Thank goodness April (and tax day) has come and gone! I’m sort of like the Punxsutawney Phil of tax season. Unlike the groundhog who pops out of his den to either forecast six more dreary weeks of winter – or hope for an early Spring – I’m more likely to keep my head firmly stuck in the sand trying desperately to keep the taxman from noticing me.

Whoever coined the phrase about death and taxes certainly knew of what they spoke! Although it appears I have successfully avoided death for the time being, which trust me, is way up there on my list of things to do, I have yet to find a way to ease my tax angst! There are times when I wonder how anyone could work so hard and long to survive only to be hounded to death by the prospect of owing money to Uncle Sam.

To make matters worse, every year I am inundated with television commercials showing happy go lucky people kicking up their heels as they plan what they will do with their refund. The last time I remember getting money back from the government it was a whopping $32.00 and both my husband and I had to go to the bank to deposit it. I am still trying to figure out what escape they thought either of us could make on that amount. In these parts it isn’t even enough to buy a tank of gas. If you ask me, there isn’t anything very adventuresome about being able to drive around the block a couple of times. I’ve seriously thought about requesting that my neighbors wear exotic garb so I can pretend I’ve ventured to some far away tropical island, instead of simply backing in and out of my driveway.

Although I try not to wear my survivorship on my sleeve, there are times when I wish it came with just a few more perks. I’m real happy about the breathing part, but would it be too much to ask to also get a tax break? Doesn’t having the bejeezus scared out of you merit some sort of special consideration?

I’m thinking there should be a break for being used as a guinea pig. We endure months (sometimes years) of ingesting and injecting toxic mixtures – so I think it’s only fair that the government reciprocates and says have we got a deal for you! Since you’ve been such a good sport and hardly complained once about losing your hair, the feeling in your extremities, your lunch, or your ability to remember much of anything useful, we think you deserve a financial windfall.

Or perhaps they could simply grant us an environmental break because we are now much more energy efficient! Not only do most of us spend an ungodly amount of time dealing with hot flashes and profuse sweating (could it be from some of the aforementioned toxins?) if we’ve had radiation, it’s likely we can also glow in the dark! I don’t know about you, but if I could write off how useful I am as a nightlight, I’d be all for it.

Has anyone considered that women who’ve had chemo and radiation might just be able to provide the energy to run a factory, light a city, or at the very least power an automobile? What does it matter that many of us going through treatment don’t have the energy to actually drive a car! Perhaps we’ve been looking in all the wrong places for alternate forms of energy! This could be a win/win situation for everyone concerned. We get a tax break and the world at large gets the benefit of our power surges.

At the very least, I think we should be able to claim our survivor “self” as an additional deduction. My survivor self seems to think she is entitled to a few of the finer things in life to celebrate living through breast cancer. She’s known to spend way too much money on family and friends, and it’s not uncommon for her to think treats every now and then are what life is really all about. She’s apt to pay the tab for the next person in line, because it makes her feel so good. She also likes to leave little gifts in unexpected places so that the recipient gets to have one of those moments in his or her day. Unfortunately, she seems to feel that someone besides the survivor self should be responsible for footing the bills. Try as she might, she has yet to find anyone who will adopt her or become her patron – which ends up bringing me right back to trying to pay taxes.

This year, after spending way too much time fretting and wringing my hands I decided to file an extension. It’s not a perfect solution, but at least it means I can put off the inevitable just a bit longer. Now, if I can just figure out how to obtain a life extension – I’ll be all set!

(Read more about Dianne Artimage)