sustain an 11 minute mile for 2 miles.  Today, running at a normal pace, I averaged 11:52 for 5 miles. Actually, for the first 4 miles I averaged 11:38; mile 5 was a killer! This was my second 5 mile run of the year, and I'm thrilled with the results! I can't believe that I used to say that I would never be a runner, and I'm so glad that it isn't the truth.
This past weekend I finished the first of my 40 races to celebrate turning 40. My 5th scheduled race is going to be the Race for a Cure. My team name is 5 for 5, and that's because I'm running a 5K to celebrate my 5 years of being a survivor. I'm also running for my dear friend Lee, who is a member of the team too. She just recently started her fight with this disease. If you're reading this post, and you haven't already, please consider joining our team and/or donating to Komen SLC. The only reason I can do extraordinary things is because of the extraordinary support I have from the extraordinary people in my life! THANK YOU!

Lake Powell Birthday

     

How do I even begin to describe the most perfect 40th birthday! I can't, but you can see it in pictures. Surrounded by extraordinary views, wrapped in the sun's warmth, rocked by the waters of Lake Powell; experiencing all that with some of the best people on the planet! Beats the hospital bed I was in 5 years ago! So grateful for my life and all that is part of it!

Running for My Life

• Idea: Run 40 races to celebrate 40 years of life.
• I have said, on more than one occasion, "I will never be a runner." 
• Heart issues after chemo lead me to consider running, the efficiency of it being a big factor.
• My BFF Brenda starts me on the Couch to 5K program.
• Ran my first 5K and 10K 8 months later.
• Participated in Ragnar 2011.
• Facebook status November 27, 2011: I'M A RUNNER!
• Signed up for the first of my next 40 races 
• Raising money for Race for the Cure this year to celebrate surviving cancer and chemo 5 years ago!

"R" Words

Last week, I heard an "R" word that I really don't like. Hearing it causes a slight pause, internal cringing, and a little sadness. I went to urgent care for a sinus  infection, and though it is the facility we often visit, the particular provider that day was one that none of us had ever seen before. It's just so much easier to deal with someone who is somewhat familiar with our health situations. I don't particularly enjoy giving the rundown of the past 4+ years, answering additional questions, and then receiving reactions that range from pity to incredulity.

After the initial glance through my chart, assessment of current reasons for being there, and some clarifications she asked the question, "So you're in REMISSION?" Ugh, I hate that word, and for the record I don't hear it often, not even from my oncologist. I don't want to answer that specific question and my answer, when I've had to give it, has been more of an awkward and uncomfortable, "ah huh" with head nodding. But the answer that is in my heart trying to leap through my throat is, "No, I'm CURED!" Cured is a freeing, light, and energizing word that propels me into an active life full of the future and a birthday at 93. Remission is word that is like quicksand, sucking down my body and burying my dreams.

Thank goodness I see this sign around town on billboards and buses almost daily:

July 15, 2009 "Enough Already!"

I have a high tolerance for pain, not bragging or anything, just stating a fact. Porter also has a high tolerance to pain, though for a different reason. I think his tolerance is related to his cerebral palsy which actually has made him numb in a sense. I’m not sure what my pain tolerance used to be about, but I know what it’s about now, the need to “feel.” When I’m in pain, recovering from surgery, it gives me a sense that something was done, no pain no gain right? That whatever was done “to me” is what is going to make me better. In a weird way it makes me feel more “alive.”
In general, I have always had a dislike of taking medications, even a simple Ibuprofen. Our medicine “cabinet” was actually just a small Tupperware container filled with a few medications, most of which went bad before even half the bottle was gone. I used to have pretty bad allergies that I would just suffer through (usually ending up with laryngitis, bronchitis, or both) because I didn’t want to take the meds for it. I hate the way meds make me feel and I believe they’re not really helping, just masking the real problem.

