I wonder who in the history of our language decided that the female version of a hero should be a heroine? That is the name of a drug. Why would a heroic action performed by a female be called the name of a drug?
Actually if you look at the work HERO you can see evidence that the word itself referred to heroic females. HER O...spoken in the inflection Her OOOOOOHHHH!
Hero and Shero seem like a better choice to me. I would never wish to be called the name of drug for performing acts of service. I've heard people use the term hero for both male and female. I believe that makes some sense. If you need to be reminded, check the paragraph above.
This last week our youngest daughter had "Hero Day," at the school where she teaches 5th grade. It made me think about the heros, and sheros of my life. I have so very many, grandparents, parents, my beloved husband, but especially our two daughters.
When Nyle died, his income died with him. That left me attempting to pay all of our bills on my Social Security Disability Income. That teeny amount did not even begin to pay the monthly bills.
Our youngest daughter worked at a part-time job that she really did not enjoy. It earned money. So she stuck with it.
Not long after our oldest daughter got a job. They both stuck by me as we attempted to find a "New normal." I moved, and then we got smart and realized that having all three of us share the expenses of a home made the most sense.
That is not all our girls do. They watch over me and my physical challenges with great love and patience. They pay the bills and keep an eye on expenses. They cook and shop. They make me laugh. They are patient with me when I chatter like a magpie.
Our girls are one of the very greatest blessings in my life. They ARE my SHEROES! I want them to know that I recognize this about them!
Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass....it's about learning to dance in the rain!
Friday, September 18, 2015
Happy Birthday to Ardis the Great(est) Daughter!!
The doctor said, "It's a girl!" Nyle said, "How can you tell? All you can see is the babies head?"
The doctor said, "This baby has very feminine features. "I'm almost always right! about gender!"
Sure enough the baby DID have feminine features. She was beautiful from the first moment she drew air. Her hair was thick and black. Her eyes were a deep sky blue. I was ever so excited about her eyes. I thought she would have eyes the color of her Father's. I was a bit disappointed when her blue eyes turned golden brown. The disappointment didn't last. She has the same golden-brown eyes as MY Father.
Any place that we took baby Ardis she drew attention. People raved and ranted over her lovely features, and her amazing hair. We were surprised and amused at how many people told us that her hair WOULD fall out, and then grow back in. I imagine they were trying to be kind in warning us. Ardis' hair NEVER fell out. It just got longer, and longer. It was to her waist by the time she was three years old.
Ardis was a very easy baby. If she fussed you KNEW that something was wrong. For example, one night she cried, cried, and cried. We took her to the ER about 3 a.m. They discovered that she had a terrible ear infection.
From the first, Ardis was always good at self-comforting. Feed her, change her, give her a playpen, toys, and she would be happy for hours.
When I was pregnant with Ardis her Papa listened to some pretty rowdy music as "white noise." He was a very light sleeper but the music seemed to help him relax.
It had the opposite affect on me. I wanted to get up and dance to the music. After he went to sleep I would turn off the music and I would go to sleep.
When Ardis was about a month old I was trying to rock her to sleep one night. She could not seem to calm herself and go to sleep. She wasn't fussy, but she wasn't sleepy either. I put on some calm Barry Manilow music. That seemed to make her fussier.
Then I thought about Nyle's crazy bedtime music. I put on one of his cassettes and she was asleep in minutes. I do think that she eventually grew out of listening to loud music at bedtime, thank goodness.
Today is the 29th anniversary of Ardis' birth. I don't believe that we had any concept of the great things that she would accomplish. She was Valedictorian of the History Department at Brigham Young University. She went to London Study Abroad as part of her undergraduate work, and then also attended a term at Cambridge as part of a student transfer program. She then earned her Master's at Cambridge University.
Ardis volunteered with the Model United Nations program at BYU, and then at a National Level. She has helped teach students from all around the world about the Democratic Process of the United Nations. In this work she has elevated the lives of hundreds of young people.
Ardis has always been a deeply loving daughter. As parents we have always been hugely blessed by Ardis. She has helped us to reach higher in life, and to reach out more to others with love. Thanks RDK for being such an amazing human being. We love you!
The doctor said, "This baby has very feminine features. "I'm almost always right! about gender!"
Sure enough the baby DID have feminine features. She was beautiful from the first moment she drew air. Her hair was thick and black. Her eyes were a deep sky blue. I was ever so excited about her eyes. I thought she would have eyes the color of her Father's. I was a bit disappointed when her blue eyes turned golden brown. The disappointment didn't last. She has the same golden-brown eyes as MY Father.
Any place that we took baby Ardis she drew attention. People raved and ranted over her lovely features, and her amazing hair. We were surprised and amused at how many people told us that her hair WOULD fall out, and then grow back in. I imagine they were trying to be kind in warning us. Ardis' hair NEVER fell out. It just got longer, and longer. It was to her waist by the time she was three years old.
Ardis was a very easy baby. If she fussed you KNEW that something was wrong. For example, one night she cried, cried, and cried. We took her to the ER about 3 a.m. They discovered that she had a terrible ear infection.
From the first, Ardis was always good at self-comforting. Feed her, change her, give her a playpen, toys, and she would be happy for hours.
When I was pregnant with Ardis her Papa listened to some pretty rowdy music as "white noise." He was a very light sleeper but the music seemed to help him relax.
It had the opposite affect on me. I wanted to get up and dance to the music. After he went to sleep I would turn off the music and I would go to sleep.
When Ardis was about a month old I was trying to rock her to sleep one night. She could not seem to calm herself and go to sleep. She wasn't fussy, but she wasn't sleepy either. I put on some calm Barry Manilow music. That seemed to make her fussier.
Then I thought about Nyle's crazy bedtime music. I put on one of his cassettes and she was asleep in minutes. I do think that she eventually grew out of listening to loud music at bedtime, thank goodness.
Today is the 29th anniversary of Ardis' birth. I don't believe that we had any concept of the great things that she would accomplish. She was Valedictorian of the History Department at Brigham Young University. She went to London Study Abroad as part of her undergraduate work, and then also attended a term at Cambridge as part of a student transfer program. She then earned her Master's at Cambridge University.
Ardis volunteered with the Model United Nations program at BYU, and then at a National Level. She has helped teach students from all around the world about the Democratic Process of the United Nations. In this work she has elevated the lives of hundreds of young people.
