College to Cancer?

 Everything was set.  After forty-six years I was going back to college.  I was so excited!  I had a snazzy little red car.  I was looking for an apartment.  My registration (which involved the folks at the college going into the archives and brushing off almost fifty years of dust) had taken so very long.  The new adventure was calling me forward....AND THEN.

Why is is that in life curves are allowed to appear when the road before you seems straight and exciting?  Breast cancer was back!  This was my second bout.  I had faced it before when I was thirty-four.  If I had known then that it would return to haunt me and steal away my long delayed dreams I would have had it removed then!  Alas, none of us know what the future holds.  I was young and the cancer was very early.  So I opted for two lumpectomies and radiation.

I tried to reason that it wasn't going to take me very long to recover and then I would head off to college.  My recovery triggered a bunch of complications.  So like watching dominoes fall I witness my dreams crushed by other health issues.

 I mourned, oh how I mourned!  Tears wet my pillow at night, and I sobbed often to those that are my best support.  I did NOT waste any time asking, "Why me?" or just "Why?"  Life has taught me that those questions rarely have answers.  In addition they rob me of the precious energy I need to face the reality of my everyday.

Another question came forward.  "How?  How can I navigate this blow?  How can I move through the Valley of the Shadow of Death with hope and courage?  This question helped me to look inward for strengths that I was not aware of.  This question helped me to look at others and the way they navigated the hard and ruthless in life with grace and dignity.

It was NOT easy.  It indeed has been one of the hardest challenges of my life.  Yet there were gifts and lessons hidden in unlikely places as I traversed this curve in my life's road.  I even discovered joy as I laughed with women who had walked this same path.  

I had longed for a new/old challenge and adventure.  I wanted to go to college, to gain a Bachelor's degree.  I still believe in the power of education to unlock opportunities.  I now remember that education is not limited to brick and mortar buildings.  It is not only gained through hours and hours of classroom study.  Education comes to those that are open to it, in the unexpected curves in life.  Indeed, it is the very core of where the most important wisdom may be derived.  

Now?  Everyday is an adventure to find the best ways to walk through the curves. Sometimes fog that seems to hide any possibility can be blown away by the winds of lessons I've gained in this manner. 

Dot...the extraordinary comfort kitty!

 My husband was like the Pied Piper of Hamlin, only with cats....that he did not lead to drown in water.  Cats, literally walked off the street straight to him.  Dot, well she showed up one cold, rainy, wintry evening on our porch.  We already had THREE animals in a space where we were only supposed to have TWO.  What are you going to do when those animals march right off the street and into your heart?  I tried to be firm.  Make her a tent to get warm, give her food and water, BUT DON'T BRING HER IN THE HOUSE!  Why was I so adamant?  I knew that she would come inside and I would become attached and we would have double the amount of animals that we were supposed to have?!

I should put in the title, don't read if you are not absolutely madly, crazy in love with some sort of animal.  Anyway, Dot next was moved to our garage, which my husband used for a recording studio.  That gave he and Dot lots of bonding time.  

Then one day, one of my children's friends brazenly marched into the house with Dot in her hands...and that was that.  Her name?  My wise manipulative husband (well not really totally manipulative, just a little bit) knew that if I named this creature, I would be even further connected to her.  It was easy.  She was all gray, (I thought, but learned differently later...that is for another post) except for a tiny white dot of fur just below her chin.  Of course, later her name was elongated to Dotsy, Dotsy Doodle Doo and Dotsy Wotsy Doodle Doo.  (What? Her owner loves words).  

I did NOT like Dot much at first.  She came, brand new into an already established pecking order.  Rolly, our precious Poochan pooch was the alpha.  Spike, our orange tabby was next, and Katty Kaliko was lowest on the totem pole.  Dot came in determined to become the alpha...forget being a MALE alpha....from the first she was, "I am woman hear me roar!"  (Thanks to Helen Reddy for singing that lovely anthem).  Dot would stalk the two kitties and jump out at them.  

Rolly?  She seemed to think that Rolly was some sort of odd cat.  She was madly in love at first sight.  Sadly, that love was NOT reciprocated.  Rolly was, however tolerant (most of the time) of her loving nuzzles and sidles against him.  