Then came cancer, and surgeries, and chemo which meant lots and lots of medications. There were pre and post medications; medications for the side effects other medications would give me; medications on stand-by; IV, pill, and liquid medications. Medications, medications, medications! UGH! It’s been over 2 years of various types of treatments and I have almost 5 full bottles of lortab and Percocet left over, and would have had even more had I filled all the prescriptions. (Lucky for me that my genes aren’t pre-wired for addiction). For someone who went from taking practically nothing, ever, to someone who was being pumped full of different drugs on a regular basis was really difficult for me, still is. I want to be off all meds as soon as possible. I have 3 years left of Tamoxifen (for breast cancer) and I’m still on Celexa and my heart meds.

I’ve been off my anti-depressant/anti-anxiety med for about a week. I didn’t do it on purpose. I waited until I was out to get a refill then noticed I had zero refills left. So then I had to wait for the pharmacy to contact my Dr. (which I probably could have done but I left it up to them). I kept remembering and then forgetting to call the pharmacy to find out if the refill was approved and filled. Finally, I learned it was ready and asked Clint to pick it up for me on the way home. He did, but accidently left it at the checkout counter, so I still don’t have it. I’m guessing that my insomnia can be attributed to my not taking said medication, at least partly. My mood seems okay, but if I remember right, it took 2 weeks of being off this med last summer before the anxiety took control of my mind, after which I immediately got back on the meds. So, though I’m tempted not to, I will be going back on Celexa at least until my next oncology check up in September. I’ll let the professional wean me off it.

As for my heart meds, I need to see the cardiologist, an appointment I’ve been putting off. I just don’t want to add another Dr. appointment to our summer, so we’ll see about the fall. I don’t have to see my plastic surgeon for a year! And I’ll be seeing my regular surgeon in 6 months. I think I’ll be going to 6 months for cancer check-ups as well. I’m not going to get too excited about an end in sight or anything. Like I’ve mentioned before, Dr. appointments are our extracurricular activity and I’m sure it will be for many years to come.

July 11, 2009 "Hip Hip Hairay!"

Here’s a quick hair recap from pre-chemo to the present

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January 2007

Before Chemo

 January 2007 was when I first discovered the lump in my left breast. In April I had my hair cut to lessen the shock for Porter and Parker.

   

Summer Scarfs

I spent my chemo summer in scarfs.

My mom made me about a dozen of them.

Wig for Work

I started wearing a wig to work for the new school year.

People were shocked when I eventually told them about it.

December

FebruaryMarch

March

Here I’m sportin’ short hair. I’m not sure that I would have ever purposely chosen to have hair that short, but I loved it!

JuneJuly

July

 Summer 2008, one year after chemo

.

September 2008

This was my 2008 school picture.

 Yes, I still get school pictures.

San Fran in October

January 2009

Last fall and winter.

Straight

Curly

Here’s me now! I can have a straight or curly do! Not sure where I’ll go next, but I think I’m just going to keep changing it!

July 9, 2009 "Picture Perfect"

Family Reunion / Henry's Lake, Island Park

Inconvenient location, forms to fill out, long lines, terrible service; any guesses? I’m headed to the DMV today to replace my stolen license, a license that has been missing since May 22. That should give some indication of how eager I am to do this. In fact, I brought my passport from when I was 2 (had my birth date on it) and my University ID to the last girls night we had so that I could get into a bar. Talk about inconvenient!  So this morning I will be preparing myself for my “photo,” one that will last into the next decade, if not lost or stolen before then.

I’ve become a bit of a stranger to pictures, especially if you consider my history. My high school years were spent in a darkroom, mixing chemicals, loading film, and developing pictures as a photographer for the school paper. I also spent time at athletic games and other school functions capturing moments of high school high jinks. Then as a teacher, I was the yearbook advisor at my middle school for 6 years. For many years of my life a camera was pretty much just an extension of my arm.
In the first year of Porter’s life, I went through at least 50 rolls of film. Clint would often joke that we needed to add another line item to our budget for film purchase and developing alone. That wasn’t far from the truth especially if you figure in all the portraits we had taken (3 months, 6 months, 9 months, etc…) In fact, I documented each day of the first 20 days of his life, the entire time he spent at Primary’s in the NICU. That was the first album I did for him and I filled several more after that, diligently “scrapbooking” my way through the next 5 years of his life.
I would always have a camera at different gatherings of friends and family, snapping away to create those perfect memories for future enjoyment. What I eventually came to realize was that my need to create memories was interfering with the actual moment I was supposed to be enjoying.