Ardis has always been a deeply loving daughter. As parents we have always been hugely blessed by Ardis. She has helped us to reach higher in life, and to reach out more to others with love. Thanks RDK for being such an amazing human being. We love you!
Tuesday, August 4, 2015
The Sun is Shining
It always amazes me how good it makes me feel to open my eyes and see sunshine. Living in a desert climate I'm grateful for the brilliant light that we are graced with.
I lived in the Northwest for almost 20 years. I tried to learn to love the shade and shadow as the natives did. It never really happened. There was one winter with ninety days in a row that the sun NEVER showed up! People were so cranky! It wasn't the rain that made me grumpy...it was the GRAY!
I find that this weather discussion is an excellent analogy for living. How many times do we wake up to find difficulty facing us? Many times we wake up to gray days or rainy days (symbolically). A teen has started experimenting with drugs, your husband is addicted to pornography, or you're going through postpartum depression. There are ever so many problems that can arise in life.
In Portland when the sun refused its warming light my husband put in broad spectrum lights throughout our house. There was a lamp that you could buy that was supposed to mimic the effect of sunlight. There were gadgets and gizmos aplenty.
One of the most important lessons that I have learned about life is that rough times come BUT THEY ALSO GO! Yesterday I was in horrible, all encompassing pain. I have several medical conditions that cause pain. Usually I can keep the pain at a manageable level but that huge change in barometric pressure seems to make pain encompass me at the cellular level.
Then the very next day, today, I awakened to the shining sun. I moved out of bed, took the animals outside, started to check Facebook and realized, "That horrible pain is gone!" HOORAY! I did a happy dance. (It's a good thing that I was inside at that point).
I never would request the pain filled days, or the challenge laden days. A friend recently said to me, "I would like a little boredom, just for awhile." I can concur with that assessment if that means that my pain is limited, and I feel well enough to conquer the necessities of the day.
At the same time, I would not give away the lessons learned about empathy, strength, and thriving through those hard times, those days when I struggle to even have the sunshine in my soul. This is one of the paradoxes of life. To truly understand happiness you need to face sadness. Joy is more fully felt after sorrow. There is a reason for the word bittersweet.
Sometimes it feels as though there is no break between hard, challenging thing in life. At that point you must create that break! My husband was in the hospital at one point for six weeks. I was there with him throughout. One bleak night I knew that I had to do something to shore up my sagging spirits.
I imagined that Nyle and I were on a cruise (one of our favorite activities), and I was going to another deck to get a late night snack. I went to the cafe and bought myself a luscious shake. I sat and reviewed all the joyous memories of our cruising days. One of my favorite was snorkeling with my honey. We held hands and swam with our faces inside the water. We saw coral reef, and magically bright colored fish. It was ever so romantic to be linked by our hands while we shared this majestic beauty.
When I returned to the reality of Nyle in the hospital I felt renewed. I could see that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Before my little break I felt like there was only another tunnel at the end of the tunnel!
Today, I WILL accomplish necessary beads on a string with no knot on the end types of chores, but I will also dance and sing. The sun is brilliant. Beads of rainy droplets shine on the grass like thousands of diamonds. The birds are joyously enjoying the suns return. I think I'll join those lovely birdies and sing to the sunshine!
I lived in the Northwest for almost 20 years. I tried to learn to love the shade and shadow as the natives did. It never really happened. There was one winter with ninety days in a row that the sun NEVER showed up! People were so cranky! It wasn't the rain that made me grumpy...it was the GRAY!
I find that this weather discussion is an excellent analogy for living. How many times do we wake up to find difficulty facing us? Many times we wake up to gray days or rainy days (symbolically). A teen has started experimenting with drugs, your husband is addicted to pornography, or you're going through postpartum depression. There are ever so many problems that can arise in life.
In Portland when the sun refused its warming light my husband put in broad spectrum lights throughout our house. There was a lamp that you could buy that was supposed to mimic the effect of sunlight. There were gadgets and gizmos aplenty.
One of the most important lessons that I have learned about life is that rough times come BUT THEY ALSO GO! Yesterday I was in horrible, all encompassing pain. I have several medical conditions that cause pain. Usually I can keep the pain at a manageable level but that huge change in barometric pressure seems to make pain encompass me at the cellular level.
Then the very next day, today, I awakened to the shining sun. I moved out of bed, took the animals outside, started to check Facebook and realized, "That horrible pain is gone!" HOORAY! I did a happy dance. (It's a good thing that I was inside at that point).
I never would request the pain filled days, or the challenge laden days. A friend recently said to me, "I would like a little boredom, just for awhile." I can concur with that assessment if that means that my pain is limited, and I feel well enough to conquer the necessities of the day.
At the same time, I would not give away the lessons learned about empathy, strength, and thriving through those hard times, those days when I struggle to even have the sunshine in my soul. This is one of the paradoxes of life. To truly understand happiness you need to face sadness. Joy is more fully felt after sorrow. There is a reason for the word bittersweet.
Sometimes it feels as though there is no break between hard, challenging thing in life. At that point you must create that break! My husband was in the hospital at one point for six weeks. I was there with him throughout. One bleak night I knew that I had to do something to shore up my sagging spirits.
I imagined that Nyle and I were on a cruise (one of our favorite activities), and I was going to another deck to get a late night snack. I went to the cafe and bought myself a luscious shake. I sat and reviewed all the joyous memories of our cruising days. One of my favorite was snorkeling with my honey. We held hands and swam with our faces inside the water. We saw coral reef, and magically bright colored fish. It was ever so romantic to be linked by our hands while we shared this majestic beauty.
When I returned to the reality of Nyle in the hospital I felt renewed. I could see that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Before my little break I felt like there was only another tunnel at the end of the tunnel!
Today, I WILL accomplish necessary beads on a string with no knot on the end types of chores, but I will also dance and sing. The sun is brilliant. Beads of rainy droplets shine on the grass like thousands of diamonds. The birds are joyously enjoying the suns return. I think I'll join those lovely birdies and sing to the sunshine!
Saturday, August 1, 2015
Thrive, Don't Just Survive
In difficult times there is no shame in just surviving. In fact, I agree with the song, "I'm a survivor, I'm gonna make it..." In my mind Surviving means to cling with all the tenacity you possess, starting to slide, fingernails digging into whatever you can reach, the branch on the edge of the cliff you're sliding into, the tiny crack in the bricks of the skyscraper where an earthquake threw you. (The examples, of course, are figurative.) To be literal, let me use these examples. Your spouse is dying, your finances are a total snarly mess, your kids are quarreling all the time because of the stress caused by your spouse dying, or you are dying, or your child is dying, or you all are dying! In these situations surviving may be the very best that you can do.
