I sometimes worry that having cancer has changed me, for the worse.

When I was teaching, I had a student, let’s call him Tom.  We’re not supposed to have favorites, but Tom always had a little bit of my heart.  He was not the best kid in the class, in fact, he pretty much was Bart Simpson personified.  No filter in his brain, saying what he was thinking with no thought to the consequences.  In the 3 or 4 years I had him, we always worked on his filter (he was somewhat of a musical genius so we didn’t have to spend time on that.  Heh.) To give you an idea, he once told me my rear end looked like a hippo.  He wasn’t being mean, just observant.  I’m pretty sure he didn’t say it for a laugh either since there were no other students in ear shot.  Luckily, I was not offended by my hippo rear.  Part of me hopes he kept some of his frankness.  It sure made him interesting.

So I’m afraid I’m losing my filter.  I say things while at the same time in my head I’m yelling at myself, “Don’t say that out loud!  You don’t really meant that!  Stop!”  I don’t want to be a witchy woman.  I wonder if it’s the stress.  Or medication side effects.  Or just pain tolerance.

I don’t want to be witchy.  Just interesting.