I fed Dot, and put up with Dot but she was very much devoted to my husband and child.  He would often tell me, "She's a sweet kitty!"  I was not convinced.  Then my husband died.  Dot grieved with us.  At first she was a bit annoyed that I would actually sit in his recliner.  Eventually she accepted me as a worthwhile participant in the loyal order of Nyle and his creatures!  

I had never lived alone.  I was terrified.  Our children were grown up and gone.  The worst was nightimes.  My hubby and I were nocturnal for the last decade of our marriage.  I would usually go to bed earlier than him, but I felt completely safe knowing that my six foot four muscular honey was watching over me.  When he passed, I was lost.  I felt as though my feet went completely out from under me.  We had shared twenty seven years of living and three children together.  

This is when Dot and I bonded.  Both lost without him, she seemed drawn to me when I needed her most.  In the darkness of the night I would awaken myelf sobbing.  Often Dot would climb on my tummy and knead my chest, throat and face.  It was like having a personal grief crisis counselor that lived with me.  

After my husband's passing we moved....lots...and she moved on with me.  Along the way we said goodbye to Spike, Katty, and Rolly.  Dot continued on.  In the last few months she has been bravely battling lymphoma.  Her vet told me that she is the strongest animal that they ever worked with.  Strong in her desire to live in spite of chemo, shots, blood draws, pills, etc.  She was strong in her persistence at getting around, up and down, and wherever she needed to go.  I continued having nightly communal experiences with her purring, and kneading.  This last week, things changed drastically.  Her ability to fight the demon invading her body grew weaker.  She was down to nearly four pounds.  In her prime she weighed almost fifteen.  Even as her body weakened her spirit soared. During this time she received massive quantities of snuggles, treats, water from the bathroom faucet (she adored watching the water come out fuzzy and then drinking from my hand).

Finally it became obvious that it was time to release her.  It would not have been merciful to wait for this wasting disease to finish destroying her strong body.  Today I made the trip that every pet lover dreads.  She went to the vet's one last time.  The vet was AMAZING!  They had a beautiful outdoor space prepared with lavender growing to one side, and a charming gazebo.  It's a pandemic and I'm a prime candidate so they were willing to perform her release outside.  I sang to her and stroked her head as she relaxed and then leaped into her strong, healthy spirit self.  

I have no doubt that my sweety, her rescuer is holding her in his arms.  Rolly is putting up with her loving nuzzles, and she is once again trying to rule the roost.  Thank you my deliver Dot, who helped me cope with grief until I was strong enough to face it on my own. 

Still Crazy After All These Years

In one hour and seven minutes I will have lived on this planet for sixty-four years.  When I was born I had severe allergy asthma, and very little immune system.  I was in and out of the hospital often.  There was no treatment for asthma but to give oxygen and pray the attack would stop.  I remember at about the age of three or four being in an oxygen tent.  The doctor was speaking to a group of interns nearby.  I'm sure he thought that I couldn't hear him over the sound of the oxygen.  My ears were still pretty sharp then.  I heard him say, "This child will not live very long.  She is too severely allergic and sensitive."

Lying there I thought to myself, "HAH!  I'll show you Dr.!"  I HAVE, I've shown that doctor and then some.  Of course, the credit for keeping me alive long enough to reach some marvelous medical discoveries goes to my patient self-sacrificing parents.  They did everything in their power to keep me alive.  My attacks often started in the middle of the night, which meant one or both of my parents didn't get much sleep.  Mama started doing research and off we went to herbologists, naturopaths, chiropractors, nutrinists, and more.  Obviously something worked.

Then I began to see a new Dr.  He was a family practice doctor and he changed my life forever.  When he discovered my dismal past medical history he didn't just push a pill at me and tell me to come back in six weeks.  No, he got busy and did intensive research about the newest medical developments for my condition.  He got me involved in a medical trial.  I began to use a medication that helped to desensitize my bronchials.  It didn't cure me, but it lessened by hospital stays a great deal.  As my asthma lessened, I was able to strengthen my immune system.

I went to college, performed in summerstock theater, served an LDS mission, sang, danced, and acted in many productions.  I met the man of my dreams and we created family together.  He got his undergrad degree, and then his J.D.  We performed together with great joy. 