On the other hand, I wish to suggest a better way. Is it possible to THRIVE in the midst of gut clenching, earth shaking challenge? My answer would be yes, well not only yes but ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY YES!
Do you need to be delusional to THRIVE in such a horrific time of challenge? I think it's more of a delusion to let crisis and terror take any and all joy out of your life. Oh I'm not suggesting that you think, "Somebody I love is dying? I'm so HAPPY!" That is called psychosis, or a total disconnect from reality.
There is a darling movie out right now called "Inside Out." I love this movie. It speaks to how our brains work. It even suggests that emotions we consider, negative, can achieve a positive result. For example, again, your spouse or family member is dying...OF COURSE YOU FEEL SAD! There is a quote that says, "Sorrow is the price for great love." Is it possible to use this sorrow to thrive? Yes. Is it easy? NOT EVEN CLOSE.
The older I get, the more I realize that the things that have mattered the most in my life, family, faith, friends, have NOT been easy. They have been richly rewarding. Indeed, I think that the things that matter the most in our lives do NOT come easily. This process of experiencing pain, sorrow, disgust, fear, has precious lessons to teach us. The kindest, most loving people that I have ever met have faced some of the hardest challenges that life can offer.
One example was my beloved friend that had a son die in a robbery. He was one of the robbers. To have a beloved child die while causing great suffering to others? I don't think anyone would disagree that this would be an enormous weight of sorrow pressing you down into the ground.
She used her sorrow to drive her to be more compassionate. I was one of the grateful recipients of her loving and giving, In other words, she thrived in spite of this horrific experience.
I wish to suggest a few methods that have helped me to THRIVE when SURVIVING seemed my only option.
1. Prayer or meditation. However you perceive God, or whatever name you use to address Him or Her, science has shown a significant positive power in the use of prayer. If you don't believe in God slow down and meditate. Whatever method works for you, quiet your mind. Do this as often as your sorrow threatens to suck you into a giant vacuum of grief and pain.
2. Reach out! Getting professional help can be extremely beneficial in times of extreme challenge. Sometimes you have to shop around to find the right "fit," for this clinician. For example, one therapist actually said to me in a time of huge crisis, "I don't have anything to help you. You are welcome to come and cry if that helps." REALLY? REALLY? I'm going to pay money to come and feel worse when I leave? Wrong fit.
3. FAMILY/FRIENDS are usually wonderful sources of love and support. They can't read your mind so call them when you need them!
4. Read only uplifting material. Watch only uplifting material on the TV or computer. It's no secret that connecting with upbeat positive ideas can lift your soul...ESPECIALLY in the hardest times of life.
5. At least daily but more if needed do powerful visualizations. Example? Imagine an enormous sink. Now go through your problems one at a time. Take each problem, one by one, and put it in the enormous sink. Now you will turn on the water and watch all those problems, those struggles wash down, down, down, the sink and disappear down the drain.
6. Throw a potluck party. Invite all your family/friends to come. It can be a theme party where everyone comes dressed like their favorite movie/book character. Parties are excellent ways of connecting and celebrating the best in life when the worst in life is walking with you.
6. Serve others! There are as many ways of reaching out to others as there are people. Volunteer at a soup kitchen, non-profit organization, your church, a foodbank...the list goes on and on. It's amazing how your problems seem lighter when serving others.
As usual my post has helped ME tremendously. I hope that it can help someone, somewhere out in the blogosphere. Remember, none of us needs to be alone! One of the best things to understand in this life is, troubles come, but they also go! Cling to the reality of this idea. Problems will come but you can do more than just survive them. You can thrive in spite of them!
On the other hand, I wish to suggest a better way. Is it possible to THRIVE in the midst of gut clenching, earth shaking challenge? My answer would be yes, well not only yes but ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY YES!
Do you need to be delusional to THRIVE in such a horrific time of challenge? I think it's more of a delusion to let crisis and terror take any and all joy out of your life. Oh I'm not suggesting that you think, "Somebody I love is dying? I'm so HAPPY!" That is called psychosis, or a total disconnect from reality.
There is a darling movie out right now called "Inside Out." I love this movie. It speaks to how our brains work. It even suggests that emotions we consider, negative, can achieve a positive result. For example, again, your spouse or family member is dying...OF COURSE YOU FEEL SAD! There is a quote that says, "Sorrow is the price for great love." Is it possible to use this sorrow to thrive? Yes. Is it easy? NOT EVEN CLOSE.
The older I get, the more I realize that the things that have mattered the most in my life, family, faith, friends, have NOT been easy. They have been richly rewarding. Indeed, I think that the things that matter the most in our lives do NOT come easily. This process of experiencing pain, sorrow, disgust, fear, has precious lessons to teach us. The kindest, most loving people that I have ever met have faced some of the hardest challenges that life can offer.
One example was my beloved friend that had a son die in a robbery. He was one of the robbers. To have a beloved child die while causing great suffering to others? I don't think anyone would disagree that this would be an enormous weight of sorrow pressing you down into the ground.
She used her sorrow to drive her to be more compassionate. I was one of the grateful recipients of her loving and giving, In other words, she thrived in spite of this horrific experience.
I wish to suggest a few methods that have helped me to THRIVE when SURVIVING seemed my only option.
1. Prayer or meditation. However you perceive God, or whatever name you use to address Him or Her, science has shown a significant positive power in the use of prayer. If you don't believe in God slow down and meditate. Whatever method works for you, quiet your mind. Do this as often as your sorrow threatens to suck you into a giant vacuum of grief and pain.
2. Reach out! Getting professional help can be extremely beneficial in times of extreme challenge. Sometimes you have to shop around to find the right "fit," for this clinician. For example, one therapist actually said to me in a time of huge crisis, "I don't have anything to help you. You are welcome to come and cry if that helps." REALLY? REALLY? I'm going to pay money to come and feel worse when I leave? Wrong fit.
3. FAMILY/FRIENDS are usually wonderful sources of love and support. They can't read your mind so call them when you need them!
4. Read only uplifting material. Watch only uplifting material on the TV or computer. It's no secret that connecting with upbeat positive ideas can lift your soul...ESPECIALLY in the hardest times of life.
