Falling Off the Soapbox - over and over again...

Ring Them Bells

2012-02-10T17:37:00.000-05:00

"Happy Cancerversary!"

That was the first contact that I had with someone this morning. And it happened to be from my Honey. And was perfect. He is the only one that remembered and I'm ok with that. He's the only one that I want/need to remember.

Above is my bell. It is engraved "For my Baby, the strongest person I'll ever know."

He gave me that bell to celebrate my last day of Chemo on February 10, 2009. I have rung that bell every February 10th since, and will continue to do so. It is the most special present I've ever received. I only wish he could hear me ring it. But I know he will. Just not today.

I've been struggling with a lot recently. Much of this is personal so I'm not going to write about it in detail here. But I will say that I've been writing about it. I've been writing notes and letters. Why? Because that's how I deal with things. Writing is important to me. I settle things that way. I can organize my thoughts and make them more coherent. I can be happy, angry or cry in my writing. It's something that's all MINE.

I went through years, decades really of not writing all because something I had written 20 years ago was not received as I had hoped by the person I gave it to. It was a poem. They read it and immediately said (paraphrasing) "I don't understand why poetry means anything. It's just a bunch of crappy words written down that are supposed to be beautiful and meaningful and they just aren't." And so, I stopped writing.

But when my Honey came along, that changed. I started writing again. I started getting things out of my head. I started being ME again. I can never thank him enough for that. Never.

And so, in an attempt to get things out of my head, to make them more coherent and force them to make sense, I wrote a letter to my Honey - one that I will never send. I realize people usually write these types of letters when they are trying to get over someone, when they are trying to let things go. It is the opposite for me. I write these letters to deal with my feelings. To deal with my fears. To deal with my future plans and visions. To deal with waiting. To deal with my love. I write these letters because if I don't, I will likely explode from the thoughts in my head. I am inherently a sharing person, but these thoughts aren't meant to be shared with anyone but the subject of the letter. And sharing those thoughts with him right now is not possible.

But I want to share. I want to scream from the mountaintops. But I can't. Best I can do it make sure my feelings are known, and keep the intricate details to myself. Best I can do is wait until he wants to know more. And so I wait.

So as a compromise to my internal "send or do not send" fight, I will post a short excerpt from the beginning and end of the current letter - just so maybe you can get an idea of how much writing helps. And maybe this posting will help me to get my thoughts into the universe.

If you've never written a letter like this, you should really try.

"I want to say so much to you. I want to tell you everything that’s in myheart and on my mind and I don’t like not being able to. And if I could, would it be right? Maybe. Maybe not. Of course, selfish mewants to pull out all the stops until you’re back in my arms. Selfish me wants to tell you everything andsend this letter. Selfish me wants to tugat your heartstrings and scream “pick me, love me, stay with me”, but at thesame time I don’t want you to feel that conflict. I don’t want you to feel pain. And I don’t want to overwhelm you, which Ibelieve all this might do. And so, thisis the letter I won’t be able to send, even though every part of my being wantsyou to read my thoughts. To hear mythoughts. To know my thoughts. This letter says way too much and way toolittle at the same time. It is a love letter to you and to us. It is a window into my soul…"

"Maybe you will read this eventually, as we cuddle on thecouch and look out at the fresh snow from the house you built for us inMontana. Until then, I will keepwriting."

I love my Honey. There is nothing more to say.

Singing Lessons

2012-01-31T09:59:00.000-05:00

OK. You may commencelaughter.

Yes, I’m thinking about taking singing lessons. And I’m absolutely serious about this. I found a teacher in Waterford, about a halfhour away from my house. I’ve alsoconsidered trying books and CDs, but I think an actual PERSON would be a betterbet for me.

I truly have no desire to be a professional singer. But I love music so much that it kills me knowingthat I can’t really sing. I can imitate tosome extent, but honestly I know I’m off key on a fairly regular basis and Ihate it. I know that some people arenatural singers, and I’m not kidding myself – I am not one of them. But my dad was an AMAZING singer and so is myoldest son, so I’ve got to have some singing blood floating around in my body. I just need to bring it to the surface. And for the record, I can do a pretty sexyversion of happy birthday when I have someone around who truly deserves it. So I’ve got that going for me.

Back in the early 90’s when I was hanging out with therenaissance festival crowd (don’t judge, they’re good people), we went out to abar one night and they had a singing contest. One of the guys in our group jumped up on stage and sang Little Sisterlike it was the most natural thing in the world. No practice, didn’t know the band backing himup. Nothing. And he kicked some serious ass.

I want to do that. Spur of the moment singing. Infact, I do that already, even though I sound, uhm, not so good. But I don’t much care, I’m going to singanyways. Singing makes me happy. Even if it’s just the Rubber Duckysong. Singing is singing. But I do have an innate desire to soundbetter. Granted, sounding better wouldlikely cause me to sing in public more…so for those of you that actually hangout with me in person, prepare yourselves.

Doggie Thoughts

2012-01-30T10:38:00.000-05:00

I had another one of those epiphanies this morning. I know, you’re tired of them. But it’s different this time. This one was about my dog.

I have an almost 4 year old Great Dane named Emmie who was arescue. Well, theoretically a triple rescue. Rescue group got her from a shelter. Someone adopted her, and then decided theycouldn’t keep her. I took her. So yes, she’s been shuffled around alot. But she’s been with me for a yearnow and will stay.

The thing is, she doesn’t always like people. Especially male people. It takes her a LONG time to warm up to anymale that comes into my house. But Icouldn’t figure out why she likes some better than others. I couldn’t figure out how some of them canactually bribe her with treats, and some she’s still not crazy about. Then I started thinking about who was who,and how *I* react to those people.

Basically, the more I care about someone, the more she’suncomfortable. It’s not like I don’tCARE about my friends and family. It’sjust that the people (or person) that I have more of an emotional attachment to(i.e. romantically) seem to have serious difficulty “winning her over”. She does NOT like me to spend time with them. Maybe because she feels she’s beingreplaced? Maybe because she feels likeshe should be my protector, not some piddly useless human. (I’m quite sure that’s how she would sayit.) Maybe because she feels like my friendsand family only “visit”, yet someone like this might be around for longer? It all kind of makes sense now.

And so, what do I do?

Well, I’m just not sure but I’m working on it. It’s hard to explain to someone that it’s notthat my dog doesn’t like you, it’s that she doesn’t like how much *I* like you. It’s further hard to explain to them that it’snot unfixable, and that I’m not going to let my animals run my life. I may have had priorities out of line in thepast, but they’re right where they should be now. She will get used to it. She really doesn’t have a choice in the matter. Does that mean I’m going to send anyone packingout in the snow and hope she gets rescued a fourth time? Absolutely not. I love my dog. I will work with my animals, but the bottomline is if I decide I want someone in my life, they’re going to be there. And she will just need to deal.

And furthermore, the people in my life need to realize thattoo. But that’s a post for another day.

The priority ducks are lining up nicely in a perfect littlerow. About damn time.

Story of the Day - Enough Fluid

2012-01-26T07:00:00.001-05:00

So very much me...

Severed Heads and Other Stuff

2012-01-23T22:13:00.002-05:00

In a conversation earlier today, someone very important tome told me that he thought he was going to die when his head became severedfrom his body. He SWORE he just knew,though he did say it wasn’t going to happen anytime in the near future. (thank the gods.)

Now, I realize that’s a bit graphic and gruesome, but that’sreally not what this post is about. Talkingto him made me realize that I have the same sorts of “feelings”. In fact, I think I always knew I was going toget cancer. How? I’m not sure exactly, but I remember seeingthe Rose Cancer Center years ago at Royal Oak Beaumont Hospital and thinking“hey, that looks familiar, bet I’m going to be there a lot”. And so I was…

There are other “feelings” too, from cities and houses thatseem overly familiar to me, to people that I swear I’ve known forcenturies. When my momma was alive, shewould say that it was because I had an “old soul”. Perhaps true. It does make me feel like a serious badass tothink that I have an “old soul”. But isthat actually a good thing?

The thing is, I really feel like the cancer is going to comeback. I hate to even write that or sayit out loud, but it’s unfortunately how I feel. Could it be just paranoia? Perhaps. Could my unconsciousknow something? Perhaps. Could I just be looking for a reason to nottruly live? Perhaps. Who the hell knows.

And no, I didn’t say I was going to die ofcancer. Just that my argument with itisn’t quite over.

Thinking that the cancer will be back at some unknown pointin the future does cause its issues, basically because the cancer almost killedme. And believe it or not, I’m nottalking about physically. The cancersucked the “me” out of “me”. It stole SOmuch from me, just about everything short of my life. Even when I was cancer free, I was still achanged person in the end. And not all for thebetter. But I clawed my way out and ammoving forward. Baby steps back to thereal me.

That being said, can I really put my friends/family/love inthat position again? Can I really askthem to watch “me” disappear while I climb into my hole and try tosurvive. How fucking unfair is THAT? Granted, the majority would happily be thereto support me. But can I really ask themto potentially put up with me turning into Ms. Queen “don’t touch me” Bitchagain? I’m not so sure. At the same time, is it fair to run away just because ITHINK something might happen? Uhm…Nope. So where does thatleave things?

I may not have answers, but in the meantime I will try andfigure out which visions are truly visions, and which are just myimagination. Hypochondria does run in myfamily…

And I offer up a sincere apology to those who had to enduremy BS last time. Although I’ve still gotthat “feeling,” the fact of the matter is that I am currently alive andwell. To give up and shut down at thisearly point in the game just seems like quitting. And those of you that know me, know thatquitting isn’t really my forte’.

Maybe someday people will be able to forgive “cancer”me. I’m certainly trying to. And in the spirit of it all, since I AMcurrently alive and well, I’m going to do my best to hold tightly to what’struly important. If the goddam cancer comes back, fine. I will deal with it then. I’m a little too busy living right now to letmyself continue to obsess about it.

"Lantern" by Josh Ritter

2012-01-23T16:03:00.000-05:00

Songs get stuck in my head often these days. This is what currently resides there…And yes,this is folky. Deal people. The lyrics kick some serious ass.

For every cry in the night

Somebody says have faith

Be content inside your questions

Minotaurs inside a maze

Tell me what’s the point of light

That you’ve got to strike a match to find?

So throw away those lamentations

We both know them all too well

If there’s s a book of jubilations

We’ll have to write it for ourselves

So come and lie beside me darling

And let’s write it while we still got time

So if you’ve got a light, hold it high for me

I need it bad tonight, hold it high for me

‘Cuz I’m face to face, hold it high for me

In a lonesome place, hold it high for me

With all the hurt that I’ve done, hold it highfor me

That can’t be undone, hold it high for me

Light and guide me through, hold it high for me

I’ll do the same for you, hold it high for me

I’ll hold it high for you, ‘cuz I know you’ve got

I’ll hold it high for you, your own valley towalk

I’ll hold it high for you, though it’s dark asdeath

I’ll hold it high for you, and then gets darkeryet

I’ll hold it high for you, though your path seemsblocked

I’ll hold it high for you, through the thievesand the rocks

I’ll hold it high for you, keep you safe fromharm

I’ll hold it high for you, until you’re back inmy arms

To Delete or Not to Delete

2012-01-18T22:37:00.000-05:00

I was looking for a contact in my iPhone today and whilescrolling through I noticed that I have an unsettling amount of old phonenumbers. Not “old” as in I need toupdate them to current numbers. But“old” as in numbers that no longer exist because people no longer exist.

I find it sad that I have so many people in my address bookthat have passed away. Just doing aquick scroll, I can see at least 10 – and that’s with making little to noeffort in a search.

My question to the universe…

When is it appropriate to delete people from your addressbook after their death? The thing is, Ijust can’t bring myself to do it. It’snot like I’m going to email or call them, duh. But it seems to me that the actual process of pushing the “delete”button makes it so incredibly final. Andno, it’s not like I think they’re coming back. I’m not delusional. I guess Ijust don’t want to NOT see their names anymore.

Maybe I need to make room for the living in my address book? Maybe I need to let go?

Maybe it’s more than just my address book that needs alittle housekeeping?

Well, that's not easy at all

2012-01-17T19:48:00.000-05:00

While sitting in the hospital waiting room today, I wastexting my amazing wonderful friend telling her how crabby I was. Being crabby for me is a bit out ofcharacter. At least, being crabby forthis length of time is out of character for me. Thing is, I’m a silver lining kind of girl. Glass half full. “This too shall pass” as my momma used tosay.

And yet, I can’t seem to get past a mountain of things atthis very moment. The following is partof the text conversation:

Her: How long willthe surgery take?

Me: An hour Ithink. It’s just interesting sittinghere by myself. Lots of time to think.

Her: Whatcha thinkingabout?

Me: Just lots ofstuff going on. Parent crap. Kid crap. Lots of people are frustrating me right now. But maybe I’m the idiot cuz I’m the commondenominator.

Her: It’s verypossible. Surely you are contributing tothe problem in some way. Give me thelist baby! J

Me: {list of names}. The list of people that annoy me is biggerthan the list of people that don’t. Andthat’s just sad. Plus my house is afucking pit and everytime I intend on cleaning I just go to bed. Fairly fucked up I’d say.

Her: Fairly normal I’dsay. Me and you have the sameproblem. I know I’m a huge part of myproblem so I gotta assume you are a huge part of yours. J

Me: I’m starting tosee the light. I just don’t seem to havethe inclination to do anything about it.

Her: Seeing is thefirst step.

Me: Yeah. Now I need a nap.

Her: Napping is notstep two.

Me: Duly noted.

Her: Let me know whenyou’re ready for step two.

A few hours later…

Her: How’s your mom?

Me: OK. She’s in a room complaining. What’s step two?

Her: Step two isdeciding, now that you recognize you have a problem, whether or not you want todo anything about it. Or if you justwant to accept things as they are.

Me: No. I can’t just accept it. I’m pretty crabby these days.

Her: Me too. Step three is to decide what you want. Cause you can’t figure out how to get to aplace if you don’t know what that place is gonna be. So, you work on that part and then we’llfigure out the how together.

Me: Well, that’s noteasy at all.

And there you have it. DUH!!! Not sure why I didn’trealize the "real" problem sooner.

I, in fact, have no frickin’ idea what I want out of life atthis moment. At one point, fairlyrecently (as in over the past few years) I did. Now I don’t. What the hellhappened? Was it cancer? My dad’s death? Taking care of my mother? My series of messed up relationships? Watching my plan to move to Montana after myyoungest graduates disappear like Brigadoon? My extremely wonderful yet unfulfilling job? Who the hell knows.

I do know that I’ve got to get it figured out post-haste. Crabby me is just unattractive andirritating. And if I'm unattractive and irritating to myself, the rest of the world must be at the end of their ropes dealing with me.

The "I Sit Alone" Club

2012-01-17T12:13:00.000-05:00

So I'm in the waiting room at Beaumont and I get this brilliant idea to type a whole blog post on my iPhone. We shall see how this works.

As I look around this giant ass room, I can't help but notice the people that are sitting here alone. For the most part, people are congregated in bunches of 2, 3, and the group next to me of 6. And here I am, part of the "I sit alone" club.

Now, I'm not actually complaining about sitting here alone. I'm here by myself for several reasons. Let's dissect shall we?

1. No one seems to think sitting alone at a hospital is a big deal. And, although I admit that when "I" am the patient it doesn't bother me to be alone, when I'm just waiting here, apparently I have other feelings on the matter.

2. The people that would potentially offer to hang out with me are not necessarily the people that would be best for my mental well-being at this time. Additionally, it's not a big enough deal for me to reach out and try and drag those that I would like to sit next to for several hours away from their own busy lives. Yes, most would come. But then I'd feel like a big giant wussie about it.

3. Some of the people that I would want here unfortunately would likely not come as I am no longer a priority. This is ok for the most part and often how it should be. I understand that things change. It still makes me sad though.

4. Often people in my life come with strings. A "stringer" as I like to call them. And no, it is not intended to be derogatory, simply an easier way to explain. (Side note: Strings and insta-cling often come hand in hand.) True, the strings aren't always intentionally dangled and stringers generally don't know what they're doing until it's too late. But I've found that some people are either off or on. There is no middle. And there is no natural state of working up to the permanent "on" position. Having a stringer spend time with me in a hospital setting flips the switch to the immediate "on" position. Lesson learned.

And so here I sit. Waiting for the blue restaurant beeper to go off so I can go see my mother in post-op and be the attentive daughter to someone who I vaguely remember being around for the majority of my childhood.

But...Everyone should have someone in the waiting room. Even if it's just one someone.

Just be.

2012-01-14T21:53:00.000-05:00

And so, where do I go from here? Well, I’ve got SO much I want to blog. No really. A LOT. But part of me is hesitant because of the onslaught of questions/comments/etc. that are sure to come if I start up again.

And no, this does NOT apply to my blogging friends. SB, Marcia, Syd, Annie, Alex, etc. You have kept me going. You make me want to come back. I love you in all the bloggy ways that I can.

This does, however, apply to the friends/family/acquaintances/others that I talk to regularly and semi-regularly that know where my blog is. And true, some of those people aren't an issue. But unfortunately, I didn’t realize how much certain people want to read into things, to interpret, to make EVERYTHING about them. What the hell was I thinking when I showed it to them? Open mouth, insert right leg. Idiot indeed. So much so that I’ve considered starting a whole new blog and sending out links to my blogging friends ONLY. Who knows…maybe I still will. And done even get me started on Facebook. But that's a story/rant for another day. In the meantime…

The WHOLE STINKIN’ POINT of starting this blog was to get things out of my head so I can move on. However, it’s turned into whenever I blog something, I get berated with “are you talking about me?”, “why didn’t you tell me?”, “You are not the person I thought you were”, “it’s just a phase, just keep it to yourself”, blah blah blah. And if I DON’T blog, guess what I get? A great big “Why didn’t you blog?”, “it’s never good when your blog goes quiet”, “is there something wrong?”.

The thing is, life is frickin’ complicated. And yes, I understand it is for everyone – not just me. So what’s the blogging difference between “everyone” and “me”? I have no damn idea. What I do know is that I’m just trying to put things into focus and figure it all out – by blogging.