Fast forward to now. I haven’t done a scrapbook for Parker, not one. I had Parker’s 1 year pictures taken on his birthday, which happened to be the day my wallet was stolen, and I have yet to go in and place my order (also on my list for today). I now often hear “I’m surprised Kellie doesn’t have her camera. She always has a camera.” I have once again become the yearbook advisor, but this time around I forget to bring my camera more than half the time and have to go back to my room to grab it, hoping that I remembered to charge the batteries.
I know when it was that things changed, it started after Parker was born and continued as I went through chemo, surgeries, and recovery for breast cancer. I did document Parker’s early life, he too spent time in the Primary’s NICU. But I did not like the fact that we were having a repeat performance there. To be honest, I was having a difficult time dealing with the fact that Parker had Down Syndrome. I continued to take pictures of his development, skipped the 3 month portraits, but got the 6 and 9 month ones. So I have pictures of Parker’s first year, but none are in an album or scrapbook of any sort.

Unfortunately, the end of Parker’s first year corresponded with my breast cancer diagnosis and the beginning of my treatments. By his first birthday I was bald. There are very few pictures, comparatively speaking, of our family during 2007. And since then, I have found that I just want to be in the moment and taking pictures seems to interfere with that. Looking through a lens seems artificial to me now, with all the posing and posturing. I often feel like taking a picture stops the momentum of the experience that is unfolding in front of me. I want to see things as they are. I know there is a compromise and I’m searching for it. Photography was a love of mine, not that I hate it now, I just think of it differently. The challenge is being able to create what I really do see in the moments that I see them and for the pictures I take to reflect that. The picture above illustrates what I’m attempting to explain. It is one of the few pictures I took during 2007.

June 26, 2009 "Hope and Heartache"

Hope and heartache or heartache and hope. It’s the age old question of the chicken and the egg. Which comes first? Does heartache follow failed hope? Or does hope follow painful heartache? Probably a little of both.

For me, I’ve had both for better or worse. The heartache of a premature baby and a life changed forever then the hope of a better than expected recovery and prognosis. The heartache of not knowing if he’ll walk and when he does the hope that he’ll also be able to ride a bike one day. The heartache in watching him attempt to communicate through speech that is so difficult to understand but hope in how he compensates and still manages to get what he wants. The heartache when a teacher has had it with your child and the hope that she will soon see him for who he is (she did). The heartache of seeing how OCD and anxiety debilitate him but the hope of answers from a newly found doctor.

The heartache of not being able to conceive a child but the hope that fertility methods give us. The heartache of learning our child may be born with Down Syndrome and the hope that the odds are in our favor. The heartache of having another child born with a disability and the hope that the severity will be minimal. The heartache others feel for us and our “situation” and the hope they’ll come to feel when they see just how much we’ve come to embrace our “situation.” The heartache of dreams lost and the hope of new ones to come.

The heartache of a breast biopsy that comes back positive for cancer and a hope that it doesn’t mean certain death. The heartache of mastectomies, but the hope that reconstructive surgery gives. The heartache of chemo and its devastating effects on your quality of life but the hope that it will improve the quality of the rest of your life. The heartache of participating in the Race for a Cure and seeing the tens of thousands of lives affected and a hope of unity in the belief that someday there will be a cure. The heartache of finding a cyst in an ovary and subsequent hysterectomy and the hope that the cyst is benign. The heartache of being told that adoption isn’t really an option right before said hysterectomy and the hope that that means just for now.

So it seems that most of my hope has been borne out of heartache. And here I find myself once again. Watching Porter struggle through school has been heartbreaking, not only as a parent, but also as a teacher. Thank goodness he has a fantastic memory, an overabundant curiosity, and a love for the social aspect of school. Overall, his frustration level hasn’t interfered, yet. We have recently had Porter evaluated by a pediatric optometrist who specializes in reading and learning difficulties. He seems to have the answer, a very expensive answer. It means therapy, 2 times a week for 32 weeks along with home therapy exercises, then a month off and then 2 months of once a week therapy sessions. It’s a lot, but it will be well worth the time and money if it works. We can’t not try.