5. At least daily but more if needed do powerful visualizations. Example? Imagine an enormous sink. Now go through your problems one at a time. Take each problem, one by one, and put it in the enormous sink. Now you will turn on the water and watch all those problems, those struggles wash down, down, down, the sink and disappear down the drain.
6. Throw a potluck party. Invite all your family/friends to come. It can be a theme party where everyone comes dressed like their favorite movie/book character. Parties are excellent ways of connecting and celebrating the best in life when the worst in life is walking with you.
6. Serve others! There are as many ways of reaching out to others as there are people. Volunteer at a soup kitchen, non-profit organization, your church, a foodbank...the list goes on and on. It's amazing how your problems seem lighter when serving others.
As usual my post has helped ME tremendously. I hope that it can help someone, somewhere out in the blogosphere. Remember, none of us needs to be alone! One of the best things to understand in this life is, troubles come, but they also go! Cling to the reality of this idea. Problems will come but you can do more than just survive them. You can thrive in spite of them!
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Flowers to my Mama
I served an LDS mission. My 2nd Mission President, Monte Brough, was a wonderful man. (So was my first but this story is not about him). I had the privilege of serving as his secretary when he first arrived. He had a habit that I thought was marvelous. Every year on his birthday he would send his Mother flowers to thank her for giving him life, and then teaching him how to live it.
From that time forward, no matter how far away I was from Mama I would arrange some how, some way, to send her flowers. Sometimes it was by the hand of a dear friend that lived close to her, sometimes it was when we lived in the same town. It was ever so important to me that every single year I gave her flowers on MY birthday.
Mama was one of the most remarkable women I have ever met. After she lost a precious baby, (she was in labor for 24 hours, and the cord was wrapped around his neck) she went into shock. She was told that she must never again have a child. The traumatic birth left her with all types of health issues. She was also told that she could never even get pregnant.
Imagine her surprise, and delight when four years later she discovered that she was pregnant. That was me, her 8th pregnancy, and 3rd child to live. I was born a bonny, bouncing, baby at 8 pounds.
When it was time for my delivery, her doctor was stuck in snarling LA traffic. So she was delivered by two residents who were total strangers to her. The doctor arrived simultaneously with me. Standing in the back of the delivery room (he hadn't time to prepare to assist) he announced, "I want everyone here to understand that this is a miracle. Birth is always a miracle but this birth is many types of miracles. Sarah was sterile, unable to conceive. When we discovered that she was pregnant that was miracle enough. Sarah could not carry a child. She had too many health problems to carry a pregnancy to full-term. She could certainly never deliver a child safely. Yet here is this beautiful baby. These events are all miracles!"
Mama often reminded me that I was a miracle baby. It gave me a strong sense of identity and worth from my earliest memories. (On the other hand, my daughters may have gotten a little tired of the story when they could quote it word for word from memory).
Mama and Papa brought me home to my two adoring siblings, 10 years, and 6 years old. All was blissful until...one night I began to "bark like a dog," as my Mother colorfully described. She called a doctor and asked for advice. He said that I probably had the croup. She held the phone up to my mouth and said, "Does this sound like croup?" I was not only croup coughing, but wheezing like crazy.
Mama, and Papa went to the doctor's office with me. They discovered to their horror that I had virtually no immune system. I was also severely allergic to pretty much every item of earth life, from food, to plants, and lets not even get started on the pollution in the 1950's worsening air in California.
On another visit the doctor wrapped me up in a blanket and I started to turn blue. He quickly released me and said, "If you put her down to sleep in a crib she could suffocate in minutes. You must hold her round the clock."
Fortunately, our church group was very loving and supportive. Volunteers came to take turns holding me so that Mama and Papa could get some much needed rest. I can't remember those tender times.
Back to Mama. Can you imagine the stress and worry of having a severely medically fragile child? The Mayo brothers came to Los Angeles and Mama and Papa took me to them. They tested me for a long, long time. Finally they called Mama and Papa in and said, "Your daughter is the most highly allergic child that we have ever seen." They gave my parents a three page, single spaced, list of must dos and must do nots. Little things like running the vacuum three times a day throughout the house. Keeping me away from all animals, and the list went on and on and on.
Mama said of that time, "We lived in prayer. We never knew when you would have your next attack or if you would survive the next attack!"
This was the late 1950's. There was only two treatments for asthma. One was oxygen. The other one was a painful pounding on my back to loosen the mucus secretions that my body insisted on making thicker than necessary.
I grew up hearing the story of irritation, inflammation, and infection. My body would become irritated or inflamed due to allergy, this would lead to infection, which would worsen the irritation and inflammation and around and around I went.
Papa was working full-time during all of this. He often would need to give me a blessing or run me to the hospital in the middle of the night. Mama was doing her best to raise her other two lovely children, and keep a house.
Mama was ferociously independent. The idea of constantly receiving help from others was just not acceptable to Mama. One of her church friends said, "That's right Sarah. You just keep insisting on keeping all the blessings to yourself. You and I know that you can't serve without receiving blessings. So you won't let me serve, and you keep all those lovely blessings to yourself!" Mama let Mary help.
Mama and Papa would often drop everything and we would drive to Mt. Baldy. My Brother and Sister also had to drop everything and come with us. As we would rise above the pollution my asthma attack would lessen and finally subside.
I also remember being carried to our neighbors. Mr. Bench had emphysema and they had an oxygen tank in the house. Lovingly the Bench's had offered me use of their tank. Oxygen was very expensive to have at home. My parents couldn't afford it. Going to the Bench's was quicker, and there was no Emergency Room expense.
Think for a moment what it would be like to live this way, day in and day out. You never know when your precious child might die suddenly. You are constantly guarding this child from illness and yet attempting to give the child as normal a life as possible.
Doctor's told my parents that it would be quite likely that I would not live to be two years old. One day after a hospitalization, a resident came up to my Mama and said, "Mrs. Cheney, if you do not get this child out of Western Medicine, she will simply not survive." He then added, "If you tell anyone that I said this I will deny it." It took courage for him to make such a radical suggestion.
Mama listened and off we went. I think we went almost from A to Z of what alternative medicines were available at the time. Allergists (non Western allergists), Chiropractors, Dietitians, Herbologists, and Naturopaths, Some helped a great deal, others made things worse, and some did nothing at all.