So, at risk of being rude, give me a damn break people. No, I may not write something profound. No, I may not comment daily on world happenings. No, I may not always cheer you up. No, I may not be able to personally tell you EVERYTHING before I have the time to blog. But the whole point is to just BE. To talk, to get it all out, to make sense of it all. To just BE me. I miss being able to be me – the uncensored version.

And ya know, I have a friend who almost daily tells me that my life should be a reality show (memoir, novel, you get the idea). Hmmm. If I actually blog some of the absurdness that happens on a regular basis (whether self-inflicted absurdness or otherwise)…well, who knows where I could end up.

Just Breathe...

2012-01-14T21:22:00.004-05:00

As written on December 21, 2011...

At risk of being a complaining whining bitch, I’m writing this post. I’ve not written it until now specifically because I didn’t want to be that bitch. I didn’t want to be the one that f’d up people’s holidays. I didn’t want to be the one that couldn’t handle things. I didn’t want to be the one that that didn’t want help, but has accepted it recently and often. And I certainly didn’t want to be the one that, now that I’ve let people help, has figured out that I am completely disgusted with myself and even more overwhelmed with said constant ”helping”.

That’s not to say I don’t appreciate the help, but it’s a “me” thing. I’m fiercely independent and that is never going to change. Letting some people take over certain aspects of my life just makes me feel like a failure. True, I may not be able to do it all. But certain things either need to be done by me or left undone. I know…I’m a pain in the ass bitch. Accept it and move on.

The thing is, my world has pretty much sucked for a while now. Just after I wrote my prior post saying that I was back to blogging, it all fell apart.

My dad went in for a lung biopsy and I ended up taking him back to the ER that night with shortness of breath. He was admitted and things went downhill from there. Lung cancer was confirmed, and after a week and a half, he was moved into ICU. Cancer wasn’t his only issue. He had lots of heart problems, a stroke a few years ago, tons of complications from smoking (which he still did, as does my mother) and diabetes. Three days after moving to ICU, he passed away on December 3^rd.

The emotions that are mixed up with all of this are completely overwhelming. On top of my father’s death, my son turned 9 on December 16^th, my oldest and my grandson are moving out in a few weeks (to my ex’s house), and just like everyone else - the holidays. And to top it off???? My mother moved in with me just after my dad was admitted to the hospital. That means she’s been living on my couch for over a month, complaining about my cats and dogs, hobbling around with her walker, unable to get up the stairs to a full bathroom and only taking showers when I drive her back to the house she shared with my dad or to my friend’s. The mother that I don’t get along with. The mother that I never had any “real” relationship with. And now I’ve got to basically take care of her – figure out her finances, find her somewhere to live, coordinate her next hip surgery in January, and let her smoke in my garage. I’m doing the best I can, honestly. But I can feel my patience waning…especially when it comes to the smoking. And yes, I DO have friends that smoke and it doesn’t bother me as much as it does with her. And yes, I DO realize that she just lost her husband. And yes I DO feel shitty for thinking all of this.

But I also feel that if she made more of an effort that planning the funeral, dealing with her money (or lack thereof), taking her to all her appointments, missing work, and having her basically take over the first floor of my house wouldn’t be an issue. I’m still doing all these things and am NOT saying that I shouldn’t have to, but I’m bitter and frustrated about it because she expects me to, no matter how much it screws up my life and that of my kids. And because her and my sister don’t get along, my sister doesn’t offer to help and my mother doesn’t want her to anyways. Ugh…

And so, I’m working a full week, trying to get things together for Solstice and Christmas, planning a late birthday party for my son, trying to get my mother approved to move into an apartment, surrendering houses and cars, finalizing other bills and failing to do tons of other things that I remember in the middle of the night and then forget by morning. And then there’s the constant relationship/non-relationship issues that seem to follow me – rolled right into the offers of “help”.

I repeat…Ugh.

I am seriously looking forward to spring.

Starting over...

2011-11-26T20:10:00.000-05:00

Well, it's been a while since I've blogged. A long while. There are many reasons, but I need to get back to writing. So, to get my arse into gear, I'm going to give the one, two, quick update with promises of more in the near future. (soon as I figure out where I'm going to go with all this) And many thanks to my blogging friends for checking on me. I am alive and well. And I'm back because of you. And also because I just got a new macbook, so I can write from the comfort of my bed again...ahhhhh...the good life.

My tests have all come back fine and at this point I'm still cancer free. WOOT! I still go to cancer support meetings and am still involved with the charity side of Gilda's Club. Many, many of my friends have active cancer and/or are cancer survivors. It's a whole new world.

My father was recently diagnosed (earlier this week) with non-small cell lung cancer and has been in the hospital for over a week. We are just waiting on scans and for him to feel well enough to get out. More details later, but I will say having Thanksgiving at the hospital was interesting.

My mother is currently staying on my couch while my father is in the hospital For those of you that may know me and/or her, this is NOT an easy thing to deal with.

Dating is stressful. Work is stressful. Family is stressful. Blogging has been stressful - but I'm changing all that. Prepare thyself.

Most recent good news: my oldest and my grandson are moving out between Christmas and New Years. It's been a long time coming. Hopefully it's not a mistake - sigh - so complicated. Hopefully, my mother will be gone by then too. I would REALLY REALLY like a bit of peace and quiet.

So, as I said, more details later. Just looking for the proper angle...

Many hugs for you. Stay tuned.

Appointment

2011-07-06T09:07:00.000-04:00

Got the call yesterday. Ultrasound scheduled for Friday morning. Bleh. I was told that I would get my results before I leave...so that's good.

On a more perky note, I was able to not only sneeze but blow my nose this morning without crying. Woohoo!

Mammogram Recap

2011-06-30T13:46:00.000-04:00

Couldn’t sleep last night. Woke up at 4am and realized that I didn’t have my doctor’s orders for my mammogram. (It had been 2 months since I received the orders, so I just wasn’t sure where I put them.) Without the orders, I reschedule. Crap. In a panic, I got up and started to search. And search. And search.

Eventually, I found my orders in a pile of unopened mail in what I call my “brown room” (aka the room that’s painted brown that holds my office stuff – very unkempt, very cluttered, very messy). Whew.

I arrived at Beaumont and parked in the wrong spot. I’m SO used to going to Rose Cancer Center that I seemed to block out that the Imaging Center was on the 2nd floor at the end. So, after a bit of a brisk walk, I checked in. I was taken back through Door #2 as opposed to Door #1. Interesting… I was then told “today is only a screening.” Uhm…ok.

I got back, filled out my forms and was fairly quickly called. When I got into the room, I was asked the question of all questions: ANY NEW LUMPS? Sigh…always. I pointed out three, and the technician seemed confused. “You’re only here for screening, not diagnostic. If you have something new, you should have gotten a diagnostic appointment.” My response “Mother Hell.”

And so, after 8 stickers were placed on my skin labeling new lumps and previous scars, I was ready. Truthfully, the mammogram wasn’t as awful as I had made it out to be. Yes, it frickin hurt with the rib issue and all. And it especially hurt because my new lumps (close to my chest) are very hard to get to. But all in all, I made it through.

So we finished after who knows how many pictures were taken - I lost track after 15. I was told I could go home. HUH???? THAT’S never happened before. Go home immediately?? Whaaaaa???

Well, you see, being on the screening side means that they don’t look at your scans immediately. It also means that the ultrasound that they are likely going to want on the new areas will have to be scheduled for a later date. Gone are the days of mammogram, ultrasound, biopsy – all within a few hours. Now I have to WAIT for the doctor to read my films to-frickin-morrow! What-ev.

I will say one cool thing happened – I got to check a new box on the form. Because my last surgery was over 2 years ago, I got to fill in an extra little “bubble” and promptly skipped several questions, right to the bottom! WOOHOO! That’s somethin’. Baby steps.

Broken Ribs and Mammograms

2011-06-29T12:11:00.000-04:00

Ever broken a rib? Well I gotta say, this is new for me and it sucks arse.

Was I in a fight? Nope. Was I in a car accident? Nope. Natural disaster of some sort? Nope. So HOW on earth could *I* have broken ribs? EASY: By being a dolt.

You see, my beautiful Barb was giving me her old freezer for my basement. WAHOO! But in order to put said freezer into my basement, I had to clean. And the area in which I wanted to land said freezer was currently being occupied by three litter boxes. (for my 4 cats…don’t judge) And so, I pulled the litter boxes out, cleaned them, and started to sweep up from behind/underneath where they previously were. Eventually, I got to a point of “hey, I need to pick this crap up with something”. Enter the dustpan.

And so I swept the crap up into the dustpan, looked around and realized that I had nowhere to dump it. Enter the garbage can on the OTHER side of the now scattered litter boxes. I gently placed the dustpan on the floor, proceeded to step over the landmine of little boxes, and grabbed the nearly full garbage can. I turned around, stepped over the litter boxes again and somehow tripped while holding the garbage can. My foot landed IN the cat litter (mostly clean), and my side smashed against the laundry tub so hard I’m surprised I didn’t break the thing. Brilliant. Just frickin’ brilliant.

And now, I hurt. No really. I goddam HURT. And I have a pretty high tolerance for pain. But I gotta say, broken ribs suck. No, I didn’t go to the doctor as I was told by the clinic when I called that they wouldn’t do anything unless I punctured a lung. Because I wasn’t coughing at all, and could for the most part breathe, that was unlikely. How do I know they’re broken? Well, I’m going to say the brand new indentation on my right side is a pretty tell-tale sign.

The worst part so far? Driving. Frankly, it didn’t even occur to me that this may be an issue. But the little bumps and turns that one doesn’t even notice on a regular basis are now moments of excruciating pain. Ever driven around Detroit? You would think the potholes would be fixed by now. Nope. Oh yeah, and sneezing sucks too. But driving definitely takes the proverbial cake.

And what am I REALLY not looking forward to now you may ask? Thursday’s mammogram. I’ve never been one to complain about a mammogram before (MRI, maybe; mammogram, easy peasy lemon squeezy) but now the thought of being smashed into that little tray while I’m told to hold my breath over and over is truly terrifying.

Reschedule? Never. They say it’s going to take 6-8 weeks to feel better. Ugh. If I even think of waiting that long for a check-up I will likely go crazy. Stupid Dumb Cancer. I’m going to brave it, and hopefully pull one of the more “gentle” radiologists. Fingers crossed. Details to follow…

The Crazy Sexy Lifestyle

2011-04-20T16:16:00.000-04:00

I’m now about 6 days into the Crazy Sexy Lifestyle "developed" by Kris Carr – and following her around like a virtual stalker. Well, not really stalking per se. But absorbing everything her and her friends have written and video blogged that I can get my hands on and brain around. Yes, I’ve hit rock bottom on certain days and have eaten whatever was put in front of me. It’s not exactly easy for me to drink green juice at birthday parties. However, when I’m not “birthday-partying”, I seem to be doing pretty well adjusting. A few things in no particular order that I probably should have known, that they really didn’t occur to me until after the fact:

• Green tea is yummy as heck. But green tea from an Asian restaurant or made by someone from that region is Oh My Golly Yummy. I can’t figure out why I can’t accomplish this OMG Yummy tea on my own. Still working on it.

• When you eat green, you poop green. Sorry people, you do.

• Somehow making tofu that does NOT taste like ass isn’t easy. However, I was recently given a 2 day process by my brother to remove the water using a dupaload of paper towels, along with a yummy recipe (as pictured above). I shall try. Again…

• IMHO Wheatgrass juice should be done in shots. DO NOT mix with other juices and/or try and put it into your green juice or green smoothie. It just makes them taste nasty. When doing wheatgrass juice shots, make sure you’re ready. REALLY ready. Dumping wheatgrass juice on your clothes, on your dogs head, or all over the floor is not good.

• While attempting to make a smoothie, remember that apples do not do well in a blender. They just don’t smush up right. Keep the apples for juicing.

• Avocados are GREAT in a blender for a smoothie – just make sure you add additional liquid cuz they’re super thick. I really like avocados.

• Quinoa pasta is yummy.

• I can in fact drink 70 oz of water a day. Who knew?

• Cucumbers have a LOT of juice in them. I’ve never had this many cucumbers in my life. I believe the current count of cucumbers that I’ve eaten/juiced over the past 6 days is 19. And we’re not talking baby cucumbers either.

• Ginger root isn’t a scary as you may think. An inch or so added to green juice is actually quite yummy.

• Wasabi Peas & Soy Nuts. Eat them.

• Dumping dairy is hard. At least for some things. I’m still eating greek yogurt daily. Sigh…

• Kale and collard greens don’t taste bad if you mix them with cucumbers and pears. Juicing of course. Gnawing on a stalk of kale doesn’t sound appetizing at all.

• I don’t hate celery as much as I thought I did.

• My house smells different with all the vegetables and fruit lying around. Different = Good.

• My refrigerator isn’t big enough. And I don’t have enough counter space.

• If you get a blender that’s easy to use, and keep strawberries and bananas in the house, a 21 year old will actually make a smoothie themselves. More than once.

• Clean the juicer/blender immediately. If you wait until morning, you will be sorry.

• Sleep really IS important. And it’s been easier to get these days. Interesting.

I realize 6 days isn’t a long time. But this was a HUGE change for me. I was previously nutritionally ignorant. I’m getting better, but there’s a lot to take in. So, even though my kids think I’ve gone off the deep end, I’m trudging along. When I get into a routine, I think I’ll be just fine. Right now, I’ve actually been able to get up 45 minutes earlier each day to make my juice and pack my lunch. I don’t think I’ve EVER been able to do that.

This is good.

I'm Going Vegan

2011-04-18T14:48:00.000-04:00

OK. Maybe not “Vegan”, but definitely “Organic”, and I’d even go as far as mostly “Raw”. Yes, yes. I know. UGH. But let me tell you why.

I suppose this concept all started with the anticipated arrival of April 16. Shannon passed away last year on that day and, well, I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately. She taught me so much in such a short period of time - some of which I’ve been able to absorb and follow through on – some of which, like eating healthier, I’ve pretty much ignored. Why? Cuz it’s easy, my friend. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. And without Shannon here to remind me, it’s easier to just continue status quo. But easy isn’t always the best route – especially in my case.

So, the “anniversary” of Shannon’s death, along with my son turning 21 on my 2 year “end of treatment” cancerversary, and the fact that I’M turning 40 in May…well there’s no time like the present, right? Right. So, what’s the official scoop? Why, oh why would I put myself through something like this?

Answer: To Live.

The thing is, everyone I know that has been re-diagnosed after being “cured” from cancer or placed into remission has had the unfortunate experience of round 2 being more aggressive and faster moving. Often, after being originally diagnosed as Stage I or II, it comes back as Stage III or IV. Not a time to throw in the proverbial towel (there NEVER is), but still not good. Granted, not everyone gets re-diagnosed, and sometimes “cured” and/or remission sticks. Regardless, do I really want to roll those dice?

And so, in an effort to either (a) keep cancer from coming back at all, or (b) give myself the best shot possible at fighting should it come back, I’ve changed my diet/lifestyle significantly. And this entails:

• Taking my medicine and vitamins EVERY day. (Believe it or not, since the beginning of the year I’ve already been doing this. Go me!)

• NO MORE processed food. Dammit. And to go along with that, no more crap drive-thrus.

• Eating significantly less meat, fish and dairy. Maybe a few times a week max. THAT my friends is not easy. Dammit. I will have you know I LOVE my greek yogurt. However, with some suggestions from my brother, hopefully I can get rid of the ooky dairy. I repeat. Dammit.

• No soda pop. And unfortunately this includes Faygo.

• Only VERY occasional alcohol. (OK, I’m told to shoot for “none”, but I’m Polish/Irish - ya gotta give me something people.) It has been suggested that I lean towards wine if I’m going to partake. I think I can do that. And it’s not like I have a drink more than a few times a month anyways. YEAH.

• No more sugary sweets. No more devouring half a pan of brownies, eating a third of the cookie dough while I mix it, or finishing the last of the frosting when I make a holiday cake.

• More veggies. More veggies. More veggies. Minimal fruit. And checking my PH. (as in peeing on litmus paper – ewwww)

• Daily wheatgrass juice. What does it taste like you may ask? It tastes like grass. As in fresh cut, green, growing in your lawn grass. But healthier of course. Yum…

• Juicing twice a day at a minimum.

• Adding green powder superfood (a mix of all kinds of green goodness) into my smoothie once a day.

• Shaking my dupa. Well, not exactly “shaking”, but moving and not being such a damn slug. Yoga anyone? I need to find a good class that isn’t going to make me wanna hurl my wheatgrass all over the yoga mat. I’m seriously out of yoga shape.

• Water water and more water.

• 8 hours of sleep each day. (You would THINK this would be easy. It’s just not.)

• Dry brushing. (Honestly, I’ve yet to start this – but from what I’ve read dry brushing the “crap” off your skin does wonders for your health – not to mention the purdy benefits.)

• Cleaning and organizing and de-cluttering my world. Yes, I say this often. You would think I’d learn to keep it as such for more than a few weeks. Bleh…that, too, is very hard for me.

• Other icky stuff (aka more details that you don’t wanna know). Think bathroom time.

AND

• Therapy. And thinking. And visualization. And goals. And WAY less stress as a general rule.

What the hell do I eat then? Examples please!! This is what I’ve had so far today:
• Two 16 oz glasses of fresh juice made from: cucumbers, kale, spinach, broccoli, pears and ginger (Un-huh! I dug out my juicer last week!)
• Romaine salad with organic ginger & sesame dressing, tomatoes and organic soy nuts
• 20 oz of water
• 2 cups green tea w/stevia

My plan for tonight?
• A green smoothie (avocado, cucumber, collard greens, green apple, agave, green powder)
• Quinoa pasta w/organic veggie sauce (I think I will stop and pick up some mushrooms on my way home)

Trust me, it’s not as awful as it looks. But I do understand coming from a burger/fries/wings/turkey/chicken/sugary sweets point of view – it’s definitely a change.

Whew. Yes, this takes a lot of planning. But honestly, now that I’ve got the food in the house it’s fairly easy to do. Shannon did this stuff (and even to a higher degree) everyday. My brother’s diet (the one in Colorado) is very much like this. My other brother’s diet (the one in Ohio), is close – but adds in “responsible” meats. (i.e. organic/Amish) I have friends that eat a mostly raw diet. And I’ve been reading books upon books and watching documentaries about it (Kris Carr is my uber-fav) – all THOSE people can do it. So can I.