June 21, 2009 "Update"

From time to time I’ll do a quick update on previous posts. Here’s the first.

Let’s Play Doctor – Since that post which was about 2 ½ weeks ago, we’ve only had 5 doctor appointments which include a couple for my mom. She’s getting her teeth fixed by our dentist here, who also happens to be our neighbor. We have 4 doctor appointments scheduled for next week: Parker’s 3 year well child check, Porter’s teeth extraction, a follow-up for my scar “surgery”, and consultation about Porter’s vision (more on that to come).

Technology – I figured out the reason the Parker picture was so small when I first posted it had nothing to do with what I sent from my phone, but how I had chosen the size option on the website. We’ve been without TV for about a week, and I haven’t missed it, AT ALL. I also know that I don’t speak for the rest of the family. The repairman will be here today.

Mommy Wars – I’m still enjoying my time at home. I’m busy all the time, as I was when working, but it’s just a different kind of busy. We’re busy doing nothing sometimes as well.

M-A-Y – I had to say and then correct my name when I was signing the boys up for swim lessons. After I stated my name, the clerk says, “Is that M-A-Y-N-E?” That’s a first, two extra letters. I’m sure it was because the counter was right outside the aerobics room where an instructor was enthusiastically urging her class to keep up with her.

Golden, Lonely, or Eerie? – I ended up writing my blog and reading for class, which I was late for even though it started an hour and half after the normally scheduled time. But it worked out because the Professor was later than I was.

Surgery #13? – My incision is still under wraps. I just hope it’s behaving itself in there. I don’t want an incision on steroids. I didn’t take any pain meds this time around. Besides not liking pain meds, there’s something about feeling that pain that makes you believe that something was accomplished. You know the saying, no pain no gain.

So there you have it! Have I left anything out?

June 19, 2009 "Surgery #13?"

If I was numbed, cut, cauterized, and stitched, does that count as a surgery? If so, the procedure I had today was lucky number 13. Here’s the run down. I’ve had an appendectomy, emergency C-section, septoplasty, C-section, breast biopsy, left breast mastectomy, portacath placement, portacath removal, prophylactic right breast mastectomy and tissue expander placement, breast expanders to implants exchange, hysterectomy, nipple and areola reconstruction, and today’s scar revision. I’m hoping this will be the last surgery I have for the next very long while.

As you can tell by the picture, or maybe not, this was a red, angry, raised scar that was actually uncomfortable and painful at times. I think all the anger I had was focused here in this one little area on my body where it showed up like a neon sign. It’s the scar from my port catheter, or as I affectionately referred to it, my robot button. It’s been cut into 4 times, including today. Once to put the port in, once to take it out, again during nipple reconstruction when my plastic surgeon tried to make it look better the first time, and again today. It was the easiest procedure yet!

My doctor still asked me the standard questions this afternoon: “Are you allergic to any medications?” Nope, I’m pretty sure I’d definitely know that by now if I were, and thank goodness I’m not considering all the drugs that have coursed through my body. “Do you need a prescription for pain meds?” Again, nope. I fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, have a high tolerance for pain and have so much leftover pain medication that I could probably start my own pharmacy.

Though my surgeries number 13, I know someone who has me beat, by far. His name is Joel Hopkin and you can read about him or watch this news clip. He’s someone I knew a long time ago in Idaho Falls. You should check out his incredible story on Caring Bridge and consider his family’s request that you become a blood donor. I had to have a transfusion after I had my hysterectomy. It was scary, but thank goodness they had me matched, typed, and blood set aside before I was even admitted.  

So my advice to you would be make sure that you and/or your loved ones are doing their breast self exams (feel those boobies!) and if you’re able to, donate blood!