Through all of it, Mama was endlessly optimistic to me. She never complained about all the stress I brought into her life. I was a MIRACLE! What an enormous blessing it was and is to a child with such significant health challenges to have such a CHAMPION for a Mother, never giving up, always looking for ways and means to improve my life.
She kept watching out and over for me for the rest of her life. I can only imagine how hard it was for her to let me go...leave the nest...and trust in my own ability to manage my health. I know that her faith was not an inactive belief. Mama's faith was an enormous power.
Mama passed away at the age of 95. I will do my best for the rest of my life to send her flowers on my birthday I thought of delivering them to her grave but decided against it because her soul is not there! The soul of my Mother is just as busy and loving on the other side of the veil as it was here. I know that she is still lovingly watching over me. So, I will find ways and means to celebrate Mama, to bring her flowers for as long as I live.
I love you Mama...beyond death. I cherish your influence in my entire life. I'm so grateful that I got to keep you for 57 years! I never want you to forget how grateful I am for all of your sacrifice and love.
From that time forward, no matter how far away I was from Mama I would arrange some how, some way, to send her flowers. Sometimes it was by the hand of a dear friend that lived close to her, sometimes it was when we lived in the same town. It was ever so important to me that every single year I gave her flowers on MY birthday.
Mama was one of the most remarkable women I have ever met. After she lost a precious baby, (she was in labor for 24 hours, and the cord was wrapped around his neck) she went into shock. She was told that she must never again have a child. The traumatic birth left her with all types of health issues. She was also told that she could never even get pregnant.
Imagine her surprise, and delight when four years later she discovered that she was pregnant. That was me, her 8th pregnancy, and 3rd child to live. I was born a bonny, bouncing, baby at 8 pounds.
When it was time for my delivery, her doctor was stuck in snarling LA traffic. So she was delivered by two residents who were total strangers to her. The doctor arrived simultaneously with me. Standing in the back of the delivery room (he hadn't time to prepare to assist) he announced, "I want everyone here to understand that this is a miracle. Birth is always a miracle but this birth is many types of miracles. Sarah was sterile, unable to conceive. When we discovered that she was pregnant that was miracle enough. Sarah could not carry a child. She had too many health problems to carry a pregnancy to full-term. She could certainly never deliver a child safely. Yet here is this beautiful baby. These events are all miracles!"
Mama often reminded me that I was a miracle baby. It gave me a strong sense of identity and worth from my earliest memories. (On the other hand, my daughters may have gotten a little tired of the story when they could quote it word for word from memory).
Mama and Papa brought me home to my two adoring siblings, 10 years, and 6 years old. All was blissful until...one night I began to "bark like a dog," as my Mother colorfully described. She called a doctor and asked for advice. He said that I probably had the croup. She held the phone up to my mouth and said, "Does this sound like croup?" I was not only croup coughing, but wheezing like crazy.
Mama, and Papa went to the doctor's office with me. They discovered to their horror that I had virtually no immune system. I was also severely allergic to pretty much every item of earth life, from food, to plants, and lets not even get started on the pollution in the 1950's worsening air in California.
On another visit the doctor wrapped me up in a blanket and I started to turn blue. He quickly released me and said, "If you put her down to sleep in a crib she could suffocate in minutes. You must hold her round the clock."
Fortunately, our church group was very loving and supportive. Volunteers came to take turns holding me so that Mama and Papa could get some much needed rest. I can't remember those tender times.
Back to Mama. Can you imagine the stress and worry of having a severely medically fragile child? The Mayo brothers came to Los Angeles and Mama and Papa took me to them. They tested me for a long, long time. Finally they called Mama and Papa in and said, "Your daughter is the most highly allergic child that we have ever seen." They gave my parents a three page, single spaced, list of must dos and must do nots. Little things like running the vacuum three times a day throughout the house. Keeping me away from all animals, and the list went on and on and on.
Mama said of that time, "We lived in prayer. We never knew when you would have your next attack or if you would survive the next attack!"
This was the late 1950's. There was only two treatments for asthma. One was oxygen. The other one was a painful pounding on my back to loosen the mucus secretions that my body insisted on making thicker than necessary.
I grew up hearing the story of irritation, inflammation, and infection. My body would become irritated or inflamed due to allergy, this would lead to infection, which would worsen the irritation and inflammation and around and around I went.
Papa was working full-time during all of this. He often would need to give me a blessing or run me to the hospital in the middle of the night. Mama was doing her best to raise her other two lovely children, and keep a house.
Mama was ferociously independent. The idea of constantly receiving help from others was just not acceptable to Mama. One of her church friends said, "That's right Sarah. You just keep insisting on keeping all the blessings to yourself. You and I know that you can't serve without receiving blessings. So you won't let me serve, and you keep all those lovely blessings to yourself!" Mama let Mary help.
Mama and Papa would often drop everything and we would drive to Mt. Baldy. My Brother and Sister also had to drop everything and come with us. As we would rise above the pollution my asthma attack would lessen and finally subside.
I also remember being carried to our neighbors. Mr. Bench had emphysema and they had an oxygen tank in the house. Lovingly the Bench's had offered me use of their tank. Oxygen was very expensive to have at home. My parents couldn't afford it. Going to the Bench's was quicker, and there was no Emergency Room expense.
Think for a moment what it would be like to live this way, day in and day out. You never know when your precious child might die suddenly. You are constantly guarding this child from illness and yet attempting to give the child as normal a life as possible.
Doctor's told my parents that it would be quite likely that I would not live to be two years old. One day after a hospitalization, a resident came up to my Mama and said, "Mrs. Cheney, if you do not get this child out of Western Medicine, she will simply not survive." He then added, "If you tell anyone that I said this I will deny it." It took courage for him to make such a radical suggestion.
Mama listened and off we went. I think we went almost from A to Z of what alternative medicines were available at the time. Allergists (non Western allergists), Chiropractors, Dietitians, Herbologists, and Naturopaths, Some helped a great deal, others made things worse, and some did nothing at all.
Through all of it, Mama was endlessly optimistic to me. She never complained about all the stress I brought into her life. I was a MIRACLE! What an enormous blessing it was and is to a child with such significant health challenges to have such a CHAMPION for a Mother, never giving up, always looking for ways and means to improve my life.
She kept watching out and over for me for the rest of her life. I can only imagine how hard it was for her to let me go...leave the nest...and trust in my own ability to manage my health. I know that her faith was not an inactive belief. Mama's faith was an enormous power.