My goal to start is 60/40 (60% raw, 40% organic). Hopefully, over the next few months I can graduate to 80/20.

And don’t worry. I won’t try and convert anyone (other than asking you to listen to me blog-babble). This is just my thing. Promise.

And when I’m 87 and healthy, I will look back on April 2011 and know why.

A Title? I SO don't have the energy for a "A Title"...

2011-03-14T13:24:00.000-04:00

I hate to complain. In fact, I hate to write blogs that aren’t all happy go lucky. But, inevitably, either I write them or I stay silent.

Unfortunately, silent for me doesn’t always lead to good things. I tend to keep too much inside as it is, and blogging helps me to deal. I know, I should just talk to a therapist. Well, I do. Still…blogging, writing, this whole genre seems to help.

And so, here we go.

The past few weeks have been very tiring. So much has happened that I don’t even know where to begin. I guess I will start with Emma.

I had made plans to take my youngest to Kalahari February 27th thru March 1st (you know, the water slide world in Ohio?) Well, I had made these plans months ago, and since Emma was doing better, I went. My oldest, Kyle took care of her and I called to check on them Sunday night – all was well.

We spent Sunday, Monday and Tuesday at the waterpark and had a great time. Kyle had texted me a few times to see when I was coming home and I let him know. I drove home on Tuesday, and my sister followed me. When I pulled into my garage, she came up to me and told me that Emma wasn’t going to be inside because she had died on Monday. Needless to say, I was a basket case.

I understand that they didn’t want to tell me because it would have ruined the weekend with Alex. I get that. But I have such guilt over not being there. Kyle called some of my friends and they took care of everything – which was good. But still – even though I realize that I likely couldn’t have done anything, that doesn’t help much. After I settled down, I called the vet to pay for the cremation and I picked up her ashes last week. Alex has also had a hard time dealing with everything - being in shock after having such a great weekend. He still has trouble getting to sleep at night because "Emma isn’t protecting us anymore". It has all seriously sucked.

But wait there’s more. And so, the night we returned from the waterpark I got a text from GM (Gilda’s Michelle). She had asked if I had seen the news on Monday and I let her know I had been out of town. She called me and told me what had happened. For those of you that live in the area, you may have heard of Shanda Yenglin. If not, google her. Basically, she tried to kill herself AND her 4 kids (by putting sleeping pills in their milkshakes and then putting them into a running car in their garage), but ended up only killing herself that weekend. Two of the kids were released from the hospital fairly quickly, two had to remain for a few days but were expected to be fine, near as I’ve heard. The only remotely redeeming thing she did was pour an entire bag of cat food on the floor so that her cat wouldn’t starve. Well…maybe “redeeming” is not the appropriate word. Anyways, why does this affect me? Because I knew Shanda.

Shanda was in the Rack Pack at Gilda’s and was a young breast cancer survivor. She hadn’t been to a meeting in a several months, but used to come regularly. At the last meeting she attended, she had been complaining about everything on the planet and was basically using the group as personal therapy. Both myself and GM had told her that the group was not the right arena for her issues, and that she needed to see a therapist. We hadn’t heard from her after that. And now…suicide.

Again…I realize I couldn’t have done anything. I realize it’s not my fault. I realize I wasn’t even close with her. But I still feel like maybe, just MAYBE, if we had listened to her rant a bit more – well, you never know. At the same time, I feel that it takes a certain kind of person to decide they want to kill their kids – a person we didn’t even know. We all knew Shanda had issues (who doesn't?), but we would have never thought something like this could happen. I’m SO glad the kids are going to be ok. Well, as "ok" as you can be after something like this.

And that brings me to last week…and a call I got from my dad as I was going into the movies to see Rango on Monday. My Aunt Dorothy had passed away. Ugh. The funeral was last Thursday with pictures of everyone in my family filling the movie screen at the front of the room - my parents, grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles…everyone. Needless to say, she was a very “key” person in our family.

And last Tuesday night, while I was sitting on my couch cuddling one of my cats, I noticed that his front left paw and leg were about TWICE the size as the rest. Literally, over 2 inches across. With all the time I’ve taken off, I couldn’t stay home with him the next day. In the evening I took him to my vet (where I have been frequenting over the past few weeks) and of course, everyone knew exactly who I was. "Emma's Mom." They still don’t know what’s wrong with him but put him on antibiotics and steroids to see if we can get the swelling to go down. It has gotten a bit better, but he needs to keep on the medicine – which he DOES NOT appreciate. Ever give pills to a cat? Ever have to use a pill gun? No really...it’s fun.

But today, Monday March 14th is a new day. And at least right now, the sun is shining. Here's hoping it stays that way for a little while.

Roller Coaster

2011-02-21T14:37:00.000-05:00

So…what’s been going on you may ask? Crap I tell you. Crap. (And by the way, the bunnies like the picture above are available on etsy.com. I have purchased several. Just search…)

Anyways, I’m trying to see the bright side…so here goes…

My doggie was sick last week. She was feeling punky on Saturday night (the 12th) and by Sunday morning she could barely walk. She made it outside and back, and immediately collapsed just inside the door. Obviously, I started crying hysterically. I called several people to help me – Miah, my Aunt Kathey and Barb (my rock - who I adore more than just about anything) showed up. Eventually, we got her into the car. Why do I need so many people to take my dog to the vet? Well, other than the fact that I was a basket case, this was my dog Emma – the 8 year old Great Dane – who weighs more than 150lbs. Needless to say, Miah pretty much carried her.

We got to the emergency vet and eventually they checked her out. They came back and told me that she had an arrhythmia and that they needed to keep her overnight – for about $1000. Then I would need to take her to a cardiologist the next day – for about $1500-2000. Uh – I love my animals, but that wasn’t doable for me and they began to get a bit pissy. They tried to scare me into it – telling me that she would arrest during the night, and there would be no one to perform CPR, etc. They even wanted me to initial a DNR for her while she was there! Wow… Still, I took her home. By the time we left, she was able to walk to the car on her own. Excellent.

I took her to my vet the next day. Miah was with me just in case she collapsed, but she made it in and out on her own. Woo-Hoo! My vet agreed that she needed to see a cardiologist – I got a little weepy again and said I couldn’t afford another $2000. Long story short, the emergency vet was wrong about the money. I took her to a cardiologist (that my vet recommended) on Wednesday night – for a total of $340.

When I took her to the cardiologist, she was doing just fine. In fact, they thought there was nothing wrong with her. I gave them a copy of the EKG and told them what the emergency vet told me. They said the EKG was absolutely normal and that the emergency vet read it wrong. WTF!! But still, she had collapsed. They did an ultrasound of her heart and found “left ventricular contractility”. Basically, the left side of her heart doesn’t pump hardly at all. Suckola. They put her on 3 meds and 1 mineral supplement. I was excited and hopeful.

The next day she collapsed again (we’re now on Thursday afternoon for those of you that are keeping track). I came home from work at lunch and she could barely move. Miah and my son scooped her up and we got her in the car. I took her to my vet and Miah carried her in. She was a mess. My vet checked her out, called the cardiologist and they decided they couldn’t do anything. They stopped 2 of the three meds temporarily. We carried her home. By the time the next morning rolled around she was up and moving again…and knock on wood...has been pretty much back to her normal self since last Friday. In fact, she keeps trying to run and play and doesn’t like it when I make her calm down.

Needless to say, just taking care of Emma this past week has been a big roller coaster ride for me. Many thanks to everyone who helped me out. Especially Miah. It’s good to know non-wimpy people.

Back to Therapy

2011-02-11T13:22:00.000-05:00

www.nataliedee.com

"Thus we never actually live, but hope to live, and since we are always planning how to be happy, it is inevitable that we should never be so."

— Pascal

This quote came into my inbox today and hit a nerve. Tomorrow I return to therapy. As in “shrink” therapy – not physical therapy. My beloved Michelle called me after I left a couple messages and asked how I was doing. I said fine and she laughed. She then said “people don’t call me out of the blue and ask to re-start therapy when they’re fine.” I laughed and replied, “well, maybe not fine.”

And yes, that got me to thinking about how I say “I’m Fine” when I’m really not. I honestly don’t consciously try to deceive – it’s just that “I’m Fine” to me = “I’m fine enough. You don’t need to worry about it. Go on with your day.” I don’t like dumping on people – unless of course it’s here on my blog or I’m paying someone to listen to my BS. Enter therapist. Sorry…as much as I’d like to, I just can’t pay my blog readers…

And so…therapy tomorrow. Why now?? Basically, I never should have stopped. I was doing quite well when I was seeing Michelle regularly. Was I doing TRULY fine? No. But I had made progress in the areas that I completely suck at. Specifically, saying “No”, making decisions, “seizing the day” and (as Michelle puts it) “speaking my truth”. You know how some people just say whatever pops into their heads without regard for anyone’s feelings?? Well, I’m the complete polar opposite. *I* keep my mouth shut for fear of hurting or upsetting people. Do I want to be like those that just spew thoughts willy-nilly?? No. But I need to find a happy medium. I need to stop cleaning my damn house and “speak my truth”.

www.nataliedee.com

Everyone has crap in their lives to deal with. And everyone has a past. I’ve decided over the years that my life isn’t too bad. Lots of people have horrible childhoods, miserable tragedy wrought adulthoods, etc. Me? I’ve had it pretty good. But at the same time I have had “crap” that has affected me in a not so wonderful way. And it’s THAT crap that I need to not only accept as being the crap that it is (which unfortunately conflicts with my positive attitude), but I have to actually deal with it. I need to start doing what I KNOW I have to do. I need to stop planning to be happy, and actually BE happy. And if I have to pay someone to force me to do these things – so be it.

Unless you’ve actually been in therapy with a GOOD therapist (not one who throws out the “and how does that make you feel” BS), it’s hard to truly understand the value. Maybe “and how does that make you feel” works for some, but I’m thinking the majority of people (myself included) need a bit more of a push. I’ve got people milling about in my life that I’m quite sure would LIKE to listen to all my woes, but they’ve also got an opinion about those woes. The thing is…I don’t always want the opinions – especially when those opinions are obviously biased. I need an outsider – someone who has absolutely NO stake in the decisions I need to make. I need Michelle Klein to jump out of her chair and say “That’s bullshit!” or “Who the fuck thinks that’s a good idea?” or “Dammit just STOP!”.

I’m quite sure I’ll be hearing all those phrases, plus more, tomorrow. Can’t wait! Too bad my house won’t get cleaned anymore.

Today's Overly Perky Inspirational Quote

2011-02-09T15:57:00.000-05:00

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor, catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”
Mark Twain

This is me...holding tightly to the "If You Say It, It Shall Be" concept...
Thanks Michelle!!

Onco-Funk

2011-02-08T15:57:00.000-05:00

I had my oncologist appointment on Monday – got my Zometa and had a little chit-chat with Dr. Jeff and CCSN Heather ("Cancer Clinical Studies Nurse Heather", for those of you that don’t recall and/or are new to my Soapbox.) A couple things came up, much to my dismay…

1. I need to get a Chest CT and an echocardiogram. Why? I’m still not quite sure. He said something about how the chemo I was on could have done a number on my heart. The high dose of Adriamycin if I remember correctly. Hmmmm…shouldn’t we have checked that out before? I had a Chest CT if you will remember back in July 2009. That looked ok. So…what’s changed? Why now? Hmmm….

2. I forgot (cuz I’m a dolt) that I no longer needed to get my blood drawn several days prior to my appointment for the lab to have enough time to process it all. (I need periodic blood tests not only for the clinical trial, but to make sure everything else is hunky dorey.) They can apparently draw the blood right in the office and process it immediately nowadays. My how times change.

Why does this matter? Because I got my blood drawn on Friday (like I’ve always done) and no one knew. They sent the results over to Dr. Jeff’s office and CCSN Heather but no one thought to look for them because I wasn’t expected to have blood drawn until Monday. SO…although they pulled up my results and gave me the OK for Zometa (creatine levels are good), they didn’t analyze the rest of the results (the regular periodic blood check part). NO ONE LOOKED!!! CCSN Heather mentioned in passing that my platelet count has been decreasing over the past few draws – now at 148 with a normal level between 150 and 400. She said she wasn’t too concerned because I was just below normal. Uhm…ok…but WHY is it low? Why is it on a downhill slide? Doesn’t anyone care?? Even if it’s "just below", it’s still WAY below the 400 mark – seems like a healthy 39 year old woman should plop right down in the middle, but what do I know. And I’m 2 years out of chemo – so that’s not stinkin’ it. WHY THE MOTHER HELL IS IT LOW??? Maybe I’m over-reacting. But you know, when this kind of stuff is messed up I start thinking the worst. Dammit.

And so, with my latest appointment I’ve realized that there is a certain state of mind that I enter a few days before I see my oncologist and that I remain in that state of mind for several days after – I shall call it “Onco-Funk”. You see, I can go about my days, weeks, even months thinking that I’m cured. I can almost pretend that all this never really happened, because other than a few aches and pains here and there, and multiple scars, it seems SO damn long ago. It’s almost like it was all a dream. Did I really go through everything? Chemo every 3 weeks, radiation 5 days a week for 6 weeks? Naked naked naked? Countless tests?? Did it really all happen?

And then I walk into the Rose Cancer Center and it all comes flooding back. From the smell of the 2nd floor, to checking in, to vitals, to the exam room, to the chemo room – it’s all front and center once again in my brain. I remember the f’in interns. I remember 3-5 hours in the chemo chair. I remember leaving feeling like I was having some sort of out-of-body-experience – just going through the motions. I remember the steroids and the yeast infections. I remember the nausea – and taking Emend and Compazine in an attempt to combat it all. I remember the horrible sores in my mouth. And most of all, I remember the smell of heparin…

Wow. It’s all there…and I’M there…like I never left.

So, when does it all end? When do you stop waiting for the other shoe to drop? When do you forget the smell of heparin?

I do believe that these are all good questions - to which I have no answers.

Leaving the Boring Behind

2011-02-08T15:47:00.000-05:00

So…I’ve been looking back and frankly my blog has gotten boring. Yup. BORING. And I don’t post as much as I used to – golly, that would make you think that nothing is going on in my life, eh?? au contraire … (as if I know French…bwahahaha!)

And so, with this post I am re-dedicating myself to this whole blogging thing. I’m going to get back to posting on a regular basis. Will it always be of substance? Sorry. No guarantees. I will do my best, however to leave the incessant whining out in the cold. Yes…I will talk about cancer. Yes…I will talk about my relationships. Yes…I will talk about my family. (I’m sure they all love that.) But I will try to tie it all together.

How’s that for an idea??? Eh? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller???

SUPER Early Cancer Detection - it GLOWS!!

2011-01-31T14:31:00.000-05:00

OK. I think this is about the coolest thing I’ve seen. Pretty.much.ever.

Short story, this spiffy company called XYTOS out of Indiana has created a light scanning procedure called Photodynamic Diagnostic (PDD) for early detection of cancer cells. Like WAY early. From their website:

Photodynamic Diagnostic (PDD) is a non-invasive diagnostic technique for detecting surface and near surface tumors. After taking the photosensitizer, the body is scanned with a red laser. Fluorescent radiation from the activated photosensitizer inside the tumors is detected with a camera fitted with a red filter and displayed on a TV screen or computer. Cancer shows up as fluorescent areas of various shapes and sizes.

SEE THE GLOWING WHITE SPOTS! SEE!!!

Basically you ingest this “stuff”, and they scan you with a fancy schmancy light. If cancer cells are present, they literally GLOW. You don’t have to wait for an actual tumor to form. It can detect the smallest of cells. Itty bitty micro ones!! Holy crap people!

I’m seriously excited about this. Why?? Do you even know what this all means?? “Surface and near surface tumors” = breast cancer, melanoma, etc!!

Bottom line: this new procedure can diagnose cancer 3-6 YEARS EARLIER than conventional scanning. You heard me right. It takes 3 years for a mammogram to POSSIBLY detect cancer cells, and potentially an additional 3 MORE years for a mammogram to detect a tumor. You could kill the cancer cells BEFORE they’re able to form an actual tumor!!! Seriously!!

You know, if cancer has a chance to jump from cell to cell for 3-6 years…who knows where it’s going to end up. I’m thinking I’d rather know today if cancer cells are present. Yup. *I* think this sort of scan should be done immediately after treatment, and then periodically for pretty much EVER. Why? Because once you’ve been diagnosed with cancer, even if you’re theoretically cured, you never know when it could possibly return. Being told there’s only a 2-5% chance my cancer can return really doesn’t give me the warm fuzzies. Why? Because I’ve known people that beat those odds – and not in a good way. And honestly, there was a LESS THAN .3% CHANCE I’D GET CANCER IN THE FIRST PLACE (based on screenings, family history, and “good” genes.) Not 3%, three-tenths of a percent!!!! Yet it still happened. Stupid damn cancer.

And to top it all off, they have this thing called XyChloro Photodynamic Therapy (XPDT). You know what THAT does? It’s light therapy that kills the cancer cells. LITERALLY KILLS THEM!! With LIGHT! Check out the before and after treatment pics below. Orange spots = cancer. WOW!!!!

Before Treatment

72 Hours After Treatment

If I had money laying around to invest in this company you can bet your duppa I would.

Go read the article about scanning for more info: http://www.xytos.com/biotech_earliest.htm.

And for the light treatment therapy, read this: http://www.xytos.com/biotech_how.htm.

Trust me, you will be just as excited as I am.

Limbo-Land and Happiness

2011-01-27T11:52:00.000-05:00

There comes a point when you just have ask yourself – what the mother hell am I doing? And by association – what the mother hell is he or she doing and why do I frickin’ care so much?

The thing is, I’m trying to do this “Happiness Project”. Don’t judge. I have my reasons. As the creator of “The Happiness Project” says (yes, it’s a real thing – do a Google search): It’s not that I’m unhappy…I could just be happier. It took me a while to accept that as true. Making the bold statement that you are truly unhappy takes ballz. And though I can be a bit ballzy at times, “unhappy” just doesn’t fit me. However, “I could be happier” does and flows quite nicely from my mind. It’s almost a comforting feeling – knowing that I could control more – that there’s more that I can do to increase my general happiness. Now…do I have the ballz to do it? Aye, there’s the rub.