June 13, 2008 "Reminder"

What you’ll read below was orignally posted on my Caring Bridge page. I’m posting it again because I need a reminder to continue to enjoy life’s moments. My summer vacation just started, and will continue for the next 9 weeks. I want to be sure to insert spontaneity into the structure of our summer schedule. We definitely have things we need to accomplish, but overall we need to enjoy one another and the moments we share together. I still don’t wear watches, and still don’t have a clock in my classroom (it drives the kids nuts!).

TUESDAY, JANUARY 01, 2008 01:26 AM, CST
GIFTS
I used to be obsessed with time. I’d get a new watch every Christmas, different styles and colors to go with different clothes. I currently have 5 watches right now and only one of them is working. It’s the “night, night” watch, my Timex with the Indiglo. I’ve stopped wearing watches because I no longer want time to have control over me, I want control over it. It’s nice to slow down, breathe and enjoy the moments. In fact, I don’t have a clock in my classroom. I replaced it with a sign that says, “Time is passing, are you?” So this is one of the “gifts” cancer gave me.

It’s difficult for me to say that cancer gave me anything good, though I know it did. I just don’t want to give credit for wonderful things to something so hideous. Cancer also gave me a sense of freedom or liberation. I don’t think you would have caught me dancing on a piano at the Tavernacle or on a table at the Contempo company party a year ago. But since I’m living more in the moment, and caring a lot less about what other people think, I expect to have more spontaneous and joyful experiences in the future!

I’ve also experienced some what of a rebirth over the past year. I did not particulary enjoy being reduced to a completely flat chested and hairless woman. But who remembers growing hair from nothing? Since it probably happened in infancy, I don’t think anyone remembers, especially girls. I know that guys shave their heads from time to time, so they get it. So not only do I get to experience a facet of infancy, I get to experience puberty too! My doctor says my breasts are puberty size right now. Funny that he says that because I think I might be a little bigger now than I was last year at this time, and that’s only with 150 ccs in each side.

One other “gift” was there all along, all the wonderful people in my life. I already knew that I had a fabulous family, friends, neighbors, and coworkers and now medical staff. But my appreciation for them has grown and so has my need to spend more time with them. I also enjoy every moment, just about. Simple moments, quiet moments, quick moments, living in the moment. It’s a fun way to spend time with my boys, my big boy, little boy and baby boy. Don’t let Porter know I called him a little boy.

June 11, 2009 "Drama"

I know misery. It’s being incapacitated to the level of not even being able to watch tv, trying not to hate your prepubescent and hairless body, feeling the excruciating pain of your bones creating more white blood cells, and attempting to survive a treatment that feels like it’s killing you without wishing you were dead. That’s misery, and I want to be as far from it as possible.

I never really understood the advice of “Live each day as if it were your last,” until being diagnosed with breast cancer. For me that advice came to mean that I would make a conscious effort to enjoy each day, to recognize that there was some good in everyone and everything, and to be present in each moment. I put those beliefs into practice by living my life a day at a time and making a choice to be happy each day.

My personal life philosophy is causing some difficulty in my professional life. There has been a lot of conflicts at work this year. It has been a year of transition and change for a few reasons, the most significant being a new administration. Anxiety and stress levels are through the roof, I recognize that. People are frustrated, I get that. There are feelings of anger, despair, and hopelessness, I feel that. The majority of those I work with seem miserable and as I mentioned above, I want to be as far from misery as possible.

So some assume that I’m in denial about what’s going on at work or that I’m clueless or cold, or that I lack empathy, or that I don’t care when in reality I have just chosen to respond to the situation in a different way.
The perception has become that because I’m not “with” them that I must be against them. I don’t believe that it’s that black and white. Just because you’re not “with” a group, doesn’t mean that you’re against them, but that’s the line that’s been drawn.

 I have not been mean or malicious to anyone. I have not mistreated anyone. I have been snubbed and ignored by others. I have been left out and ostracized as well. I do appreciate those few individuals who have taken the time to test the assumptions by asking me directly about my perceived “motives.” I tell them that I’m just trying my best to do more than survive this life, but that I’m trying to get enjoyment out of my life by having positive interactions and experiences. I don’t think that’s something that I should be made to feel guilty about or have to apologize for.