Mama passed away at the age of 95. I will do my best for the rest of my life to send her flowers on my birthday I thought of delivering them to her grave but decided against it because her soul is not there! The soul of my Mother is just as busy and loving on the other side of the veil as it was here. I know that she is still lovingly watching over me. So, I will find ways and means to celebrate Mama, to bring her flowers for as long as I live.
I love you Mama...beyond death. I cherish your influence in my entire life. I'm so grateful that I got to keep you for 57 years! I never want you to forget how grateful I am for all of your sacrifice and love.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Here We Go Again!
Last night I was eating a delicious piece of candy I love sugar, especially when it's covered by chocolate! Suddenly I was aware that there was a piece that was extremely hard. When I fished it out of my mouth I discovered that yet another of my teeth had broken off at the roots.
Sigh...it didn't hurt...it just gave up. So now I have an even bigger space where my upper teeth should be. Thank goodness that when I lived in Portland, Social Services actually paid for a dentist to crown my two front teeth. They are now two of the only 4 teeth I still have on the top level. Oh, the roots to the broken teeth are still there. Roots that abcess far too easily.
I am eager to have them all removed. I'm hoping, praying that my health will improve when I no longer fight this constant battle.
I have come to understand that I am extremely vain. I liked the way that I looked with teeth. After my parents sacrificed to get me braces my teeth were lovely. I often had people tell me that I had a beautiful smile. I liked hearing that.
Nobody would tell me that now. I look very much like a chipmunk. Remember how they only have two large teeth in front? Chewing is very entertaining. How much can you chew without teeth?
I know that it will take awhile for my gums to heal after the extractions. It will take awhile for me to get used to dentures. I still know that it will be better than it is now. It will be awesome to just see myself with teeth, even if I can't use them to chew for awhile!
In my late teens and early 20's I had nightmares of my teeth breaking to pieces and falling out. I studied dream psychology and found out that those dreams were showing a fear of lack of control. I no longer have to dream about my teeth falling out, and breaking off, it has become my reality.
I do not have the confidence to try to approach anyone to sell my books with these raggedy, jaggedy mess of teeth. All I have to do is to open my mouth and they will not listen to another word I say. I know that people are judgmental about bad teeth. I know this because I used to be.
I worked with a kind man who had all his teeth pulled in his 20's. He grew up in a desperately poor family. They never had money for tooth work. When I met him I thought that he was at least 60. He would have many days that he didn't wear his dentures. They did not fit properly. They caused him pain and so he would just go without them. I thought he was at least 60. He was in his early 40's.
Children growing up now do not have the benefit that I did of proper dental work. It's prohibitively expensive to get a tooth filled, or teeth cleaned. Unless you have a dental benefit through your employer I do not know how you could afford to keep your children's teeth healthy.
I remember an appointment with the dentist when I was 11 or 12. He just checked my teeth for decay. It cost $13.00. THIRTEEN DOLLARS! The same appointment now would cost at least $60.00. Our middle class income has NOT kept pace with inflation.
So is there a point to this post? I guess the point is that I needed to vent a bit about the situation that I am currently facing. I DO think that dentist's should have a sliding scale of charge for people who can't afford to get their children's teeth cared for, forget their own.
I also think that Social Services should understand that just because I live with my daughters (because I can't afford appropriate housing on my own), they should not count my daughter's income as though it is mine. I should still be able to get medical and dental assistance.
Venting is done. I wish that I had the answer to these problems. If I DID have the answer I would not need to vent. Anybody out there that knows these answers?
UPDATE: It was harder than I thought to become toothless. Suddenly the face looking back at me in the mirror looked about 20 years older. I still can't wear my bottom plate. Bone deterioration has left little for the plate to be attached. I had implants placed in my lower jaw, but I can't afford the $1,400.00 price to get my dentures prepared for that. (I didn't realize that cost was involved).
On the other hand, my health HAS improved. I have been able to make goals and actually meet them. That is such a freeing thing, when you know that you can plan for the future!
Sigh...it didn't hurt...it just gave up. So now I have an even bigger space where my upper teeth should be. Thank goodness that when I lived in Portland, Social Services actually paid for a dentist to crown my two front teeth. They are now two of the only 4 teeth I still have on the top level. Oh, the roots to the broken teeth are still there. Roots that abcess far too easily.
I am eager to have them all removed. I'm hoping, praying that my health will improve when I no longer fight this constant battle.
I have come to understand that I am extremely vain. I liked the way that I looked with teeth. After my parents sacrificed to get me braces my teeth were lovely. I often had people tell me that I had a beautiful smile. I liked hearing that.
Nobody would tell me that now. I look very much like a chipmunk. Remember how they only have two large teeth in front? Chewing is very entertaining. How much can you chew without teeth?
I know that it will take awhile for my gums to heal after the extractions. It will take awhile for me to get used to dentures. I still know that it will be better than it is now. It will be awesome to just see myself with teeth, even if I can't use them to chew for awhile!
In my late teens and early 20's I had nightmares of my teeth breaking to pieces and falling out. I studied dream psychology and found out that those dreams were showing a fear of lack of control. I no longer have to dream about my teeth falling out, and breaking off, it has become my reality.
I do not have the confidence to try to approach anyone to sell my books with these raggedy, jaggedy mess of teeth. All I have to do is to open my mouth and they will not listen to another word I say. I know that people are judgmental about bad teeth. I know this because I used to be.
I worked with a kind man who had all his teeth pulled in his 20's. He grew up in a desperately poor family. They never had money for tooth work. When I met him I thought that he was at least 60. He would have many days that he didn't wear his dentures. They did not fit properly. They caused him pain and so he would just go without them. I thought he was at least 60. He was in his early 40's.
Children growing up now do not have the benefit that I did of proper dental work. It's prohibitively expensive to get a tooth filled, or teeth cleaned. Unless you have a dental benefit through your employer I do not know how you could afford to keep your children's teeth healthy.
I remember an appointment with the dentist when I was 11 or 12. He just checked my teeth for decay. It cost $13.00. THIRTEEN DOLLARS! The same appointment now would cost at least $60.00. Our middle class income has NOT kept pace with inflation.
So is there a point to this post? I guess the point is that I needed to vent a bit about the situation that I am currently facing. I DO think that dentist's should have a sliding scale of charge for people who can't afford to get their children's teeth cared for, forget their own.
I also think that Social Services should understand that just because I live with my daughters (because I can't afford appropriate housing on my own), they should not count my daughter's income as though it is mine. I should still be able to get medical and dental assistance.