So, what the heckola is my problem? I don’t think its laziness. I don’t think its lack of motivation. I think it’s more of my unwillingness to give up. Even though I might have something that’s currently not working in my life – I have this need to MAKE it work. I dig in my heels and I fight. I don’t let go easily – even if all signs point to that being the only reasonable action/reaction. Best case scenario, if it’s really not working I take a break for a while and come back to it – but I can’t just forget about it. I don’t give in. I don’t cross it off as a loss. I basically leave things in limbo until they eventually turn out how I would like. Bad idea?? Most people would say so, but it’s all I’ve got.

Unfortunately, limbo-land is pretty much full at this point. Less and less is turning out how I would like and/or planned. Does that mean I’m unhappy? No…it just means that I’m sending more and more things to limbo-land these days with high hopes. I’m saying “maybe” instead of “yes” or “no”. True, I visit on a regular basis – pulling issues and situations and even people out now and again to see if I can bring things back into reality. A “happier” reality. Inevitably, most just end up returning to limbo-land during one of those aforementioned “breaks”. Unfortunately, space is limited, much to my dismay.

The more I think about my Happiness Project and how limbo-land affects me, the more I realize that I need to create “The Void”. I seem to lack the ability to accept certain realities and to move forward. Perhaps instead of constantly returning things to limbo-land, I can move them to “The Void” and call it a day. But should I?

I think my greatest fear (aside from being buried alive) is giving up too soon or giving up on the wrong things. I don’t know how to get past this. I especially have an issue with giving up on people. I truly believe that people are generally “good” and that most issues will get ironed out in time. How do you know when to throw in the proverbial towel? How do you know when to give up on someone? How is “giving up on someone” even remotely appropriate?? Just the thought of it nauseates me. It seems like these people are in my life for SOME reason – and likely that reason isn’t for me to throw them by the wayside. How many times is reasonable to allow someone to move in and out of limbo-land? When do you shut the door? When do you open “The Void”? When do you call it a day? Is it even fair to willy-nilly give free rent with a day pass to limbo-land? Would “The Void” be a more humane alternative? How do you know?

And for the non-people items in limbo-land, how do you make the decision to let it go and move on? I think I need to find the ballz to say no.

But should I? How do you know that “just one more time” isn’t going to equal “A happier reality”?

How do you know?

I am an Outlier

2011-01-06T12:42:00.000-05:00

First, a few quick definitions:

• A value far from most others in a set of data: "Outliers make statistical analyses difficult" (Harvey Motulsky).

• Outliers are atypical (by definition), infrequent observations; data points which do not appear to follow the characteristic distribution of the rest of the data.

• An observation so distant from the central mass of the data that it noticeably influences results.

• An observation that differs from all others, suggesting that a gross error has occurred in sampling, measurement, or analysis.

Second, for those of you that knew me back in Stats Class in college and knew how much I truly DESPISED it…yes, I admit, everything has come full circle.

It is true, I have officially been branded “An Outlier”.

At first, I took offense. How dare you! Yes…YES…HOW THE HELL DARE YOU say that *I* of all people skew results so far off base that my opinion should not be counted. {raised eyebrow, stern look}

HOW.DARE.YOU.INDEED.

But then, I thought better about it. And now, I am proud to be an Outlier.

I bet you’re all thinking - how the hell did something like this even come up? Well, believe it or not, it all started with a beard.

I mentioned my friend’s “Jesus-like state” and there was an inquiry as to how long his beard was going to stick around now that hunting season was over. He said he wasn’t sure, but thought maybe it needed to stay until NEXT hunting season since he still hadn’t “bagged” said deer. I shrugged, and repeated as always, “you know I like the beard”. He laughed and said something like, “all the girls HATE it.” We went back and forth, he told me about how EVERYONE he’s come across has made a comment about how awful it is - and that I’m the only one on the planet who actually thinks it’s attractive. I said I didn’t care… I liked it. His response: “whatever, you’re an Outlier”.

And so, that got me thinking…hmmmm…I actually am. I don’t really follow the crowds. I don’t like a lot of popular music these days. I CERTAINLY don’t lemming along on the religious or political popular trail. And I’m definitely on the uber-liberal side when it comes to social issues. The world caters to those that enjoy what is rated a 3 on a scale of 1 to 5. Me? …I’m actively looking for the 1’s and 5’s. Yup…Outlier.

I never much thought being average was something to strive for. The word “mediocre” makes me cringe and fall physically ill – so much so that I even have trouble typing the goddam thing. (I blame Mr. Kozachik – an old high school teacher whose name I may be spelling incorrectly. Serves him fucking right.) I always thought that the fact that he called the kids in his class "average" was the meanest thing in the whole entire world. Screw him. Seriously. Though I do wonder how many other kids from that class grew up to be Outliers...

Normal is not necessarily a virtue. OUTLIER. “Way to break out of that bell curve!” Go me!! No seriously. This is quite possibly the biggest achievement of my life. I need a plaque. A t-shirt. A button. A gold star on my ass. Ok…maybe I’m taking it a bit too far.

The Yearly Ewwwww

2010-12-31T09:25:00.000-05:00

I had my annual gyno appointment yesterday with my beloved Dr. Long. (and a collective "ewwww...TMI" emanates from the audience) But I promise, I won't go into THOSE details.

My point here is, I truly do love my gyno. And that's kind of hard for a person to say cuz, well, you're supposed to HATE going to these appointments. Don't get me wrong, the concept of what's going on is not exactly enjoyable. But Dr. Long is the kind of doctor that actually gives a crapola about his patients. From the second he walks in the door, he makes you feel like even though he hasn't seen you in a year, he remembers everything about you and is truly there to listen. From asking about my general health, to my cancer history, to making jokes about me being the only person he's known that has had their thyroid removed - TWICE, to delving into the menopause world - it is seriously like talking to a long lost friend. And no, it's not weird. You actually forget what's going on. The nurse is in there the whole time, they laugh and joke as a team. It's truly a good experience.

So...what happened. Well, the basics of course. And then the cancer talk happened - and then the menopause talk. And then he asked how my bone mineral density test came out. Whaaaaaa???? "You haven't had a bone mineral density test?" "Nope. But I'm on Zometa." "Well, that's good, but still you need a baseline and we need to know it's working." "Uh, ok, how do I get one?" "It prints out at the front." (...with a big smile)

He then refilled my prescriptions and I continued to assure him that he was the ONLY doctor that I've ever needed, blah blah blah. He told me to "hang on a minute while I go outside to throw up". We both laughed, and the appointment was over. I got some blood drawn to check my thyroid levels and was on my way.

And then last night I started thinking (as I always do)...bone mineral density test...

Sigh...another damn test. OK, ok. I'm told you "just lay there". But I've been told that before. I guess it's good to know what's going on though. Why didn't Dr. Jeff order one when I started the study? Why didn't he let me have one when I originally asked a year and a half ago? Is this another "Dr. Jeffism" that is just going to piss me off? Should I add this to the list of reasons why I should consider switching oncologists??

And, uhm...I accepted the early menopause thing as being somewhat "positive". But now that I think about it, I didn't really contemplate the potential negative aspects. What if 10 extra years of a menopausal state does a serious number on my bones? Seriously. That never even occurred to me. Yes, I've been taking vitamins and calcium, but not like it was a life or death situation.

Or, maybe I just think too much. Hmmmm....

Early Morning Nickelodeon With My Son...

2010-12-30T23:26:00.000-05:00

I swear I'm not a prude. No really. I'm pretty darn liberal - even when it comes to sheltering children. However, this morning while I was watching television with my son, I truly questioned what the execs at Nickelodeon were thinking.

Between Zoey 101 and Drake & Josh (both older kid's / tween shows), they showed a Ke$ha video. Ok, fine. Ke$ha is popular with the kiddies...but, uh...really? It's not like we were watching at 10pm or anything. It was 8am. And it was STILL NICKELODEON. A CHILDREN'S NETWORK. Come ON people... Even *I* thought this one was a little much.

Fine. Scan Me. But I’m not gonna like it.

2010-12-09T11:48:00.000-05:00

Well, I never thought it would happen. I never thought I would actually NOT want to get a scan. I never thought I would actually think to myself “no, I’d rather just wait, I don’t need that right now, I’m fine”. But in fact…feel that?? Hell has frozen over.

I went to see my beloved Dr. Dekhne a week ago for a regular check-up. Well, kind of a re-check from a few months ago where she felt “something” and said it was “nothing” but wanted to make super extra double-sure in a few more months. A few more months was on December 1^st. And so, December 1^st came, she felt me up (as per the usual), and decided that it was time for my regular 6 month MRI/mammogram rotation. Uhm…ok. As you will all remember, I hate hate HATE breast MRIs. But alas, I let her schedule the breast MRI for last Friday.

So Wednesday rolled around and I got a call from the Beaumont Business Office. Paraphrasing… “We haven’t received your pre-approval from your insurance yet on your MRI, and we have a note here from Blue Cross. It says that a screening MRI is not a covered procedure. Therefore, you’ll be asked to sign a letter of financial responsibility stating that you are responsible for the full cost of the MRI at $4,600”. Well, at that point I got a bit irritated (I’m sure you’re shocked). But, I went into zen mode and decided to wait it out, since I had two more days left. I called my “insurance liaison” at work and asked what to do. I was told that if the pre-approval comes through, I’m set. Great. Done. No big deal.

On Friday morning, I called the hospital and asked if the pre-approval came through, I was told “I have great news, your pre-approval has been received.” (That is an EXACT quote.) Excellent. OFF to the hospital I go. When I got there (about 45 minutes early – go ME!) I went through registration and they handed me the $4,600 letter of financial responsibility. Whaaaaat?!?!? Zen mode = over. I obviously looked confused. I mentioned the pre-approval. The registration clerk said that they had received the pre-approval, but were still told by Blue Cross that even though the pre-approval was given, it was still not a covered expense. WTF???? How the hell can you pre-approve a procedure and still say it’s not covered??? Seriously?!?!?! I told her I wasn’t going to have the procedure done if they were going to make me sign the goddam form. (Ok, maybe I didn’t call it a “goddam” form, but still.) I then spent the next HOUR AND A HALF going back and forth on the phone with Blue Cross, my insurance liaison, and Beaumont trying to get the stoooopid mess figured out. And I must say, EVERYONE at Beaumont ran around like maniacs trying to help me out. Apparently Blue Cross has been screwing with several people like this over the past few weeks. Frickin’ insurance companies.

So, what was the final conclusion?? Basically, my insurance liaison got someone’s name, number (and promise of first born child) at Blue Cross, and they told him that it was in fact a covered expense. He told me that if it gets denied, he would help me appeal and we would eventually get it paid. Reluctantly and with fingers crossed, I signed the $4,600 financial responsibility form. I got checked in, got my hospital wristband, and they took me back immediately. The nurse put the awful IV into my arm…and you all remember what happens from there...

Yup. The breast MRI - where I lay naked, face down, dangling. Dangling is never good - for a half hour, maybe 45 minutes. Clicks, clacks, banging and grinding all around me. Then the chill of the IV fluid, with my arm squished & stretched (shuddup, it can be both squished and stretched at the same time) up above my head. And then the smell…the heparin smell…the taste…the nausea…the memories – just like chemo. Don’t move, don’t throw up, it will pass, breathe…..breathe…..breathe……more clicking, grinding, banging, don’t move….breathe…..don’t throw up…..and then it’s over.

All in all, I have to say without the Beaumont technicians and nurses, I probably would have been a complete basket case. They seriously saved me that day. And yesterday my doctor called to tell me that the scan was all clear. Yahoo!!! But, she said I need a follow-up mammogram on the left from a past scan. And I need it done now. Huh?? My response? Can’t I just wait another 6 months? Wouldn’t the MRI that I JUST had done show any issues?? Nope. They want it now. But, but, but...I just had this scan?!?! But a mammogram is different. And it was “recommended” by the radiologist and they ALWAYS follow the radiologist’s recommendations. I won’t have it!! Sigh. Ok. I will.

And yes, this is the first time I’ve tried to get out of a scan. Maybe I’m turning a corner? Maybe this is a sign? Maybe I’m becoming a little less paranoid? The old me would have jumped at any scan offered. I repeat. ANY. Hmmm…now THERE'S something to think about. Or maybe I’m just worried that there’s another fight brewing with the insurance company to get it covered. Frickin’ insurance companies.

Regardless, my next uni-lateral mammogram is currently scheduled for December 17^th. Dammit. Cancer still sucks, even when you’re “cancer free”. And quite frankly, I’m finding it quite…well, annoying at the moment. Haven’t I given cancer enough of my time over the past 2 ½ years? I’m about done with all this. I cry bullshit! I’m busy living here, you know.

Christmas at the Armstrong House

2010-12-06T09:45:00.012-05:00

Well, you can’t say my Irish/Scottish/Polish heritage doesn’t shine through. At the top of my youngest’s (soon to be 8) Christmas list? CUPONK. What the hell is CUPONK you may ask? In short, Beer Pong for Kids, minus the beer.

A cup. A ping pong ball. And cards that you draw, telling you how to bounce your ping pong ball into the cup. i.e. “the fun factor”. (You can’t just leave it to the imagination you know, at least not in the beginning.)

So yes, my child would like to learn how to bounce a small ping pong ball into a cup from across the room. He would also like to learn how do to “tricks” with said ping pong ball and cup, and wow his friends. He would even like a set of them, say 5-7, to see if he can aim and get them into the proper cup. Hmmm…what to do…what to do…

And my friends, this is the warning label:

“HIGHLY ADDICTIVE! Do not attempt to drive or operate heavy machinery while experiencing the adrenaline rush of CUPONK. Doing so may lead to impairment of shot accuracy, blurred vision, poor coordination, and excessive sweating. Consult a physician before use."

Bwahahahaha! So, all you PTA Nazis out there who think I’m an awful person for purchasing multiple CUPONKS for my kid, you can just pipe down. My kid is smart and tough, but small. The boy’s gonna need skills to put your nambi-pambi PTA prince in his place when he’s a freshman in college. And by golly, he’s gonna to have them. A little pre-beer pong training never hurt anyone.

And, now that I think about it, don't college kids turn EVERYTHING into a drinking game anyways? So, really, teach your kids well and you shouldn't have problems, right??? That's the theory I'm going with. Everything in moderation. All in good time...

Have fun while you still can and don't ruin the kid's games by turning them all dark and evil. There's enough dark and evil out there already - don't add to it - LET THEM PLAY AND HAVE FUN!!!! Sheesh. Do I need to bring up the hooker Barbie clothes?? I thought not.

Story of the Day - Busy Work

2010-11-27T14:28:00.000-05:00

And with that...comes a new perspective on life. Or call it an old perspective. Either way, it's all good.

The Choice to Shut the Hell Up

2010-11-25T01:01:00.000-05:00

As I sat in my bed crying over a horrible phone call earlier tonight, I had a sort of epiphany. Yes…I used the “E” word. I know, I know…that’s a bold move on my part. But it’s true. Ok…maybe not “epiphany”, but more of a “hello…you should know this…what the hell are you still crying for” sort of moment.

Thing is, I can yell and scream and write blogs about how people need to seize the day and make choices and “what are you waiting for” and blah blah blah until my hair turns blue. But really, what effect does that have on me? Honestly, all these people that are frustrating me have actually made choices…but for some reason, I want them to reconsider their choices…to look deeper…to think before they jump. Again – why? Why should I bother them to seize the day if they are happy with their current lives? Why should I ask them to look at their choices and analyze things – just because that’s something that I would do. What the hell do *I* have to do with any it?

Ok, maybe *I* DO have to do with some of it. And maybe I’m just hoping people will think twice about their choice because their choice was in fact to make a choice that did NOT include me. (Did ya follow that one?) But the bottom line is, if someone wants to choose a certain path, I have no power to change that path for them. This, my friends, is something that I seriously need to get through my thick skull.

Instead of trying to get people to open their eyes, I think I need to be more concerned about opening my own eyes. I think I need to be more concerned about the choices *I* make – because those I can control. If someone doesn’t choose something I think they should…so be it. If someone doesn’t move forward in their life like I think they should…so be it. And (although it sounds sad - I’m really trying to make it NOT sad)…but if someone doesn’t choose me…so be it. (personal relationships, family, work, whatever…so be it.)

I CAN’T CONTROL THOSE THINGS. I can’t hand people my crystal ball so they can see into the future and figure out whether or not the next few years are going to be happy based on their current choices. And even if I could, isn’t that kind of cheating? Aren’t we supposed to have ups and downs. Aren’t we supposed to have highs and lows? Nothing is perfect (certainly I’M not perfect). I’m just trying to live my life and take care of my family and those I love the best I can. I’m done getting upset over others’ decisions or lack thereof. It doesn’t do any of us any good. It's their decision, and they have a right to make their decision without my constant badgering. I shall, hence forward, state my case then shut the hell up.

Make my opinion known and move on. Eyes wide open. That’s my new plan. Yup. Done.

Dollar for My Thoughts

2010-11-09T12:10:00.000-05:00

There’s a lot of death swirling about these days. It just seems to be looming on the horizon – you know, that dark death cloud that I’ve talked about in the past. Everytime I turn around it seems to smack me in the face. And no, there’s nothing wrong with me (or so I’m told – knock on wood). But I’ll blog about that, too, soon. Regardless, the death cloud has arrived and settled back in.

I’ve been taking stock. I’ve been cleaning. I’ve been getting rid of unnecessary items. Unfortunately, people think this is because I’m about to kick it. I suppose it’s a natural conclusion. Actually, I’m just getting my proverbial house in order. I need to live to the best of my ability, and I’ve got all this “muck” for lack of a better word, mucking things up right now. I’ve always done my spring cleaning in the fall – something about the weather makes me feel the need to purge.

And with all this continues my crabbiness. For those of you that have had to bear the brunt of my crabby, I apologize. Well, I guess that’s only partly true. If I’ve been crabby to you simply out of crabbiness, I truly apologize. If I’ve been crabby to you where, in fact, I’ve just been a little more honest than usual, eh… I am having a very hard time dealing with wishy-washy right now. If you are one of those people in my life - a fence dweller, someone who can’t decide just what role they want to play, someone who can’t decide what they want or where they want to be - you have been warned. Seize the day. Seize the damn day people. Crabby/Realistic. Call it what you want.