Now?  Now even though the pandemic has swept away most of the outside activity in my life, I am still filled with enthusiasm for the inside activity.  I sew, write, knit, do genealogy work, dance, sing, and sometimes play the piano.  I've watched fascinating documentaries that have increased my knowledge, and I'm currently taking an online Spanish class. 

One of my friends once told me (she was in her 80s at the time), you are only as old as your oldest cell.  Your body produces new cells every 5 seconds.  I have not verified the science of this with SNOPES but I like her vision.  In her nineties she needed to move into assisted living.  The last I heard, she was teaching aerobics there. 

Even if my body keeps getting older, and my health issues continue to pile up, I'm going to do my best to find joy.  There will always be something that I can do...even if it is lying in bed praying for those I love.  I AM praying right now.  I'm praying for this pandemic to stop.  I'm praying for a useful vaccine to be created.  I'm praying for a world where black lives DO matter, and we do NOT go around judging each other harshly.  I've seen a great deal of history in sixty-four years of living.  I want to see some more.  I wish to see our children make our earth safer, healthier, and much more loving. 

I'm happy that I've lived to reach my sixty-fourth birthday.  I'm blowing that doomsayer doctor a raspberry.  I imagine that he has passed on long since...and I'm still here...and still doing my best everyday.  (OK....I do not wish that doctor harm.  I just want him to see that I proved him wrong?) 

Happy birthday to me!

STOP THIS MADNESS!!!

I do my best to stay away from the divisiveness of politics. I can't be silent any longer. First of all...no haters please. I respect your right to your opinion. Please respect mine.

Portland, OR is a lovely town. The people are kind, they are tolerant of others, they even allow those that are down on their luck (the homeless) to put up a tent or tarp wherever it is not causing anyone harm. Unbelievably, even in heavy traffic they will allow your vehicle to merge into places that you need to merge.  

Since the horror of George Floyd's death there have been mostly peaceful protests about the use of extreme policing and racism. Enter federal troops who don't identify themselves, act as commandos, not peace officers (I believe most officers still swear to protect and defend...people?) and quickly prove that the very problem Black Lives Matter protestors are trying to address NEEDS TO BE ADDRESSED! This overreach of the Executive Branch of Government is completely unacceptable. The protests in Portland were lessening...enter the stormtroopers (they really do look like that) with unfettered use of tear gas, rubber bullets (which broke the skull of a man), billy clubs (regular policemen haven't been allowed to use those for years), flash bangs, and an authoritarian attitude that smacks of tyranny.

My beloved Papa served for three years as a paratrooper and infantry man during World War II. He was very proud of the service that he gave for his country. This action against our own citizens would sicken him. He believed in our country and the values that we are supposed to stand up for. 

Maybe this president could spend more time focusing on ridding our country once and for all of a pandemic that is increasing exponentially? Perhaps, he could see that our health care heroes have the supplies that they need without having to wrangle to get them. Maybe the money that is being spent to send federal troops into Democratic cities instead could be used to get our health care workers the supplies they need? Or perhaps that money could go toward the expense of creating the vaccine that we need to end the Covid19 virus once and for all!  

What about the record number of unemployed people that are scrambling in our country?  Remember those down on their luck folks that I mentioned above?  There may soon be much larger populations of tent cities as people are unable to pay for housing for themselves and their families.  Perhaps some money could be put into this effort?

Finally, in what world does it make sense to send our precious children back to school in the fall?  When I was a child we were encouraged never to swap hats because it increased the exposure to ringworm and lice from other children.  Can you imagine 7 years olds that continue to wear their masks all day long without swapping with another child?  What about children who are asymptomatic but bring home Covid19 to other family members, those immune compromised or elderly?  Who will pay for the health care that all of them will require?  How about the teachers, and the staff when they become sick and must be quarantined.  Who will care for their costs?  As usual our president makes decisions without a single thought about possible consequences for others. 

Remember when a certain current president made NOT wearing a mask in a pandemic a political statement?  Remember how sharply the Covid19 cases rose because people were NOT wearing masks in public?