Venting is done. I wish that I had the answer to these problems. If I DID have the answer I would not need to vent. Anybody out there that knows these answers?
UPDATE: It was harder than I thought to become toothless. Suddenly the face looking back at me in the mirror looked about 20 years older. I still can't wear my bottom plate. Bone deterioration has left little for the plate to be attached. I had implants placed in my lower jaw, but I can't afford the $1,400.00 price to get my dentures prepared for that. (I didn't realize that cost was involved).
On the other hand, my health HAS improved. I have been able to make goals and actually meet them. That is such a freeing thing, when you know that you can plan for the future!
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
A New Type of Journey
In the post I just wrote I acknowledged the fact that I am old. There are certain types of challenges that I'm facing as an old woman. My beloved daughters do not want me to "own" being old. They want me to be young. They watched their Father die when he was a mere 54. I have been advised that I will live at least to 95 preferably to 120. When I suggested that if I made it to 120 I would be a shadow of a human lying in a bed going blah, blah, de blah blah. They replied, "Yes, but you will still be with us!"
However, moving my way through life I have had seasons of "repair," for this body, and seasons of just radiant joy in enjoying the gifts that having a mortal body gives me. This year is a season of repair. A season of healing.
The Bible has a wonderful scripture that says, "To everything turn, turn, turn, there is a season, turn, turn, turn, and a time to every purpose under heaven." This is that type of season.
My poor teeth. They have served me ever so well. This fact can be attested when a glance is made at my current 220 pound framework. I have a firm foundation. I'm a curvaceous cutie. Or as my sweetheart used to tell me, "You're Rubinesque!"
My dear parents sacrificed a great deal to pay one thousand dollars to get my teeth straightened. That would be about 5 thousand dollars now. At the end of my teen years I faced the world with glistening, beautiful, white teeth. It was a huge confidence booster. Before braces I had too many teeth in a too small mouth. I had my Father's rather large teeth in my Mother's rather small mouth. My oldest Brother shared a similar fate. I still am a trifle jealous of my beautiful sister who had and has perfect teeth. I did say just a trifle. She's beautiful all the way through and I no longer let jealousy hold my love for her back. My Brother also had braces, but he achieved them in his 30's. He was and is so handsome that crooked teeth were more about good health.
Now, I stand on the threshold of the removal of all those teeth. Well, there aren't so very many left. A mere 14 teeth stand between me and a new life with dentures. Am I embarrassed to admit that I will have false teeth? Not even a little. I will be filled with gratitude to smile and not have embarrassing gray, rotten teeth, with little jaggedy, raggedy broken parts left.
Why on earth would anyone post about this subject? I do so with the hope that there is someone in the Cyber world who will read of my experience and receive courage or comfort in a common journey.
It is not just my teeth that will be removed this year. Both of my knees have been well used. I dance. Sometimes the dance is performed in a wheelchair, or regular chair, but I DANCE! I have promised myself that if all I can move is my eyes, or my soul...I WILL DANCE!
Two miserable knees, that have literally been knocked sideways hinder my process. I use medication to palliate the worst of the hideous pain but there are days that I simply can't face walking up and down our stairs, let alone dressing and going out in the world.
I went to my dentist to have molds made, and measurements made, and choices made to the color of my dentures. I admire my dentist. He is not only proficient at his craft, but he is a deeply spiritual man. He is the unpaid shepherd of his religious flock.
The assistant came to me with two denture pieces to decide what color my dentures should be. I suddenly realized that she was holding up the pieces next to my teeth. When I said, "Wait, are you trying to match the color of what teeth I have left? They are rotten, nasty. I want dentures that AREN'T rotten and nasty!"
She said, well this is the color used the most often. (There was very much an unstated, AT YOUR AGE).
I replied, "My teeth are awful. They are all damaged and rotten. Why on earth would I want dentures that are the same color?"
She then showed me a lighter tone and said, "Well this is the color next to it. Is this color ok?"
I wasn't really certain that I appreciated the slightly lighter gray tone that she was showing me. After she left to take care of some other business, and the dentist was working with someone else, I got up and looked at the colors of dentures that she hadn't shown me.
When the dentist returned I said, "Is there some reason that I'm missing why I would want dentures that look old and dingy?"
He said, "We have found that lighter shades of color do not look realistic. So we prefer to use these colors. Most people do not want others to realize that they have dentures." (Not an exact quote of what he said, but the meaning is there).
I said, "I have been battling with my rotten teeth for at least 10 years. Now my daughters are helping me to get the old rotten pieces removed and dentures in place. I am NOT trying to hide the fact that I'm getting dentures. I'm quite proud of the idea. I'm a rather open person. Those people that I care about will know for a fact that I have dentures! So why would I want gray, dismal dentures?"
He didn't really have a response for that. I think my attitude was a bit of a surprise for him. An almost old woman who wants white dentures? What?
I loved it when he measure the two front teeth that I do have (they are both crowns, but lovely crowns), and said, "Your teeth are a good length for us to make the dentures." Did you hear that Mom, Dad? My teeth were a good length! So even if there was that too little of a mouth for too many teeth thing, you gave me teeth that were a good length!
The hardest part of all of this was the financial part. I have fought ever since Nyle's death to find a way to get my teeth cared for without having my daughters future compromised by debt for my rotten teeth. I tried many, many different avenues for charitable assistance. There was always some reason that I didn't qualify.
When we lived in Portland I had an assistant who came three times a week for four hours each time. She helped me with the tasks that I'm not supposed to do. Things like "Dishes, laundry, vacuuming, shopping for groceries, and sometimes helping me in and out of the bathtub depending on the level my disability was at. In addition they paid for any dental needs, and any and all medical needs.
We moved to Utah because our two beautiful daughters grew up and went to school in the general area. We also moved because my Mama was almost 90 and needed more care. Then there were the myriads of Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, etc. that I had been missing for almost 20 years.
I made the fateful assumption that I would be able to qualify for a similar program here in Utah. I could not have been more wrong. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day saints is very strong here. I am a member. I have actually had social services suggest that I need to turn to my family and/or clergy.
So much for separation of church and state, right?