Are you where you want to be? Are you doing what you want to do? Are you happy? Are the people around you happy? (There I go with that “we’re all connected” concept again. Damn me.) Are you at least moving in the general direction of a happy you and of leaving a happy memory of you with those you love? If not…change. Stop making excuses. Don’t wait. Change. Time’s a wastin’. Tick Frickin’ Tock.

I learned early this morning that another Gilda’s member had passed on – which brings the death cloud just a few steps closer. It was just another reminder that life is short and unfair (as my friend Karlyn stated.) I heard this song last spring on satellite radio (and yes, it’s country). But, I cried like a damn baby in my car when I heard it. I promptly took a pen and wrote the title/band on my hand – it was that important. “A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell them for a dollar. They're worth so much more after I'm a goner. And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'. Funny when you’re dead how people start listenin'.”

Seize the damn day.

If I Die Young
By The Band Perry

If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song

Make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother
She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors
oh and life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no
Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby

The sharp knife of a short life
Well I've had just enough time

If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song

The sharp knife of a short life
Well I've had just enough time

And I'll be wearing white, when I come into your kingdom
I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger
I've never known the lovin' of a man
But it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand
there's a boy here in town says he'll love my forever
Who would have thought forever could be severed by

The sharp knife of a short life
Well I've had just enough time

So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls
What I never did is done

A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell them for a dollar
They're worth so much more after I'm a goner
And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'
Funny when you’re dead how people start listenin'

If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song

The ballad of a dove
Go with peace and love
Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket
Save them for a time when you’re really gonna need them, oh

The sharp knife of a short life
Well I've had just enough time

So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls

The Crappy Happy Meal

2010-11-04T15:14:00.000-04:00

As many of you have probably heard, there is now a ban on happy meal toys in several parts of California – most recently San Francisco and, if my research is correct, earlier this year in Santa Clara County (which includes Silicon Valley). Now, in my “trying to be healthier” sort of way, you would think I’d be all for it. However, I seriously think these people need to get off their high horse and go munch goddam nugget.

Seriously. BANNING HAPPY MEAL TOYS? Like they’re the equivalent of a nuclear weapon or something? Do they contain plutonium? Could the toys themselves physically harm you, or anyone else in general vicinity in any way, shape or form? Are they actually sophisticated spy equipment from an alien civilization and the ban is the only way to keep our planet alive? If not, then why?? WHY I ASK YOU???

If a particular parent doesn’t want to give their child the toy, you know what? I’m going to go out on a limb and say they can probably answer the question “for a boy or a girl” with “I don’t need a toy, thanks”. Or, I don’t know…DON’T FRICKIN’ ORDER A GODDAM HAPPY MEAL!!! Seriously!

However, assuming they’re still going to order a happy meal because they’re CHEAPER, what’s the real point of a happy meal if you’re not going to get a toy? A happy meal, sans toy, is – well…just not as happy. It’s not like kids actually ever play with the box or the bag like they show on TV. That, my friends, just doesn’t happen. The kids take out their food, gobble it down, and then mess around with said toy. Then, they take the toy home and it gets thrown in with all the other misc. crap the kid has. Periodically, mom or dad has to go through said misc. crap and throw out all the McDonald’s toys while the kid isn’t looking. BUT, that doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t have been able to have the stinkin’ toy for those few minutes back at the restaurant and on the ride home. Why? Because it kept them busy and quiet and happy. And keeping them busy and quiet and happy is KEY.

The argument the government gives is that the toys entice children to go to McDonalds and eat unhealthy food. Hmmmm. A few statements from ME to explain my position:

1.) Agree: McDonalds has a fair amount of unhealthy food.

2.) Agree. On occasion McDonalds will have a series of toys that even *I* would like to acquire.

3.) Disagree: You don’t go to McDonalds to get the toy and then just happen to end up eating their food - you go to McDonalds because you want to eat a goddam cheeseburger and fries YOU BIG GIANT DOLTS! The toy is just a freebie, a take-it-or-leave-it bonus. IT’S THE PRINCIPLE OF THE THING!! You have no right to ban my stinkin’ toys! Deep breath……………calm voice……

I agree…for health reasons, don’t take your child to McDonalds several times a week. Personally, my goal is no more than twice a month, and I’m pretty good at sticking with that. However, to each his own. The government shouldn’t be able to tell you what you can or can’t eat by banning a restaurant from giving you a “freebie” with your meal if it’s not deemed “healthy enough” by Mr. X’s standards. Why on earth would they think they can do this?? It’s a frickin’ 5 cent toy! Again…deep breath……

Ok. The breathing thing’s not working.

What’s next? No crayons at Ram’s Horn if my kid orders Pancakes without sausage and with chocolate milk instead of white milk?!?! We certainly wouldn’t want him to enjoy himself if he’s going to do anything so horrible as to eat SUGAR. UGH! The horror!!!!

Bottom line here: Banning toys is not a substitute for parenting. Parenting should not be done by the government. Instead of a toy ban, how about requiring that the nutritional values be present on EACH AND EVERY piece of packaging (cups, wrappers, sleeves) - so people like me don't have to go out and search for it - cuz you know what?? I only search for so long before I give up and just start munching on the remainders of my kid's cheeseburger & fries. (Which I'm thinking is maybe WHY it's so hard to track down. Yup. I'm no idiot.) Maybe easy to find nutritional info would help the parents to make informed decisions - and it would give them something to read while their kids were playing with their recently acquired happy meal toys. It's a thought.

Everything in moderation people. If you don’t teach moderation, you end up with chaos. And kids that don't know how to eat healthy, who grow up into adults that don't know how to eat healthy.

You know what I can see happening?

Kid: “Mommy…where’s my toy”

Mom: “Well, they don’t have toys in happy meals anymore.”

Kid: “Oh. (sigh…) Why not?”

Mom: “It’s a very complicated story, people thought it made the happy meal more unhealthy.”

Kid: “Oh. What’s this?” (…hands mom a little slip of paper with a smiling Ronald McDonald face on it.)

Mom: “Hmmmm…let me see. It says ‘I am sorry we can no longer include a toy with your happy meal. When you are finished, please take this coupon up to the counter and enjoy a snack size McFlurry of your choice!! Come back and see us soon! Love, Ronald.’ Well, that was very nice of them!! Here you go, here’s an extra $2.00. Why don’t you get one for me, too. M&M’s please.”

Kid: “Thanks Mom!!! I didn’t think I was getting dessert today…”

Seriously - you government knuckleheads. Do you REALLY think McDonalds isn’t going to find some other way to keep the happy meals “happy”? Come on…They’re "HAPPY" for a reason.

Boy, I Really Thought Like Shit Today – From The Onion

2010-11-03T11:44:00.000-04:00

Yes…you all know I’m a big Onion fan. And my friend Barb showed this particular article to me…so now I’m a big Strobe Talbott fan. I swear, this guy is the male version of me. Seriously, as you read, can’t you just hear my voice? Can’t you just picture me writing this?? Mr. Talbott, we should meet. We were definitely separated at some point in this life – or knew each other in a past one. Either way, you & me – we LIKETHIS.

COMMENTARY
Boy, I Really Thought Like Shit Today
BY STROBE TALBOTT
PRESIDENT, THE BROOKINGS INSTITUTION
OCTOBER 28, 2010
ISSUE 46•43

When you lead America's No. 1 political think tank, you've got to always be thinking, and thinking hard. Each day, I go to the office, catch up on my correspondence, and then to set to work: fresh insights and ideas, bold new paradigms, groundbreaking ways of looking at things. That's my job. And most days I think up two or three solid public-policy initiatives before I've even finished my morning coffee.

Not today. No, today I didn't think for shit.

What do I have to show for eight hours of work? A notebook filled with doodles and some tic-tac-toe games I played against myself. You call that thinking, Strobe? You get paid to think of innovative, practical recommendations that strengthen democracy and foster social welfare, and you're sitting here playing your fifth consecutive hand of solitaire?

Fucking idiot.

For God's sake, this is the Brookings Institution! The place that helped create the U.N. and the Marshall Plan. You're expected to think at the highest level. You're supposed to walk into a meeting and say, "Hey, you know what I just thought of that would increase the accountability of the federal government? A nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office." That's what people do at a think tank. Come on, Talbott, get your shit together!

It's not like I came in planning to goof off all day. In fact, I had a pretty full schedule: 9 to 10:30, think about poverty; 10:30 to 12:30, think about chemical weapons; 12:30, lunch at desk, brainstorming exercises; 1:30 to 4, think about alternative energy; 4 to 6, think outside the box. But what did I do? Sat around with my thumb up my ass.

What is wrong with me?

For someone who's been at the think-tank game as long as I have, this routine should be old hat. I should be able to waltz in with some kind of plan to fix Social Security, evaluate nuclear disarmament for a couple hours—the usual stuff. As it is, if I don't develop a couple new strategies for more efficiently disbursing foreign aid—or something—pretty quick, I'm gonna be stuck here all goddamn night.

I've had, what, two, maybe three thoughts all day? Oh, yeah, this was a doozy: "bigger airplanes." Nice one, asshole. What a retard! Why did I even write that down?

Dammit, Strobe, that's not going to cut it. Not at a think tank. Not at the Brookings Institution. Think, man, think!

There was one point, around 1:30 or so, when I thought I had a breakthrough. I was in the bathroom thinking, "Hey, maybe we could use methane digesters and hydroelectric turbines to generate power from our sewage-treatment plants." I started to get excited and even told my secretary to get ready to take dictation, but then it hit me: You know where that thought came from? A meeting we had five years ago. And it was someone else's idea. And it wasn't even a good one, because it was dismissed for not being cost-effective.

Bra-vo!

Oh, and also? A reporter from The Wall Street Journal called earlier. She wanted a quote on nuclear brinksmanship and the situation in North Korea. I told her I'd get back to her. Never did. Why? Because my mind is just a piece of shit today, and I can't even think well enough to parrot the most obvious talking points from our own fucking position papers!

God, now all I can think about is how little I can think. It's like a snake swallowing its own tail. If I can't break this vicious circle, I'm fucked. I can't even generate a decent train of thought to…

Wait. Snakes. Trains. Trains like snakes. Snake-like… Nope, lost it. Yup, I'm fucked.

Way to go, Strobe, you complete and utter jackass. Way to go.

Full Link Here

Holiday Hooey

2010-10-26T20:37:00.000-04:00

The holidays are coming. What does this mean in “Nan World”? It means stress, and family, and spending too much money, and cooking, and baking, and not being able to spend time with the people that I necessarily want to spend time with – not that I really know who those people actually are. (Well, maybe I do, to some extent.) Regardless (not irregardless – because THAT isn’t a word, you complete DOLTS who actually think it is – can’t say that I never taught you anything, now can you?) Ahem…as I was saying…REGARDLESS, the holidays are coming, and the funk is setting in. Problem is, my natural compulsion to love the holidays is fighting “the funk” tooth and nail. So, there’s a goddam brawl going on in my head. Seriously. It’s exhausting.

I LOVE the holiday season – Thanksgiving in particular. Why? Because I get the warm fuzzies when I think “Thanksgiving”. It all centers around my childhood and my grandparents - watching the parade on TV (nope…never made it down to the “D” in person for the parade, someday…sigh…), football, the smell of pumpkin pie (even though the thought of consuming pumpkin pie nauseates me), giant turkeys, and gravy on everything (even green beans). Thanksgiving is *MY* holiday. There’s just something about it. I’ve taken it over somewhat by default. Basically I do it, or it doesn’t get done. Everyone converges on my house shortly before the start of the football game - we eat, kids play, people yell at the Lions, dogs lay at your feet, I open the kitchen window cuz it’s too hot with the oven on - it’s all good.

So, what’s wrong with this picture? I shall tell you. I’ve NEVER had a significant other that properly participated in the festivities. Even when I was married my ex would be there, but he was off on his own. Oh - he’d stop by the kitchen on occasion, and then he was off to hang out by the pool table or the computer. In fact, out of all the people I’ve ever dated, only two people have EVER attended a holiday function – one Easter, and one Christmas. And both of those relationships were very short lived. Goddammit. Alas…we’re talking Thanksgiving.

So, fine, go do your thing. I’m NOT a needy person. Seriously. But stinkin’ participate every once in a while, will ya? Help me lift the 30 lb turkey out of the oven. When I’m in the kitchen cooking, come sit and TALK to me for 10 minutes. You don’t necessarily need to do anything, just BE there. (And don’t come in the kitchen for the sole purpose of groping me in front of my father…but that’s another post for another day.) You know damn well that the parade is my frickin’ thing – how about remind me that it’s almost 9:00 and actually turn it on? Hmmm??? Maybe you could do THAT instead of watching some documentary or actually turning off the TV shortly before 9am and then turning on the radio…IT’S THE THANKSGIVING PARADE!! SANTA CLAUS IS COMING TO TOWN! HOLY CRAP THIS IS A BIG STINKIN’ DEAL PEOPLE!

And let’s move on to Christmas, shall we? And yes, I’m the one that hosts that holiday too. But before Christmas, comes Christmas Eve. THAT is held at my cousin Don’s house. And that, my friends, is a PARRRR-TAY. We eat, we drink, and we be merry. Throughout the evening, I’m going to say around 100 people come and go through a tiny house in Roseville. Down in the basement…is a bar. Yes, a bar. And that’s where we mostly hang out…everyone who’s old enough to drink, that is. My cousin John brings a keg of his homemade beer. Every hour, on the hour, we do socials - you pick your shot (ahem…mine is whiskey). And I repeat, WE BE MERRY. It’s still a family occasion, little ones are meandering about, and we open presents. And yes, we are responsible – so don’t get all high and mighty on me people. Several of my family members go off to mass at midnight (Catholics…gotta love ‘em), while I usually high-tail it outta there around 11pm, since I host the next morning’s festivities. So, what’s wrong with this picture?? Again…it’s me and my kids. And it’s always me and my kids. I can only remember 3, maybe 4 times out of my entire 39 years on this planet when I didn’t attend Christmas Eve on my own. Sad really…so many people in my life would have REALLY enjoyed that side of my family.

And so, Christmas Day comes…we wake up early – PRESENTS!!! I do love a good present. Not necessarily an expensive present mind you, but a good present. Even if it costs you zero dollars, if you thought about it and made some effort, it will end up being my favorite thing in the world. And so, by golly, I’m not sleeping my Christmas morning away! But again, no one else seems to share this enthusiasm – other than my sisters, my dad, and my children. And so, we open presents, breakfast is cooked, the crumpled wrapping paper is cleared away, and everyone gets ready for the rest of the guests to arrive. (That’s the abbreviated version…) Generally, there’s 20-35 people at my house on Christmas Day – and I truly love it. But again, it would be nice if someone “significant” would be there also, not necessarily cooking the ham or chopping apples, but just PRESENT.

And then I get to breathe on “Eat My Leftovers Day”. Yes, December 26th is officially “Eat My Leftovers Day” where my adopted family comes to my house to help me get rid of all the extra food I’ve unnecessarily cooked, prepared, chopped and assembled over the prior few days. It’s relaxing for the most part, and I get to see them finally, once everything has calmed down. It would be nice if my brothers were around, but beggars can’t be choosers. Generally, it’s just my sister and Aunt, sometimes my cousin. And that’s it. Do you see a pattern here?

And I’m not saying it’s all about me. I have never ONCE been invited to anyone else’s house for a holiday. Never once in my 39 years on this planet – and most of those adult years I’ve been in relationships. So, don’t tell me I’m not willing to compromise – I’ve never been given the stinkin’ opportunity.

Now I realize there are reasons for everything. Some people just aren’t big into holidays. Some people have other places to be. Some people aren’t good with change. Some people think that the world is all or nothing and tradition is tradition. Some people think there's always next year. Some people think that a phone call or an expensive gift will make up for effort and quality time. Unfortunately, that’s just not the case.

I’m basically a simple girl. I require simple things. Don’t spend a bunch of money. Don’t “phone it in”. Be genuine, make an effort, compromise, evolve, change, BE THERE. The further relationships move forward - the more time you spend together - the more time you spend together as a family (or potential family) - and voila!! You're working towards a future (or should be). To have a long term relationship and not spend holidays, birthdays, big events together - well that just seems like a bunch of hooey to me.

It took a long time, but I finally realized that I don’t much like hooey. Nope. Don’t much like it.

Bottom line: Although I’m probably going to end up just like Hazel (dig up the Richard Shindell song if you’re seriously interested), that doesn’t mean I necessarily WANT to end up just like Hazel. I could happily BE Hazel, but I could happily have someone significant in my life too. Might even end up happier with someone. Gasp! I know, I know. I guess I'm not a loner after all. And now that I think about it...Richard never said the love of Hazel's life wasn't sitting in the next room eating crumb cake with their fingers. Hmmm...

I’m telling you…think simple. And leave the hooey behind.

The Sweet Spot

2010-10-22T12:47:00.000-04:00

There is a song by one of my favorite artists, Antje Duvekot, called Sweet Spot. As the chorus goes…”This is the sweet spot of your life”. I’ve been thinking about that a lot recently. I’ve also been thinking that the fact that I’ve been thinking about this is, well, corny as all get out. But, honestly, I’m getting over the corniness. (Yup…it’s a word.) And corny or not, I’m going to inflict a little bit of corn upon my readers. Deal.

I think I’m finally coming into my sweet spot. It took 39 years, a lot of searching, a lot (and I mean an awful lot) of twists and turns, plenty of “WTF was I thinkings”, and the map to where I want to be is just about in reach. I know, you’re all thinking…after all that crap she’s happy with the possibility of getting a frickin’ MAP?!?!?! Well…yes. Yes, I am. And this is why: Because I’ve finally realized that it’s all in the journey. No shit. It really is.

People always say it’s not where you’re going, it’s how you get there. When you hear that, it’s a natural reaction to mentally shrug and say “uh-huh, are we there yet?” (At least that been MY reaction in the past.) But in reality…those damn people are right. If only we would figure this out sooner. Months, years, perhaps decades could be added to our sweet spots. Shuddup. Stop with the eye rolling. I’m damn serious! I believe the sweet spot only appears once we realize what makes the sweet spot so “sweet” – OUR OWN LIFE – the day to day moments. Once we stop looking for the *poof* to happiness (and yes, I do get a mental picture of the Fairly OddParents when I say that – sorry, I have kids), once we stop looking for those ruby slippers that will “take us home”, once we accept that WE have the power to find sweetness in the smallest of moments – only then can the sweet spot materialize.

