How Do I Pull Myself Out of This One?

As the day for my first chemo treatment approaches ever nearer (less than two days, now) I find myself feeling more and more depressed and weepy. I'm not too sure exactly why, maybe just the realities all coming home to roost at once or something, but whatever the cause, it transcends my logical mind and reaches deeper into myself than I typically tend to look and I have yet to discern or explain it to myself satisfactorily. I do know it is inexorably linked to the many facts in my life that continuously remind me I am not ready for the chemo and all the resulting side effects that will be a part of the four months of treatments. The house is a mess, both of us are messes, the kitties are what kitties are, I have not been to see a dentist yet, and I do not have the mental and physical stamina I need to cope with even a decent fraction of the things that need to take place before my white cell count drops into the soles of my feet for the first time. Add to that having to cope with health insurance issues, financial difficulties, running as many errands as possible prior to my first treatment, and so on, and maybe the bouts of weepiness begin to take on a reasonable perspective. I am also still trying to heal up incisions from my last surgery, at least one of which may not be healing due to an infection (I see a doctor tomorrow) and the knowledge that the chemo will also retard the healing processes which my body seems to be so slow with at such a crucial time. I really do not feel ready for this, but suspect I never will even if everything were done to my satisfaction and there were no concerns to grouse about at all.

I have encountered many other breastless women in my travels over the past couple of weeks and there seems to be a rather strange comradery in meeting others who have traveled the same road ahead of me. They all smile and wish me luck and I hope they know those same kind words and thoughts are theirs from me as well. I had some rather wicked thoughts the other day about starting a dance group of breastless women to be known as the "Pockettes" a part of whose routine would employ the "stripper" music (Da, da, da...ta, da, da, da...) during which they would strut seductively removing items of clothing and, eventually (without ever getting naked, mind you) reach into the pockets of their bosoms and remove their prosthetic breasts, tossing them aside like gloves or some other article of superficial clothing. Perhaps a comic strip would be more appropriate for the idea, but the ending would be the same...a group of women who had all survived the ravages of cancer, who were all able to celebrate their survival, and who had all found their beauty despite having lost breasts, hair, and possibly other body parts during their ordeals. Maybe they could come out initially dressed in sequined red gowns and "strip" down to pink jumpsuits or something as modest...of course it would be "Breast Cancer Pink."

Another incident that took place at the beginning of last week was my grandmother landing in the hospital with, as it turned out, and infection that almost killed her. At one point no one really expected her to last the night. I could not have slept, so I chose to drive up to Vermont despite my still being in need of recovery time from various surgical procedures (I had a port for the chemo placed into my left jugular vein two days before we got the news about my grandmother) and ended up pushing myself a little too hard, but being very glad I went to see her, especially since she responded well to the antibiotics and recovered when no one thought she would be able to. She is now back in a nursing home until a cousin of mine and his wife arrive to live with her and help take care of her on a full-time basis. We really would go to a lot more trouble than this for her, both as individuals and as a family. It is the one thing I truly regret about never having had any children of my own; should I live to be the age my grandnother has reached (91) I will have no extended family to visit and care for me in the way we have all rallied around Gram.

I will admit I have been so wrapped up in my own little packet of woes I have not been as attentive to Mike as I normally would have been. I have been putting off or forgetting to return his phone calls and I feel very badly about this and hope to try remedying this fault over the next several weeks, although I may be physically unable to see him or talk to him much during my treatments. My youngest sister (She-who-declines-to-be-named) has been so helpful. She reminded me today that I really should go out and buy some nice clean buckets to throw up into and place them strategically around the house. She even suggested some disposable bags for the car - not something I have wanted to think about at all. It makes me wonder what else I have allowed to slip through the cracks because I did not want to have to cope with it.

Well, there you have the latest update on my cancer journey. I'm not sure when I will feel up to typing more, but as this entry has helped me feel a little better, voice some of my fears and insecurities, and get the worst of the day off my chest (along with other things...) I may do more typing than not during my treatments.

Blessings, peace, and good wishes for all who venture here.