Please, let's stop the madness.  Here are some reasoned ideas to consider.  
 1.  Quit sending federal troops to cities that have largely moderate protests.  If there is looting, let the city, county, and state officers who have been trained to deal with these actions without exacerbating violence, police them.  That will save a large quantity of money.  
2.  Let's use that money that we have saved to ensure that our health care workers have the appropriate equipment that they need to keep themselves safe in this pandemic.  Let's make certain that there are guaranteed lines of replacement for all of that medical equipment.  
3.  There needs to be a plan to fund some sort of employment for all of these people who have no income.  There must be work that needs doing that could be accomplished from homes.  
4.  Let's establish a stay at home school program for at least this school year to avoid causing the possible health consequences of children returning to school during a pandemic.  Teachers could teach more practically remotely, than trying to teach masked children in socially distanced classrooms.  
5.  Let's require people to wear masks in any situations where they can't stay six feet from others.  We must close down places or situations that can expose us to this virus.

My Other Mother

I have been blessed in my life by the mothering influence of many, many women.  Some have been the age of my mother, some have been my age, and some have been younger than me.  To me, mother energy defies age.  It is the powerful gift of loving beyond your own selfish wishes.

My mom-in law was one of the best examples of powerful love, and nurturing.  She raised five tremendous sons.  She did this even after a painful divorce, and having to return to the work force after twenty-five years as a stay at home mother.  At first she cooked delicious foodstuffs and had her sons sell them in the neighborhood.  When this failed to adequately support her family, she went to work as a secretary/receptionist.  She barely earned enough to pay the rent.  My husband remembers times when he slept in the kitchen because they could only afford a one bedroom apartment.

Within a few years she went from a secretary/receptionist to the first woman detective for consumer fraud in the state where she lived.  She was brilliant.  Unfortunately, she was never paid as much as her mail peers.  The reason she was told is, "They had families to support."  I've often wondered at the hubris of someone telling her this when it was common knowledge that she was the sole breadwinner in her family of five sons.  Her retirement was lessened substantially by this foolishness.

She raised five strong boys to become five strong men.  She did this while working to support them.  One of my favorite stories about her creativity was the traveling circus that she would develop.  She wanted the boys to receive an allowance.  She could not afford to give them an allowance.  A circus would have games to be played (all for a small fee, of course), hot dogs and lemonade to be eaten (again at a small fee) and my husband's personal favorite was fishing.  He would receive a small prize if he managed to hook one of the fishes.

Penny poker was a game played close to allowance day.  She mindfully cheated, but was never caught, and never confessed.  By the end of the circus, or after the poker game, she would have won back the allowance.  The boys never felt cheated.  She gave them their money's worth.
When she would visit us, my husband would tease her that he expected her to pay for her supper.  He also offered to let her play fish to see if she could snag any prizes.  She graciously laughed away his teasing.

When I married her baby boy she opened her arms and heart to me.  She never had a daughter.  That didn't stop her from being a loving gracious mother to me, and to my sisters in law.  We had lots of fun together.  She could make me laugh on a regular basis.

Having lived through the great depression, World War II (her husband was stationed on the Isle of Tinian.  He saw the plane leave that dropped an atomic bomb on Japan).  She had mastered the art of being happy even when the world was not a happy place.  I always rejoiced in her visits.  I loved and respected her with all of my heart.

I loved her so much that I honored her by naming my daughter after her.  My daughter reminds me a lot of her namesake's combination of caring people skills, and brilliance of brain.

Thank you my beloved mom! 

Choosing happiness

My dear Mama lived to be ninety-five.  She lived through the Great Depression of America, and was engaged to my Papa for three years as he fought in World War II.  She knew far too well that happiness was a conscious choice.  It's was not a matter of denying that hard things happen. It was the realization that it is always possible to find joy. Sometimes you had to look really hard.

For example, Mama loved to learn.  She once attended a seminar where they told the participants to buy a pair of those glasses with the fake nose and mustache.  He then told everybody to use them to provide a much needed humor break for themselves and others.  She used that principle well.  She would put them on randomly.  Sometimes when she was riding in a car.  Often I would see a car with everyone laughing.  I would glance over and surprise, Mama had her fake glasses on.  My sister-in law once found her sitting in front of her tv with her fake nose on.  Needless to say, my sister-in law had a good laugh!