Now…I will admit, the “Sweet Spot Theory” came to me on a day in particular (um…Tuesday morning) when I was (still kinda am), shall we say - crabby. Yes, even today I’m not in the best of moods. I’m grumpy, lonely, don’t feel particularly well, feel fairly sorry for myself, and generally have this overwhelming feeling that life is short – don’t blink. There are several reasons for this, none of which I feel are good enough to substantiate my crabbiness, so I’m not going to bore you with details. Suffice it to say, we all get crabby and bitter at times. And lonely. And grumpy. And, well, you get the idea.

Regardless, even in my crabbiness, I can see that I need to snap myself out of it. Why? Because my sweet spot doesn’t have time for crabby and bitter. And, well, sweet can kick the crap out of bitter any day of the week in my world. And quite frankly, I like my world – it’s a nice world. You should visit sometime. But only if you’re not a consistently whiny crabby-ass. I can’t have you bittering up my sweet spot now, can I?

Yeah. So deal.

Story of the Day - Crapshoot

2010-10-22T12:41:00.001-04:00

Working on Bras for a Cause

2010-10-18T20:45:00.000-04:00

Being that I was Committee Chair this year, I had to write something for the program (well, truth be told, I actually edited the program, so I wrote a bunch of things - but one BIG thing as Chairperson). Anyways, I've had several people ask me to post my "Committee Chair Letter" on my blog...so here it is.

It's a bit wordy (I know, you are all shocked and stunned that *I* can be a bit WORDY of all things...) But alas...here it is...with picture and all. And I do need to give photo credit to my beautiful fabulous wonderful friend Barbara Mudge, with assistant credit to Mr. Alessandro Nolan Piva (ahem...yes, my 7 year old was her assistant that day...giggle!)

Read on...

In August of 2008 I was diagnosed with stage II breast cancer and suddenly my life became a whirlwind of doctors, hospitals, surgeries, and countless tests. I had little time to comprehend the concept that I was diagnosed with cancer, or the effect that it might have on my life weeks, months, even years later. As I was shuffled through the system I started to keep a journal, blogging about my experiences including day to day thoughts on chemo, MRIs and CT scans, and more general feelings on hair loss and mortality. I was trying to make sense of it all, but it wasn’t until I stepped through the red door of Gilda’s Club Metro Detroit that I started to truly breathe.

I had an amazing support system throughout treatment – friends, family and an extremely understanding employer. I was just finishing chemo, getting ready to start radiation, and suddenly I panicked. I felt lost and had no idea how I had even made it that far. Something clicked in my head – I needed to talk. I needed to listen. I needed to know people who had actually been there, and who truly “got it”. So, after years of driving by that big beautiful gray house, I finally walked into Gilda’s Club – and it felt like home. Instantly, a weight had been lifted off my shoulders and those cloudy, cold days of February seemed a little more sunny and warm.

I wasn’t looking for therapy and didn’t want someone to look at me and say “and how does that make you feel?” I also didn’t want to sit and mope collectively for hours on end. I needed reality mixed with optimism – and that’s what I got. The first meeting I attended at Gilda’s was The Rack Pack, a support group for young adults diagnosed with breast cancer in their 20’s and 30’s. From the second I walked into the room, I felt an amazing sense of comfort. I can still picture Shannon Watson sitting on the couch at the far end of the room, and Alyson Thrift in the chair next to her. They instantly made me feel like I belonged and talked to me like an old friend. As Shannon was one of the original founders of The Rack Pack, losing her this year has been extremely difficult for all of us, but at the same time has brought us closer together. Our Rack Pack meetings continue to be more like living room talks – open, honest and free. They are filled with laughter, tears, anger and joy – all necessary emotions as we deal with cancer, and the life that happens around it. Shannon was determined not to let cancer rule her life, and through The Rack Pack, we are able to remind each other of what is truly important. We are there for each other with hugs, cheers and tissues – whatever is necessary to encourage a lifetime full of happiness.

Wellness Groups meet weekly at Gilda’s and are for adults diagnosed with all types of cancer, at any stage of treatment. It was there that I began to expand my friendships and have met some of the most amazing people. Every day I think about the other members of Gilda’s and can’t help but be inspired. Being around men and women who might be dealing with a cancer diagnosis that’s different than my own not only gives me perspective, but allows me to learn and offer my support. A Wellness Group is an upbeat, positive atmosphere where you can talk, sit quietly, or express frustrations; and a hug is ALWAYS available when times are tough.

There is a group for everyone at Gilda’s – survivors, friends, and family alike – even groups for children. The key point to living with a cancer diagnosis is in the word “living”. Gilda’s helps you learn to live your life – despite what might be going on in your body. Going to meetings gives you that warm fuzzy feeling that we all crave. Gilda’s Club allows you to make friendships based on a common bond, and gives you someone to lean on when you need them.

Donations may be down, but in these hard times the need for individual and family support continues to increase. I cannot stress how important it is to have a place like Gilda’s Club available for cancer patients, survivors, their families and friends – where support services are provided completely free of charge in a warm, home-like atmosphere. Gilda’s is TRULY unique and I can assure you that it’s not a luxury by any means. Gilda’s Club is a necessary part of the healing process, needed not only for us, but for future generations. It’s a place where those affected by cancer can go to be welcomed with open arms.

I would like to thank everyone who has contributed, allowing us to carry on Shannon’s dream. It is because of YOU, and the perfect blueprint Shannon left behind for us to follow, that our 2nd Annual Bras for a Cause promises to be an amazing success.

Enjoy your evening, have fun, and thank you for supporting Bras for a Cause and Gilda’s Club Metro Detroit!

Nancy Armstrong

Committee Chair

Bras for a Cause

The Pink Party Pooper

2010-10-13T20:21:00.001-04:00

Where’s the love people…

Freedom of speech – you’ve got it. And so do I. I am referring to the following article, if you might be so inclined to read. If not, you should get the idea by the end of my semi-rant.

Click HERE to read: Think Before You Pink

While as a general rule I agree with what the author of this article is trying to do, I think he’s going about it in the wrong way. You can catch more “nutritionally ignorant women” with honey than with vinegar. Ahem… Yes, it’s Breast Cancer AWARENESS Month. Not Breast Cancer PREVENTION Month. Does that mean the goal is to create more awareness of breast cancer, thereby causing fear and forcing people to get unnecessary cancer-causing tests, thus creating MORE cancer which will lead to ongoing expensive treatments to further line the pockets of the higher-ups in the health care industry? No. It means YOU (the average person) should support those that have been previously diagnosed emotionally (and monetarily if you can), you should further realize that that breast cancer is becoming more common and know what to look for to take care of yourself. Seriously…are we just searching for reasons to fight? Are we not on the same side? Cancer = Bad, Healthy = Good? Do we not agree?

Bottom line: It’s my opinion that the author is biased. He’s stuck in “I’m right, you’re wrong” world and can’t see that yes, mistakes are made (there is a human behind every curtain – at least I’d like to think so), but for the most part the general “good intent” is there. Instead of chastising, why don’t you offer your hand to help? Why don’t you offer to be an UNBIASED speaker at one of the events to guide the lost souls? And I really need to stress “unbiased” here. REALLY. Because sorry, you’re freakin’ biased, Mr. Author Guy. You want to educate? Then educate. But do so in a way that doesn’t imply that someone’s a stupid dumbass and not worthy of recognition for any good that they’ve done or attempted to do in the past. And, I’m sorry…some of these charities have done a GOSH DARN HECK OF A LOT OF GOOD. Can we say olive branch people? Meet in the middle perhaps? Hmmmm??

That being said, in the interest of being unbiased, I will simply mention one MAJOR faux pas (to put it VERY lightly) in my humble opinion when it comes to Komen for the Cure – the KFC Chicken Buckets. Seriously? Who was the individual who thought it was a brilliant idea to use fried chicken to promote / raise money for breast cancer research? Is there anything less healthy than fried foods? ESPECIALLY fried “fast” food? Really. Who the hell approved that ad campaign.

And now, back to my issue with the Pink Party Pooper. This is the thing. As I’ve said, for the most part I agree. We need to stress cancer prevention more. Healthy = better. It’s a very simply equation. Does that mean we need to forget about cancer research and a cancer cure? HELLS TO THE NO. Why? Because people already have cancer, you dolt. It’s not like cancer is a new disease. “Too bad, so sad…they didn’t prevent cancer from getting into their bodies so I shall cross them off the list – they are a lost cause”. The millions of people who’ve had a cancer diagnosis are literally screwed in this respect. Why? According to Mr. Author Guy, cancer wasn’t prevented so they’re not worthy of our thoughts or intentions. Seriously? OK, OK, they can change their diet (and should), exercise (and should), start living a healthier, calmer lifestyle (and should), and make their bodies a less “happy” place for those cancer cells to live. It all sounds perfect and easy peasy lemon-squeezy, right? But you know what? It’s not. For those that have already been diagnosed…now what? The cancer cells have already moved in, so they’re behind the 8 ball. Should they throw their arms up in the air and say “oh well, I guess I’ll just lay down and die.” Of course not. However, simply changing your diet doesn’t make the cancer disappear. That, my friends, is NOT a simple equation.

Are we now blaming the patient for genetic issues? Too damn bad if they’re 4th generation BRCA – it’s THEIR fault they have f’d up gene mutations! Are we now blaming the patient for environmental factors from their childhood? Yes, it would be nice to think that when we were kids our parents didn’t feed us Twinkies at 3:30pm daily while we watched Woody Woodpecker. And it would be even nicer if they didn’t smoke with the windows up in the car when we were little as we sat, bouncing around without a seatbelt in the back seat. But the fact of the matter is, they did. Would I change that if I could go back in time? Yes. But you know what? I was a child of the 70s and my parents did what they wanted. Sorry everyone – you, like me, are screwed.

Maybe I don’t have back-up to refute “70-90% preventable” that’s stated in the above article (and maybe I don’t want to – those are good numbers, but, um…where did they come from? It would be nice to know as they do seem a bit on the optimistic side.) I do, however, take offense to “real freedom from breast cancer can only be attained if you de-program yourself from the cancer industry propaganda and heal yourself by choosing to live an anti-cancer lifestyle”. Really? I would really like that freedom. So you’re telling me that my friends and I who have already been diagnosed can just “choose” to live an anti-cancer lifestyle and we will be free from breast cancer. Wow. I didn’t realize it was that easy? Choose it and it shall be! Damn… I have some phone calls to make.

And hey, Mr. Author Guy, why don’t you tell that to my friend Shannon. Oh wait. You can’t because she died in April…of breast cancer. She was 29 and LIVED the anti-cancer lifestyle. She was as holistic as holistic can be. She tried for years treating her cancer without chemo, without radiation, without drugs. She was the healthiest stage IV cancer patient I knew. She juiced, ate only whole organic foods, exercised regularly, did coffee enemas (and a collective ewww… radiates from the crowd, but that shit works people, trust me), took enzymes, probiotics, saunas, wheat grass (and yes, she grew her own), and did so many other things I can’t even remember. You all know her if you’ve read my blog in the past. Yeah…that Shannon. The thing is, she was the BIGGEST proponent of a healthy lifestyle. She was the BIGGEST proponent of preventing cancer. She was the BIGGEST proponent of creating an unhappy place for those cancer cells in your body. BUT, because cancer had already grabbed hold of her, simply preventing was not going to work. She needed a combination of modern medicine / research AND holistic / natural remedies. The last few months she went back to modern medicine and was on chemo, but it was too late.

Shannon’s cancer was genetic. She was BRCA positive. Her first diagnosis was when she was 25…while living a healthy, holistic, natural life – she was Stage II then. She was re-diagnosed two years later as metastatic Stage IV, still living the holistic life. Hmmmm…

So, if we stop funding the research, if we stop looking for a cure and concentrate SOLELY on prevention, where would those like Shannon be? Just something to think about.

Komen for the Cure is in the “business” of research. They raise TONS of money for research. Literally, tons. No, they are not in the “business” of prevention, BUT THEY ARE NOT AGAINST PREVENTION and I take offense (on their behalf) to the comment that they are. Maybe, if people weren’t so one sided about everything, they could work together and spread the word on BOTH prevention and research. Both seem necessary to me. In fact, I’d go out on a limb and say they go hand in hand. What officials at Komen did you talk to? Names, quotes, where’s the back-up? I would bet that the higher ups at Komen would like to know who is saying these awful things. Honestly, everyone that I know who is involved with Komen (and any other cancer related charity / institution here in the Detroit area) would seriously lose it if they even had an inkling that someone in their organization was actually thinking this way or making these sorts of comments.

“There’s a ton of money in keeping women nutritionally ignorant.” Really? Isn’t there a ton of money in teaching women (and men) how to be the opposite? Living naturally is NOT cheap. Have you been to Whole Foods recently? Have you, Mr. Author Guy, volunteered to teach these apparently ignorant folks the “natural path” that you preach? It seems like you’re just trying to scare the shit out of us…much like you’re claiming the “cancer industry” is doing. No one learns anything worthwhile in that manner. I would happily attend seminars, talks, lectures, whatnot (and have in the past) on how to live a healthy lifestyle as a cancer survivor / patient. Don’t bully. Guide…teach… And don’t knock us for supporting other things related to cancer research, etc.

Of fucking course PREVENT! (sorry, language, but I’m a little uppity right now) Who in their right mind would say “don’t prevent”? Yes, we, as a society need to make changes in our diet and lifestyles. However, cancer is not a conspiracy thought up by doctors and the government – I don’t care how much money the “cancer industry” makes (as the article implies). I say, as do my doctors, you should make every effort to prevent yourself from getting ANY type of cancer. But when you can’t, if you draw the proverbial short cancer straw, deal with it as best you can. There is a happy medium between natural and traditional medicine that can be found if you make the effort. And it’s the choice of the patient – and the patient’s choice should not be judged. Sometimes it’s a necessity, based on the diagnosis, to have chemo and radiation. Either way, those that believe deeply one way or the other should offer what information they have, and then let it be.

Am I an expert. No. Do I have a big pile of statistics and data to back me up. No. Then again, Mr. Author Guy gave statistics and data, but never revealed the source…hmmm… But what I do have is logic, common sense, and empathy.

So, who am I? I am a cancer survivor with a healthy amount of gumption who isn’t too afraid to speak her mind. I, for one, am glad there are charities out there that focus on things other than prevention – like research and cancer support. Why? Because even with the best of intentions, not everything can be prevented. And in the end, the goal is the same whether you choose holistic or modern medicine: Life.

They just don't make 'em like that anymore

2010-10-12T23:11:00.000-04:00

With everything going on with my Uncle, I’ve got memories and thoughts swirling and spilling out of my brain – a combination of sad/happy/inspirational/lonely memories and thoughts. An emotionally draining combo actually. Would it be different if it wasn’t cancer that is wreaking havoc in his life at this point? Maybe. Cancer seems to be the “key” term these days in my world. Dammit.

And so, why… WHY is this so frustrating. It’s more than just the fact that it’s cancer. It’s more than just the fact that he’s family. It’s more than just the fact that we were fairly close over the years. It’s more of a “Why Him?” Because he, like Shannon, was one of the strongest people I’ve known – until the cancer started kicking his ass.

Background: The thing is, my Uncle is the crazy one. Not crazy as in clinically “not all there”, but crazy as in “so NOT 84 years old” and absolutely obsessed with life in an amazingly great way. Up until a few years ago, not only did he square dance and clog (I know…”old” people things, but still ACTIVE) on a regular basis, but he was moving about, exercising, and if I remember correctly he had even taken up rollerblading – all with my aunt. Not bad for a little old man, eh? But I repeat, he wasn’t “old”.

My Uncle moved to the Boston area when I was little (I think that’s when, I can’t really remember). I LOVE the east coast, and I loved going out there to visit. It feels like home to me being by the water - the cape, the old houses, the gardens everywhere…it’s just perfect. I was welcome anytime by my Uncle and his wife (even though he and my mother didn’t speak – more on that another day). My Uncle and Aunt were my first “real glimpse” of a truly GOOD relationship. Not that my parents had a horrible relationship, they basically acted like roommates and my sister and I were squatters. As long as we didn’t cause trouble, we were pretty much left alone. My dad would make more of an effort, but as a cohesive family unit, not so much. But my Uncle was affectionate, spent time with my Aunt, and actually seemed to enjoy her company. They DID things together – dancing, walking, camping, swimming, gardening, etc. He would have done anything for my Aunt and her family – not because he was supposed to, but because he wanted to.

Back in 1989 there was a story that came out of Brooklyn (another place I LOVE), which reminded me of my Uncle. My Uncle was so dedicated to my Aunt and his family, that from an outsider who wasn’t in the business of knowing ANYTHING about relationships, it seemed like obsession to me. But it was a good obsession. He loved my Aunt, and it seemed he gave thought to her on EVERYTHING he did – every move he made. She was his #1 priority. And so, when I read this story of a man who lost his wife and decided to turn their apartment into a shrine, it didn’t seem odd to me – my Uncle would do that in a heartbeat.

I read this article originally in the NY Times while I was a freshman in college, but this is the People version that I was able to track down online.

In Memory of His Wife, Joe Furey Created An Unusual Artwork That May Not Survive
(from People)
By Ron Arias
October 19, 1989

It's a warm afternoon in Brooklyn, N.Y., and Joseph Furey is standing in the empty, five-room apartment that he and his wife, Lillian, shared for more than 40 years. Thousands of tiny heart-shaped cardboard cutouts, seashells, bits of tile, pieces of glass, and painted peas, lima beans and clay birds festoon every wall, door and ceiling. Lillian died in 1981, but Furey, now 83, stayed on alone for another seven years, obsessed with an unusual labor of love and sorrow. "That's how I come to do it," he tells the reporter who has accompanied him on this visit. "I just kept decorating the place, doing it for her and maybe to kill time and forget some of the grief."