I'm so beyond excited for this to be over and done. One of my dear friends who also battles the fights of disability had to have all her teeth extracted at the young age of 45. She is such a light, such a positive soul. She said, "The day they pulled my teeth I went to a movie with a friend. Once my gums were healed and my dentures were made I would go to bed, take out my teeth, and eat chocolate. No worries about tooth decay any more! I would go to the dentist, take out my dentures, hand them to him, and just SMILE! No more drilling, filling, or the other horrors of dentistry!"
I will strive to be positive as I march through this part of my journey this year. I am blessed with a wonderful support network. I know that I will come out of this year's challenges BIONIC! Oh watch that girl chew! It's amazing! Watch that girl hike/dance/walk ferociously! Two new knees, and a beautiful grin! I'm SO EXCITED!
However, moving my way through life I have had seasons of "repair," for this body, and seasons of just radiant joy in enjoying the gifts that having a mortal body gives me. This year is a season of repair. A season of healing.
The Bible has a wonderful scripture that says, "To everything turn, turn, turn, there is a season, turn, turn, turn, and a time to every purpose under heaven." This is that type of season.
My poor teeth. They have served me ever so well. This fact can be attested when a glance is made at my current 220 pound framework. I have a firm foundation. I'm a curvaceous cutie. Or as my sweetheart used to tell me, "You're Rubinesque!"
My dear parents sacrificed a great deal to pay one thousand dollars to get my teeth straightened. That would be about 5 thousand dollars now. At the end of my teen years I faced the world with glistening, beautiful, white teeth. It was a huge confidence booster. Before braces I had too many teeth in a too small mouth. I had my Father's rather large teeth in my Mother's rather small mouth. My oldest Brother shared a similar fate. I still am a trifle jealous of my beautiful sister who had and has perfect teeth. I did say just a trifle. She's beautiful all the way through and I no longer let jealousy hold my love for her back. My Brother also had braces, but he achieved them in his 30's. He was and is so handsome that crooked teeth were more about good health.
Now, I stand on the threshold of the removal of all those teeth. Well, there aren't so very many left. A mere 14 teeth stand between me and a new life with dentures. Am I embarrassed to admit that I will have false teeth? Not even a little. I will be filled with gratitude to smile and not have embarrassing gray, rotten teeth, with little jaggedy, raggedy broken parts left.
Why on earth would anyone post about this subject? I do so with the hope that there is someone in the Cyber world who will read of my experience and receive courage or comfort in a common journey.
It is not just my teeth that will be removed this year. Both of my knees have been well used. I dance. Sometimes the dance is performed in a wheelchair, or regular chair, but I DANCE! I have promised myself that if all I can move is my eyes, or my soul...I WILL DANCE!
Two miserable knees, that have literally been knocked sideways hinder my process. I use medication to palliate the worst of the hideous pain but there are days that I simply can't face walking up and down our stairs, let alone dressing and going out in the world.
I went to my dentist to have molds made, and measurements made, and choices made to the color of my dentures. I admire my dentist. He is not only proficient at his craft, but he is a deeply spiritual man. He is the unpaid shepherd of his religious flock.
The assistant came to me with two denture pieces to decide what color my dentures should be. I suddenly realized that she was holding up the pieces next to my teeth. When I said, "Wait, are you trying to match the color of what teeth I have left? They are rotten, nasty. I want dentures that AREN'T rotten and nasty!"
She said, well this is the color used the most often. (There was very much an unstated, AT YOUR AGE).
I replied, "My teeth are awful. They are all damaged and rotten. Why on earth would I want dentures that are the same color?"
She then showed me a lighter tone and said, "Well this is the color next to it. Is this color ok?"
I wasn't really certain that I appreciated the slightly lighter gray tone that she was showing me. After she left to take care of some other business, and the dentist was working with someone else, I got up and looked at the colors of dentures that she hadn't shown me.
When the dentist returned I said, "Is there some reason that I'm missing why I would want dentures that look old and dingy?"
He said, "We have found that lighter shades of color do not look realistic. So we prefer to use these colors. Most people do not want others to realize that they have dentures." (Not an exact quote of what he said, but the meaning is there).
I said, "I have been battling with my rotten teeth for at least 10 years. Now my daughters are helping me to get the old rotten pieces removed and dentures in place. I am NOT trying to hide the fact that I'm getting dentures. I'm quite proud of the idea. I'm a rather open person. Those people that I care about will know for a fact that I have dentures! So why would I want gray, dismal dentures?"
He didn't really have a response for that. I think my attitude was a bit of a surprise for him. An almost old woman who wants white dentures? What?
I loved it when he measure the two front teeth that I do have (they are both crowns, but lovely crowns), and said, "Your teeth are a good length for us to make the dentures." Did you hear that Mom, Dad? My teeth were a good length! So even if there was that too little of a mouth for too many teeth thing, you gave me teeth that were a good length!
The hardest part of all of this was the financial part. I have fought ever since Nyle's death to find a way to get my teeth cared for without having my daughters future compromised by debt for my rotten teeth. I tried many, many different avenues for charitable assistance. There was always some reason that I didn't qualify.
When we lived in Portland I had an assistant who came three times a week for four hours each time. She helped me with the tasks that I'm not supposed to do. Things like "Dishes, laundry, vacuuming, shopping for groceries, and sometimes helping me in and out of the bathtub depending on the level my disability was at. In addition they paid for any dental needs, and any and all medical needs.
We moved to Utah because our two beautiful daughters grew up and went to school in the general area. We also moved because my Mama was almost 90 and needed more care. Then there were the myriads of Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, etc. that I had been missing for almost 20 years.
I made the fateful assumption that I would be able to qualify for a similar program here in Utah. I could not have been more wrong. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day saints is very strong here. I am a member. I have actually had social services suggest that I need to turn to my family and/or clergy.
So much for separation of church and state, right?
I'm so beyond excited for this to be over and done. One of my dear friends who also battles the fights of disability had to have all her teeth extracted at the young age of 45. She is such a light, such a positive soul. She said, "The day they pulled my teeth I went to a movie with a friend. Once my gums were healed and my dentures were made I would go to bed, take out my teeth, and eat chocolate. No worries about tooth decay any more! I would go to the dentist, take out my dentures, hand them to him, and just SMILE! No more drilling, filling, or the other horrors of dentistry!"
I will strive to be positive as I march through this part of my journey this year. I am blessed with a wonderful support network. I know that I will come out of this year's challenges BIONIC! Oh watch that girl chew! It's amazing! Watch that girl hike/dance/walk ferociously! Two new knees, and a beautiful grin! I'm SO EXCITED!
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