Mama said that she didn't just put that fake nose on to make others laugh.  It worked just as well for her in lifting her own spirits.

My mother fostered an amazing 20 children.  Some were official, others were not.  She had wanted a large family.  She had eight pregnancies and only three of us survived.  She often repeated to me, "You don't have to give birth to be a mother.  Being a mother is about nurturing, and loving."  She was a vivid example of this principle.

Once again it's Mother's Day.  The other night I could feel her close by me in the night.  As an asthmatic child when the only treatment was oxygen and prayers we spent many a long night together.  I would be in the recliner gasping for air, mama would be on the couch next to me.  When I am sick and miserable in the night I can feel her loving angel presence comforting me and cheering me on.

Who knows, maybe I'll be blessed enough to see her haunt me sometime.  Of course, she'll have on her fake glasses, complete with nose and mustache! 

Even a Pressure Cooker Needs to Vent

I have lived long enough to see ideas come and go...and then come again.  The pressure cooker was my mama's go to when a meal needed to be cooked quickly.  There was a valve on top that released the build-up of pressure.  Then you would put a whatchamacallit over the vent to hold in the pressure and cook the whatever faster.  Enter 60 years later and the Insta cooker. 

My life has had lots of pressure cooker times.  When life builds and fills with sorrow or stress, what do you do with that build up of pressure?  My wise sister once said, "Even a pressure cooker needs to vent once in awhile." 

This seemingly inane discussion of cookers leads up to my need to vent.  I truly strive to live life with love.  I want to be a voice for peace in an often contentious world.  There is one philosophy that pulls me in a negative direction, every single time.  I have been offered the wisdom by many that if I simply would quit manifesting negativity (by speaking about the challenges that I have faced) or if I would address the subconscious level of my past...my physical health would improve.

I met a psychologist at a holiday party.  She was charming.  She heard that I was dealing with cancer number two.  She explained that cancers are caused by unresolved issues of the past.  Kindly she offered me one free visit with her.  It was a party so I did not say, "Are you kidding me right now?  You are saying I CAUSED MY OWN CANCER?  Or that any and all of my health challenges were caused by something I did or didn't do in my lifetime?"

Simply discussing that brief conversation makes me passive-aggressive.  Sometimes being passive aggressive works.  In other words, it would have been inappropriate for me to yell at her or engage in a contentious discussion.  Yet I need to vent the negative energy somewhere.  This is where I chose to express and vent.

Please do not EVER tell me that the hard things in my life were caused by a previous bad incarnation.  Do not say that I cause my own health problems as a self-punishment for choices that I've made in the past.  I would race to quote the old idiom, "I was born this way, what's your excuse?"

I've learned a thing or two during my lifetime.  This is a truth that I will carry forward...shame and blame never fixed anything!  Telling an alcoholic that they have liver disease because of the alcohol, and then shaming them for their illness?  Good things are never accomplished by shame or blame.  Please NEVER tell me that my cancer, fibromyalgia, arthritis, spinal disease, will be CURED if I quit manifesting AKA venting or discussing them.  Do NOT tell me that my illness is my bodies way of punishing for past behaviors.  NEVER tell me that God is punishing me for some past misdeed in another life.

Here's the thing...stuff happens.  In this old world, you may bring genetic disorders forward from the past.  America went insane with nuclear testing.  They did NOT just test in isolated areas, they had secret testing sites throughout the U.S.  Dangerous waste from factories have been dumped in many rivers and water sources throughout our country.  Car accidents happen because a person is drunk, or texting.  Snow and ice cause accidents.  The bad choices of others can cause some of these things.  Our own bad choices CAN cause some of our problems.  DUMB old being in the wrong place at the right time can cause some of our issues.

What is my point?  There are many reasons why bad things happen to good people.  Telling those good people that they are responsible for those bad things just compounds their struggle.  I speak about my challenges to people because it connects my struggle to theirs.  It helps them to see that it IS possible to have a positive life experience even in the middle of the worst kinds of crap that life can hand you.

When I can offer a light to someone in the midst of deep darkness it gives me affirmation.  I'm far from perfect, but I live for times when I can use my experience to give hope to others.  One other truth that I've learned, there is ALWAYS hope!