Last year Furey left the apartment to live with a son in upstate New York. He had been mugged twice in the old, three-story walk-up after burglars caught him napping. "I didn't hear 'em break in 'cause I had my hearing aid turned off," he says, jabbing the air with a sharp left. "Yeah, I used to be a boxer. But now I guess I'm—what's the word?—an artiste."

Whatever the label, Furey is a folk-art original who has created "an epic work of beauty," says Barbara Head Millstein, an associate curator of the Brooklyn Museum and Furey's principal champion. "And what makes this so wonderful is that he did it because he was insanely in love with his wife."

Often working on scaffolds 12 hours a day, Furey created his swirls, crosses and other patterns with about 90,000 objects. Millstein and others would like to preserve the creation, and Furey says he is flattered. But the prospects are dim because the apartment's landlord wants to gut and renovate the place and turn it into a co-op. "I love the man and his work," says Vincent Kelley of Davis Kelley Associates, owners of the building. "But I've got investors to answer to. I'll have to do something in the next few months."

Furey inspects the fallen plaster and decorative pieces in the bathroom, where a ceiling leak has caused some damage. "This was the first room I did," he says, noting that he started it before Mom, as he calls Lillian, died at 76 of a heart attack. "I wanted to brighten it up, and red hearts were her favorite." He points to the jaunty bow-tie cutouts, put up for an oldtime friend nicknamed Bow-tie George. The clam, mussel and spiral-shaped shells were collected from a local deli and a nearby beach as well as from Venezuela, where Furey spent two years working in the late 1940s. "I wrote Mom every day I was there," he says. "I brought home two bushels of shells to decorate picture frames, end tables and jewelry boxes. I guess that's when all the decorating started."

Furey's own origins were in Camden, N.J., where he came from a family of six. His mother died when he was 2, and his father was an unaffectionate, itinerant dockyard worker. Furey left school in the fifth grade and started work at age 12 as a riveter in a Boston boiler-works factory. Later, in the mid-'20s, he won about 60 boxing matches as a light heavyweight while serving on a Navy cruiser. After his Navy stint, he won three semipro bouts in Boston, then quit the ring and found construction work in New York. It was there that he met and married Lillian in 1933 and began a family of five children, one of whom died in infancy and one from rheumatic fever at 8.

As an ironworker foreman, Furey spent almost 40 years building and repairing skyscrapers, piers and bridges. "It was tough going at times," he says, flexing a tattooed biceps. "But I had good kids and a beaut of a woman by my side. They just don't make 'em like that anymore."

Millstein figures at least $65,000 would be needed to preserve the apartment but admits the Brooklyn Museum has little money for such a project. "I hope they save it," Furey says with a shrug. "But if they don't, well, I can still take a punch. It ain't gonna knock me out."

And so, I ask this question now that my Uncle is in his last months/weeks/days drowning in the after-effects of a lung cancer diagnosis - who’s going to do that for him? Who’s going to fill the shells with plaster and adhere them to the ceiling, just to pass the time? It’s not that my Aunt doesn’t love my Uncle, it’s just different. I think she’s going to be just fine. She’ll suffer great loss, but I think she will get through it way quicker/easier than he ever could if the tables were turned. Maybe that’s a male/female thing. Women bounce back quicker and generally “deal” better.

I guess I’ve reached a point in my life where although I’m comfortable being alone, that doesn’t mean I want to live that way forever. If I do actually find that person to spend my life with, I want it to be right. I want the type of relationship where either of us would happily paste cardboard hearts, macaroni, dried peas, shells and who knows what else onto the walls, ceilings and trim of every inch of our home. Whether my love story ends up being physically preserved in a museum or in our minds through the beauty of memories…it’s what I want.

The Beauty of Memories

2010-10-01T23:10:00.000-04:00

And now, we take a break from our regularly scheduled programming for 12 minutes and 7 seconds of something truly beautiful.

This video was forwarded to me….with a title translation...as the forwarding party knows darn well that I don’t speak a lick of ANY foreign language. (One of my biggest regrets from my younger days, but that’s not today’s post.)

I’m told this film won the 2008 Academy Award for Best Animated Short Film and after doing a bit more research, I’ve found it won a whole lot more than that. The title “La maison en petit cubes" means roughly “house of small cubes”.

Maybe this film is touching me so deeply right now because I’ve been thinking about my uncle lately. He’s out in the Boston area, and was recently diagnosed with lung cancer, which has already spread to his ribs and spine. He’s in his mid 80’s and has also been dealing with dementia – so he sometimes forgets that he’s ill. I can only imagine…

And so, watching this film, and thinking of perhaps losing my memories at some point in my life, forgetting everything that’s happened, everything I’ve gone through, everyone I’ve met, everyone who has played a part in my life….wow. I don’t even know what to say. This film hit me fairly hard, but I was pretty much ok throughout - until the last “clink”. Then I cried like a little girl.

Get your art on people. Enjoy. It’s a beautiful story.

Bras for a Cause…Update #3

2010-09-29T12:24:00.001-04:00

Just when you thought I was done, BAM!!!! I come out with videos! Yes, I said videos. I know you’ve all been waiting, and well, wait no more. The amazing Nick Miotke has done it again! He is seriously THE MAN. I’ve got your Gilda’s Videos…I’ve got your highlight video…all courtesy of Nick. Right there below, go ahead…CLICK!! You know you want to.

What Gilda's mean to me? from nick miotke on Vimeo.

Why do I need Gildas? from nick miotke on Vimeo.

Bras For A Cause 2010 from nick miotke on Vimeo.

More pictures next. Also from the amazing Nick Miotke. And even some more from Shadow & Soul Photography & Melissa Slotta. And when Glenn Corcoran’s photos come in (our 4th photographer), yup! They will be posted too. That’s right my good people. I AM NOT DONE YET!

Bras for a Cause...Update #2

2010-09-27T21:56:00.000-04:00

I promised you pics...and I've got pics. So here you go!!

Melissa Slotta, and Rachel Sisco (of Shadow & Soul Photo), have turned in their photos from the evening. We are still waiting on a few more photographers, but in the meantime, here are some of my favs...

The Bras...

A close up by Melissa.

More bras...from a new angle.

All in all, the bras were BEAUTIFUL this year!! Even the pictures were amazing. No seriously...I kid you not. And my sister Robin made two that were chosen to be modeled in the fashion show (my niece Chelsea's was also modeled...I will post that picture soon too.) But Robin's bras are below. I'm wearing "Tin Cans", and Rachel is wearing "Bathing Beauties". She's pretty talented, eh? And Rach and I are pretty cute too...

Me and Rachel

Bras for a Cause...Update #1

2010-09-25T06:26:00.000-04:00

Well, the 2nd Annual Bras for a Cause is over, and I’m in that “withdrawal phase”. It’s very hard to go from such intense planning to “it’s done”. That’s not to say I’m not still working on the show…

Blogs are being written (obviously), thank you emails are being sent, photographers are being contacted so I can fetch photos and videos of the event (I’m VERY impatient!!!), I’m doing regular searches to find stories that have been written about us so I can post them, bidders are slowly being tracked down on unclaimed items, and believe it or not, I’m already thinking about next year’s show. Am I going to be the committee chair next year? I don’t know. I would like to, but I haven’t talked to the committee yet. If anyone else want to take the reins, it’s only fair to spread the wealth, so to speak. We shall see…

My Niece Chelsea and I.

We had a photobooth again, Wink Booth this year, and honestly these are really the best pics I’ve got from the evening. Seems as though all the media out there steered clear of me…hmmm….it makes a girl wonder. Or maybe I just didn’t sit still very long. Hmmm…

But from these pics I look cute, right? RIGHT??? Well, a little out there, admitted.

Me and Marie.

Me, Barb and Nay.

I know the photographers have a pic or two of me. You will see those later. I should be picking up some from Melissa Slotta and her friend, Rachel Sisco, of Shadow & Soul Photography tomorrow. In the meantime, you can see a few of Rachel's here: Shadow & Soul PhoBLOGraphy And FYI...anyone who lives in the Metro Detroit area, Rachel is AMAZING...I am absolutely in love with her photos and her style in general. You should seriously check out her website/blog. Full website...here! Shadow & Soul Photography. Also waiting on our friend Nick Miotke. (the same guy that created those Gilda's videos) HEY NICK!! And Glenn Corcoran who contributed photos last year. There are a lot out there!!

Bottom line, the show went GREAT! We raised a ton of money for Gilda's Club, way more than last year, but our final numbers aren’t in quite yet. The fashion show was out of this world, from what I could tell backstage/on stage. Again, looking forward to the video. And yes, yours truly did in fact get up on stage several times, once to make a speech, where I only stuttered one major time, and again for the fashion show (in a lovely black bra decorated with recycled pink beverage cans made by my sister, Robin). This one…

So, I know you all want numbers, and more pics, but as impatient as you are I assure you that I’m WAY more impatient! Trust me. When I have them, you will too. Swear. Pinky Swear.

Totally Music Thursdays

2010-09-23T08:24:00.000-04:00

There’s something about a chick with glasses….Sigh….Just sayin.

Totally Music Thursdays is back (sorry, minor derailment due to Bras for a Cause). And I’m back with Ingrid Michaelson. Why? Because she’s Ingrid. ‘nuff ced.

She’s considered an “indie-pop singer-songwriter”. Hmmmm… For my hard rock & metal friends, deal with the fact that she sings pop-like songs and just revel in her adorableness. The rest of you, well, just listen.

Her single “Be OK” was one of the original Stand Up to Cancer songs. Interesting when you put it into that perspective.

And there’s nothing like a sing along...

You and I
By Ingrid Michelson

Don't you worry there my honey
We might not have any money
But we've got our love to pay the bills

Maybe I think you're cute and funny
Maybe I wanna do what bunnies do with you if you know what I mean

Oh lets get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France
Lets get rich and give everybody nice sweaters and teach them how to dance
Lets get rich and build a house on a mountain making everybody look like ants
From way up there, you and I, you and I

Well you might be a bit confused
And you might be a little bit bruised
But baby how we spoon like no one else
So I will help you read those books
If you will soothe my worried looks
And we will put the lonesome on the shelf

Lets get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France
Lets get rich and give everybody nice sweaters and teach them how to dance
Lets get rich and build a house on a mountain making everybody look like ants
From way up there, you and I, you and I

God Angrily Clarifies 'Don't Kill Rule" (From The Onion)

2010-09-12T08:49:00.004-04:00

My friend, Nay, put this up on Facebook last night (yes, I'm one of those people), but instead of reposting there, I thought I'd throw it up on the 'ole blog. This ones for you SB...

REPRINTED FROM THE ONION:

NEW YORK—Responding to recent events on Earth, God, the omniscient creator-deity worshipped by billions of followers of various faiths for more than 6,000 years, angrily clarified His longtime stance against humans killing each other Monday.

"Look, I don't know, maybe I haven't made myself completely clear, so for the record, here it is again," said the Lord, His divine face betraying visible emotion during a press conference near the site of the fallen Twin Towers. "Somehow, people keep coming up with the idea that I want them to kill their neighbor. Well, I don't. And to be honest, I'm really getting sick and tired of it. Get it straight. Not only do I not want anybody to kill anyone, but I specifically commanded you not to, in really simple terms that anybody ought to be able to understand."

Worshipped by Christians, Jews, and Muslims alike, God said His name has been invoked countless times over the centuries as a reason to kill in what He called "an unending cycle of violence."

"I don't care how holy somebody claims to be," God said. "If a person tells you it's My will that they kill someone, they're wrong. Got it? I don't care what religion you are, or who you think your enemy is, here it is one more time: No killing, in My name or anyone else's, ever again."

The press conference came as a surprise to humankind, as God rarely intervenes in earthly affairs. As a matter of longstanding policy, He has traditionally left the task of interpreting His message and divine will to clerics, rabbis, priests, imams, and Biblical scholars. Theologians and laymen alike have been given the task of pondering His ineffable mysteries, deciding for themselves what to do as a matter of faith. His decision to manifest on the material plane was motivated by the deep sense of shock, outrage, and sorrow He felt over the Sept. 11 violence carried out in His name, and over its dire potential ramifications around the globe.

"I tried to put it in the simplest possible terms for you people, so you'd get it straight, because I thought it was pretty important," said God, called Yahweh and Allah respectively in the Judaic and Muslim traditions. "I guess I figured I'd left no real room for confusion after putting it in a four-word sentence with one-syllable words, on the tablets I gave to Moses. How much more clear can I get?"

"But somehow, it all gets twisted around and, next thing you know, somebody's spouting off some nonsense about, 'God says I have to kill this guy, God wants me to kill that guy, it's God's will,'" God continued. "It's not God's will, all right? News flash: 'God's will' equals 'Don't murder people.'"

Worse yet, many of the worst violators claim that their actions are justified by passages in the Bible, Torah, and Qur'an.

"To be honest, there's some contradictory stuff in there, okay?" God said. "So I can see how it could be pretty misleading. I admit it—My bad. I did My best to inspire them, but a lot of imperfect human agents have misinterpreted My message over the millennia. Frankly, much of the material that got in there is dogmatic, doctrinal bullshit. I turn My head for a second and, suddenly, all this stuff about homosexuality gets into Leviticus, and everybody thinks it's God's will to kill gays. It absolutely drives Me up the wall."

God praised the overwhelming majority of His Muslim followers as "wonderful, pious people," calling the perpetrators of the Sept. 11 attacks rare exceptions.

"This whole medieval concept of the jihad, or holy war, had all but vanished from the Muslim world in, like, the 10th century, and with good reason," God said. "There's no such thing as a holy war, only unholy ones. The vast majority of Muslims in this world reject the murderous actions of these radical extremists, just like the vast majority of Christians in America are pissed off over those two bigots on The 700 Club."

Continued God, "Read the book: 'Allah is kind, Allah is beautiful, Allah is merciful.' It goes on and on that way, page after page. But, no, some assholes have to come along and revive this stupid holy-war crap just to further their own hateful agenda. So now, everybody thinks Muslims are all murderous barbarians. Thanks, Taliban: 1,000 years of pan-Islamic cultural progress down the drain."

God stressed that His remarks were not directed exclusively at Islamic extremists, but rather at anyone whose ideological zealotry overrides his or her ability to comprehend the core message of all world religions.

"I don't care what faith you are, everybody's been making this same mistake since the dawn of time," God said. "The Muslims massacre the Hindus, the Hindus massacre the Muslims. The Buddhists, everybody massacres the Buddhists. The Jews, don't even get me started on the hardline, right-wing, Meir Kahane-loving Israeli nationalists, man. And the Christians? You people believe in a Messiah who says, 'Turn the other cheek,' but you've been killing everybody you can get your hands on since the Crusades."

Growing increasingly wrathful, God continued: "Can't you people see? What are you, morons? There are a ton of different religious traditions out there, and different cultures worship Me in different ways. But the basic message is always the same: Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, Shintoism... every religious belief system under the sun, they all say you're supposed to love your neighbors, folks! It's not that hard a concept to grasp."

"Why would you think I'd want anything else? Humans don't need religion or God as an excuse to kill each other—you've been doing that without any help from Me since you were freaking apes!" God said. "The whole point of believing in God is to have a higher standard of behavior. How obvious can you get?"

"I'm talking to all of you, here!" continued God, His voice rising to a shout. "Do you hear Me? I don't want you to kill anybody. I'm against it, across the board. How many times do I have to say it? Don't kill each other anymore—ever! I'm fucking serious!"

Upon completing His outburst, God fell silent, standing quietly at the podium for several moments. Then, witnesses reported, God's shoulders began to shake, and He wept.

And here's the full link, in case you wanna share:
"Don't kill each other anymore-ever! I'm fucking serious!"

Stand Up to Cancer...I'm Torn...

2010-09-11T19:34:00.001-04:00

I stayed up late last night watching Stand Up to Cancer, and now I’m paying for it with a migraine and a general feeling of “ick”. Plus, thoughts of the show, and feelings of frustration are meandering around in my head…that means its time to blog.

I am going to start out by saying that I am in NO WAY against cancer research, charities that fund cancer research, individuals/corporations that give to charities that fund cancer research, or cancer research telethons. I am simply going to state my feelings after watching the show…which at this point are quite mixed.

Stand Up to Cancer, on its face, is an amazing concept. The charity itself has raised an enormous amount for cancer research. Celebrities, musicians, television personalities, etc. come out of the woodwork for this show - and even Barack Obama had a videotaped message. People (whose faces you can pick out of a crowd, unlike mine) tell of the way cancer has touched them personally – which is really nice to see in a “they’re just like me sort of way.” I was especially moved by Christina Applegate (who I adore) and Michael C. Hall when they came out together for their 2-ish minutes to comment on their own cancer history. It was a short spot, but I loved it.

However, the majority of the show was…well…depressing. Other than seeing certain celebrities wearing shirts that said “Survivor”, it was pretty much filled with, and please excuse my candor, dead people. Now, I realize we’re talking about cancer here, and I realize it’s not exactly a happy-go-lucky, sunshiny subject. But really…does it have to be all doom and gloom?? I understand the way to get people to give money is to pull at their heart strings, to tell them that their loved ones are potentially going to get diagnosed and bite-it, but it seems like there’s got to be a better way.

No really, give me a few minutes…hear me out. WHY can’t we tell both sides?? You know…Make it personal? Thing is, they told both sad and happy stories last night on SU2C, but that’s not what you remember. You remember the sad stories. Why? Because of the way they were portrayed. Sad needs money to make it un-sad. Happy, well, it’s already happy…so nothing to fix. Over and over, statistic after statistic…doom, gloom…

(Granted, I really like this promo. Well done, yet true, and depressing as hell. However, it really needed something to counteract it.)

Honestly, I just kept screaming at my TV “I already beat those odds, and not in a good way…now what!!!” Seriously, when you think about it, there was a .05% chance that I was going to get breast cancer based on my “risk factors”. Well…WTF? And now you’re throwing all these other numbers in my face…where I have WAY higher odds that this could happen to me, and that could happen to me. Not to mention if "A" happens, then the odds of death are increased by "B"…SERIOUSLY!!! Let it the hell go!! Again, I understand why these numbers are important – your average person who has no history of cancer and/or no one close to them with a history of cancer may need the stats to see how common cancer has become. I DO IN FACT GET IT. But after you tell them this, let them know that after conventional and non-conventional treatment, person "A" beat the hell out of the cancer cells in her body and is THRIVING. TELL THEM THAT!!!

UGH.

So, in a nutshell, what was wrong last night you ask? I will tell you - we needed to meet more heroes. We needed to meet more fighters. We needed to meet more “real people”. Why can’t we see Lance Armstrong go for a bike ride with a group of cancer survivors? What about Sheryl Crow shopping for wigs with someone going through treatment for breast cancer? Maybe Michael C. Hall can sit down and have coffee with lymphoma patients? MAKE IT REAL. If you’re saying these celebrities are like us, then show it. Just the fact that they get cancer like we do doesn’t mean crapola. MAKE IT REAL. And show that cancer patients and survivors are real people, trying to do real “normal” things – trying to live their lives. Show that that’s all we really want to do…and THAT’S why we need a cure, that's why we need more research…to LIVE.

And when you have the celebrities read the true stories/letters in the first person of the survivors, have the survivors walk out in the end and, I don’t know, HUG the celebrities or something?? Wave, smile, shake their hand, do a drive-by? Dammit, do something! Seriously people. Am I the only one that thought – “wow, I wonder who that person really is? I would really like to see/meet them personally.” But no. Just Renee Zellweger, reading from some teleprompter. (granted, very emotional at times, but still…I want to see the great oz!!)

So, this is just my 2 cents. Perhaps the couple hours I watched wasn't long enough. Perhaps I’m a bit jaded on the subject, given my past history with cancer, and those around me who haven't fared so well with it recently. Who knows. I understand the need for research money, I'M ALL FOR RESEARCH. And I understand why this concept “gets the money in the bank”. But, personally, I would like to see a few more uplifting stories, too. They’re out there, and honestly, they’re not really that hard to find. Just don’t be so closed minded to think that people will only donate to cancer research out of fear. People will donate out of joy and inspiration too. And I promise, with a little effort, you can find that balance.

Totally Music Thursdays

2010-09-02T07:58:00.002-04:00

For those of you that have written off Rob Thomas or Matchbox Twenty as being “top 40” or “pop”, I beg of you, listen to the following. Seriously. I brought him back into my world of music when I heard him on Sirius Radio a couple of years ago on The Coffeehouse station. He does a lot of acoustic versions there. And…well…here you go. Did you know 3 AM was actually written about his mom...who had cancer?? I dare you not to get emotionally involved. Double dog dare in fact.

And as for Her Diamonds, he wrote that one about his wife who has been quite ill off and on for years, battling an autoimmune disease. Yeah, think about THAT when you listen…whole different perspective now, promise.

One of the good guys. And not so “pop-ish” anymore, eh? Told ya. Its amazing how a single song can have so many different meanings to so many different people. THAT'S a true artist.

Bras for a Cause Blog

2010-08-31T22:21:00.007-04:00

Yup. I've created a new blog. Not instead of Off the Soapbox...in addition to. You see, I've had all this stuff roaming around in my head about the show, and although some of it pertains specifically to me, much of it is just "stuff" I want to get out to the public...to lure them into being a part of the event. (muuuuwhahahahaha...) And yes, I'm calling it an "event", cuz by golly that's what it is!!!

So, my bloggy friends, check it out! (and, ahem, give us a follow if you like it!)
http://brasforacause.blogspot.com/

And if you're in the Detroit area (or will be visiting on or around September 18th), COME TO THE SHOW!! I would love love FRICKIN' LOVE to see you there!!!

Totally Music Thursdays

2010-08-26T08:52:00.002-04:00

A new feature here Off the Soapbox. On Thursdays, as I’m so inclined, I shall give you music that you may otherwise not know. I’ve tried to do this in the past, but haven’t quite followed up. (yeah…it happens, I drop the ball, deal.) I shall endeavor to do better. And just to make sure that you feel the need to watch the video at the bottom, here’s a portion of the lyrics: (don’t run from the folk…just don’t)

Beatomatic (a/k/a Batman)
By Bob Schneider

Well I'll tell you all a story that once happened to me
Me and little Robin we were just cruising down the street
We were in the Batmobile, and we had the lights turned low
We had a six pack of BatBeer on ice so we were good to go
With the radio blastin’ out our old theme song,

Robin kept on passin’ me that big ‘ole BatBong
I took a couple of hits, the next thing I know
A cop pulled us over to the side of the road
He said, “Hey, what’s your name, boy, you look like a slob”
I said, “I'm Batman, Officer, but you can call me Bob.”

And so…with that, the funk is over. I’m feeling much better thankyouverymuch. Many sorries for dumping on my virtual family. It doesn’t happen often that I get in a mood, but when I do, sometimes I need to vent.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming. Music fixes everything.

I picked up my mail early this morning, around 5am…for various reasons…and right there in my mailbox was The Ark newsletter. And Oh My Golly there were no less than 11 shows I would like to see over the next 2 months. 11 CONCERTS IN TWO MONTHS!!!! Even I don’t think I can accomplish that, nor do I think I can afford it. However, given that the shows are at The Ark, most of them are quite reasonably priced – ranging from $15-45. Still…choices must be made.

Since I’m quite sure you’re all curious who’s made the cut, tickets will be purchased when the box office opens at the Michigan Union for the following:

Toad the Wet Sprocket – September 16th
Bob Schneider – September 20th
Antje Duvekot / Lucy Wainwright Roche – October 6th
The Alternate Routes – October 21st

As of right now, Toad the Wet Sprocket might be in question. Tickets are even on the high side for this show, but I have to take the chance. How often do you get to see a band like this at The Ark?? Seriously?? But, I will to admit, making it to this show will be difficult with Bras for a Cause two days later. Still, I’m going to try. If you’d like to be in line for my tickets should I have to bail, let me know.

The following shows are on my “options” list. Not that I don’t want to see them, it’s just a financial and time issue. I mean, some of these are consecutive days and all. (in one week - 3 concerts!!) How many concerts can one attend in a single week? That remains to be seen.

Brandi Carlile – September 19th
Aimee Mann – September 21st
Griffin House – September 27th
John Primer – September 29th
Kim Richey – October 17th
Big Bad Voodoo Daddy – October 27th
The Verve Pipe – October 30th

So, do you live in the Detroit area? Do you frequent The Ark? If not, get your little be-hind over there and check out a show or two. Have a beer, eat a bit of popcorn, and hang out with the band/singer/songwriter when the show is over. It’s THE place to be.

Now…considering I’m a “single”, and I will be purchasing two tickets for each show…let’s do the math. Anyone up for a concert?

Bras for a Cause - Promo Video

2010-08-21T22:20:00.005-04:00

....and yes, I'm trying to get over the fact that right there is my face...looking not so lovely. Damn those YouTube stills.

Relationship Funk

2010-08-20T14:01:00.005-04:00

OK. Time to let it all out. I guess that’s what blogs are for, free therapy if you will.

I’m having difficulty writing this post without it sounding overly whiny (and on occasion bitchy) - you have been warned.

The past week or so has been pretty much a mess for me. The funk is back, and worse than ever. I’ve been basically on the verge of tears for no apparent reason. And since I can’t find a reason for my over-emotionalness, I’m extremely frustrated – which is even more upsetting. It’s a damn circle that I can’t seem to jump out of.

While editing a portion of the program for Bras for a Cause, something sort of struck me this morning. Paraphrasing, “the most important things in our lives are each other”. I didn’t write this, someone close to the show did. And yet, I think that key phrase explains why the funk came back. My people connections right now are completely fucked up. I have so many relationships at this point that are just “halfway there” - I can’t even count them. Even those that have been strong and stable over the years have become cloudy; overshadowed by lack of time, outside relationships, and the general feeling I get that I’m an intrusion or, at the very least, a second, third or fourth thought. I am assured over and over that this is not the case, but actions speak otherwise. I still have a few relationships out there that for the most part are a healthy combo of give and take and I’m clinging to those with dear life. The rest…well… And no, I’m not saying that I’m completely free of any wrong-doing in these failing or potentially failing relationships. What I am saying is that it’s difficult, makes me sad, and we should all be trying harder. And yes, I've also considered the fact that I'm the common denominator here - still, I think I have at least somewhat of a point to make.

That being said, perhaps I’m unrealistic. Perhaps I just need to let go and watch all these people who were once such a huge part of my life fade into the background. But I’m having SUCH a hard time with that concept. I understand that relationships change over the years – I’m not that naïve. Family members grow apart and come back together. Friends and ex’s get involved with others and have new interests. Heck, MY interests change fairly frequently – but my core is still there. I’m still ME. So why do the old relationships get left in the dust? Why don’t people make more of an effort to keep those that they care about, those they love, nearby?

I know I bring up both my Momma and Shannon often here on my blog, and there’s a reason for that. In having both of them in my life and eventually losing them, I’ve learned SO much. Although they were both very ill, they were able to cultivate the strongest, healthiest relationships that I have ever seen. They both knew what was important in life, and I don’t believe it was just because thoughts of mortality were swimming around in their heads every now and then. They looked at life differently, not through rose colored glasses, but rays of sunshine. They knew the reality of the world and of their situations, and spent every moment possible living, laughing and loving. The people around them meant EVERYTHING. They didn’t let material things, jobs, or external influences get in the way. They didn’t let one relationship (with people or things) spoil or replace another.

Why can’t others see this? Why can’t people realize that life can be short? It shouldn’t take a goddam cancer diagnosis to wake you up. A good, strong, balanced relationship is everything. Yes, being comfortable with yourself and the ability to be alone is important. But once you’re happy in your own skin, build those relationships up and don’t let them fall. Unless you are a true to life hermit – which I assume you’re not since you’re reading this blog – the daily interactions are what makes life so beautiful. That’s not to say there’s not a place for animals, nature, etc. I’m just saying that human interaction, when it’s a two-way street, can seriously enhance your life.

I’ve said it before and I’m going to say it again, the world is a very precarious place to live. Truly living is an ongoing process. We are always learning, always changing. Change is good. However, hold true to your roots. Don’t put your eggs into the wrong basket or you may end up losing those eggs when the basket breaks, or gets picked up by someone else. Take a good look at yourself. Drop the selfish bull-crap, actually think before you act or speak, realize how your actions might affect others, and make an effort. Chances are, when you make that effort and think of others, you will probably get the same in return. Do that now, because the longer you wait, the further away those relationships creep. And making the effort once the relationship is over doesn’t have quite the same effect.

I have no idea where I’m going to be tomorrow, next week, next year, or even decades from now. My goal is to be happy, healthy, and surrounded by those I love. I’m not going to give up on that goal, even on days like today when I’m not so sure my goal coincides with everyone I’d like to keep close in my life. It seems like I often help to teach others how to be in a happy, healthy relationship - and as a result my relationship with them gets left behind. Bitter? Maybe a tad. More sad I suppose – sad that I couldn’t help to teach them how to be in a happy, healthy relationship with me. But from a non-selfish standpoint, maybe that’s my lot in life? More of a teacher? Positive spins can change everything.

I am trying here. I truly am. I'm doing my best to be my usual optimistic self. We all have crappy times, and I guess this is just my week. I already feel a little crappy for making you all read this incredibly depressing, long post. Regardless, whether I want to ignore them or not, the feelings are there and I need to try and do something about it. So what do I do? I babble out into the universe - or the blogoverse - whatever the case may be. And maybe, just maybe, something will change...even if it's just my own attitude.

And so, I urge you to think about those you love and your current (and past) relationships. Where do you want to be years down the road – and what do you want those relationships to look like? Effort is key. Make it early and often. And I shall do the same.

Insurance Peddling Ducks

2010-08-17T04:14:00.005-04:00

It’s 3-something am and I’m awake. Definitely not the norm for me. I’m having one of those nights where my brain is spinning on into infinity. I just can’t seem to stop the madness!! But really, there’s just a lot going on in my life right now – with my kids, relationships, work and Bras for a Cause – I hardly have time to breathe and take stock, if you will. And now that I’ve accepted and welcomed the stalking chickens, a duck has recently moved in to haunt me.

This is no ordinary duck - it’s the Aflac duck. My employer has recently made available to the office the ability to purchase Aflac insurance. For those of you who don’t know exactly what Aflac does, they basically pay you extra moolah when you or someone in your family gets sick. It’s a sort of laundry list of items and pay-outs. Travel in an ambulance = $100. Ambulance by air = $1000. Stuck in the hospital = $50/day. And so on. They pay you for testing (x-rays, CT scans and the like), and they pay your family for having to stay in a hotel to visit when you get sick out of town. It’s a huge list actually, and a fairly complicated pay-out schedule. This is all regardless of whether you have health insurance or not, and they don’t care whether or not the health insurance that you may have pays for anything. It’s extra money, all for you.

We have 3 different options to choose from: Accident, illness and cancer insurance. I’m quite sure you can figure them out. Thing is, had I had this “insurance” before I was diagnosed, I would have seriously made out in the cancer insurance arena. Probably over $100,000 in “we’re so sorry you might die…here, have some money to drown your sorrows” cold hard cash. The theory is that you need extra money to help pay for things when you or someone close to you is ill. Agreed. It would have been nice to supplement the days off that I had to take which completely depleted my leave bank, or maybe take an extra day or two off even though I wasn’t getting paid, and to have funds to help pay for prescription co-pays, scarves, smaller clothes when I lost weight, etc. And so, even now that I’m fine as fine can be, I was thinking maybe it would be a good idea to grab onto this cancer insurance, since I’m healthy and all, and because you never know – considering I already got diagnosed with cancer in the first place against all odds. But, I can’t.

I can purchase both the accident and illness insurances without a problem. About $30 bi-weekly. But because I was previously diagnosed with cancer, I’m out in that respect. YAY!! I get to save $15 every two weeks!! Boo-yah!!! Kinda… Oh, they’ll let me get it eventually, but not until I’ve been “out of treatment for 5 years” and “off any hormonal therapy for 12 months”. What does this mean? Doing the math, that’s 6 years from when I stopped radiation – April 17, 2009. That seems like an absurd amount of time to wait when everyone around me is telling me I’m cancer free and there’s pretty much no chance it will return – and I’m believing them.

My two year DOD anniversary actually came a went a few days ago. Happy anniversary to me!!!! And by golly I'm still frickin' here.

I suppose if I actually think about it, the 5 years does somewhat make sense. You always hear that you’re not officially “cured” until you hit that 5 year post-cancer mark. Unfortunately, until the damn duck quacked into my life, I was going about my world thinking I was cured right now. I was living and breathing and pretty darn sure that I wasn’t going to get sick again. And, quite honestly, I’m VERY frustrated at myself for I’m letting a stupid insurance company, a representative that isn’t exactly the most knowledgeable and a quacking mascot to throw me off my game. But they all have. As my friend Ann would say, my world has been rocked.

My initial thought was to tell them to eat it, because if I can’t get the one I want for 5 more frickin’ years, who needs ‘em. But then I was told that I can use the illness insurance if I happen to get re-diagnosed…as long as the policy has been in force for 6 months. Again with the negativity!! Can’t I get notes from my doctors saying that all my tests show that I’m completely healthy? Can’t they talk to my doctors who have been telling me that nothing is going to happen, I’m cured, and to move on? The doctors are telling me this, people that actually KNOW me and have read my file – why can’t an insurance company believe them? What do they know (or think they know) that my doctors and I don't??

I realize insurance companies are in existence to make money. I get it. I live in capitalist America dammit. I just didn’t realize I was that much of a risk. Seriously. What the crap?

And so, the bottom line is Mr. Dorian from Aflac is seriously climbing up my rear trying to get me to sign up for the two remaining policies. Sales guys can drive me insane sometimes. And as I said before, all this is rocking my world right when it’s already spinning in controlled chaos. I just can’t figure out whether I’m leaning towards saying no because I don’t think it’s a good purchase, or if it’s just for spite. Regardless, I’ve got other more pressing things on my plate.

I guess after writing all this, I’m thinking I’m going to wait out the duck for a while. He will be back at the end of the year for open enrollment – I can always sign up then. Granted, I’ve just lost 4 months in my 6 month pre-existing condition waiting period, but I’m not good at making decisions just to make them. And I don’t like the idea that there are people out there, even if they don’t know me from the next one-page application that crosses their desk, who think that I’m at a high risk for cancer insurance.

Whether the 5 year thing is a reality or not, I can’t allow myself to live by it. Walking around paranoid, waiting for the shoe to drop, just isn’t me anymore. I’m fine as fine can be, remember? And I don’t think I’m ready to introduce a duck into the zoo that can currently be called my life.

Old Crow Medicine Show

2010-08-16T15:48:00.002-04:00

Got a new iPod, actually an iPod Touch. Point is, my other ipod was such a mess that it just plain ‘old croaked. So, I’m re-loading FROM SCRATCHOLA everything onto this one – 64GB!! Anyways, digging through the old CDs and nearly forgot about these guys.

Folk on the fun side. Normally I’m damn picky about my covers, and I do dig Dylan - but I wouldn't really call this an official "cover". From what I can tell, they pretty much just had a chorus to go from and did the rest on their own. So, more "influenced" by the Dylan song? That's probably more accurate. Regardless, the Old Crow version is just more…me. And Pine Knob still plays this song when you're sitting on the lawn waiting for the show to start. By golly I love it.

Help!! The Chickens are Stalking, The Chickens are Stalking!!

2010-08-08T22:14:00.006-04:00

Well, the chickens have returned. And yes, that picture above would be the ACTUAL 5 chickens living on my street. They weren’t in my yard this time, but were across the street from my house. Again, I’d like to point out that I live in suburbia – not the country. I find it interesting that there are a gaggle of chickens basically stalking me…it’s almost comical. You would think the universe would send something a little less obvious my way, but nope.

The universe sent chickens.

And, every time I see those damn things, first thing I do is count them. Of course, I’m only counting them to make sure that none of them are hurt or injured, because you know I’d leap into action if that was in fact the case. Yup. That’s why I’m counting.

Regardless…Today’s Count = 5 chickens, and one “un-date” this coming up Friday with the same person I mentioned in my prior chicken post. Uh-huh. I hear you universe. And yet I trudge on.

Something that comes to mind from my somewhat younger days: "Always make a left when descending into Hell." Cautiously optimistic. Friendships are good.

And now I shall quote one of my favorite songs that pretty much NO ONE knows. And big points if you can name that tune…

“I give ‘em all three goddamns. Goddamn. Goddamn. Goddamn.”