Izzlebug

With the Approaching Chemo, It's Really Beginning to Hit Home

It seems that despite the bouts of tears, nerves, and fears I had prior to the three surgeries I've been through since April 16th, It's the chemo that has been bothering me the most. I know my case is so completely not what my poor sister went through so I cannot honestly say if or how much of my fear may be related to what I witnessed her go through, but whatever the case is, I am not looking forward to the next few months and four cycles of chemotherapy that are scheduled for me. I also had a port-a-cath (?) put in yesterday (Thursday) and it itches, although the pain is subsiding fairly quickly. I now have this thing under the skin of my left chest that runs into my jugular vein, which is not a lot of fun to contemplate, but at least it will save my poor old hands and arms from any more needle sticks since they can use the port to not only deliver my chemo but also draw blood and do any injections for CT scans, etc. should they be necessary for whatever reason. I am also grateful that I am, essentially, cancer free as I go into these treatments in that the tumor was removed with all clear margins and there was no evidence of cancer in any of the lymph nodes removed. There was also no cancer present in either of my ovaries, fallopian tubes, or uterus when they were removed either except the doctor said it looked like my uterus was gearing up to go critical (my phrasing) as it was sporting some kind of pre-cancerous something or the other when the surgery occurred. Good riddance to all cancerous and pre-cancerous cells as far as I am concerned. Now the chemo to make as absolutely certain as is humanly possible, but I really am not looking forward to the next few months!

That is my update in one very large nutshell. News on other fronts ranges from my grandmother being in the hospital, to a family picnic which may be going down in flames (yet to be determined), to my brother not doing so well, to whatever. I am not in the best of moods at the moment, as the previous paragraph may have indicated.

Tomorrow I am hoping to spend some time with a good friend who just got back from vacationing in Montana and Sunday, if it is not being canceled, my significant other and I may be heading for that family picnic I mentioned earlier, although that also depends on how well I am feeling and if I can manage a long car trip up and back. My "Pookie Bear" (yes, it's a joke!) would do just about anything to get out of driving me to my grandmother's for the event but I am not quite up to driving that distance by myself yet, and may not be for quite some time to come. Sigh, sigh, sigh!

So. that is the latest in my personal saga of cancer and personal woes. I sincerely hope all of your lives are currently brighter and more cheerful, full of hope and promise, than mine seems to be at the moment, although I feel certain this is merely the storm before the clear skies and sunshine.

Blessings on all and happiness, also.

Love,
Izzlebug

Confusion Thy Name is "Middle East"

If you have not read any of my earlier blog entries you will not have noticed my efforts to empathize on a religious level, to whatever extent I am able, with the general population and their more immediate leadership within the Muslim communities of the Middle East. However, I always knew I was missing a great deal but have always, until now, been too busy or distracted to try to discover the answers and thereby rid myself of the confusion I have been feeling when trying to understand the issues, major and otherwise. I feel I have made some very small inroads* into this area and I will share my minute wealth of knowledge, such as it is and such of which most well-educated people may already be aware:

I have learned that the two main factions (I do not know if this is an appropriate term to use here) within the religion and culture of Islam are the Sunni and the Shiite. Each group has its own political/paramilitary arm; the Sunni branch has Hamas and the Shiite branch has Hezbollah. Despite the fact that many muslims from both groups may no longer practice their religion as strictly as the clergy in the nations in question may desire, they are still very attached culturally to their heritage and find it offensive that anyone from one group or the other might take any liberties whatsoever at proselytizing the other groups members, and accusations of this fly thick and fast on occasion. The division between the two groups traditionally goes back to the death of Mohammed and the disagreements surrounding who was to have taken his place as leader of the religion which, as seems to be the case in most of these stories, was settled by violent action, thus creating an unbreachable schism between the groups forever. Iran, which used to be Persia, is Shiite, while most of the rest of the Muslim world is Sunni. This is part of the reason for the severe tensions within the Middle East itself, exclusive of any traumas imposed by other, non-Muslim, factors and nations, as Iran ramps up its nuclear weapons program. The Sunni Muslims see the Shiite Muslims as being heretical and it seems as if they would just as soon deal with some of them in a way similar to the methods employed by our early American forbears who dunked/drowned, hanged, torched, imprisoned, starved, tarred and feathered, etc., etc., anyone who deviated too greatly from the established norm of religious and governmental tolerance.

I have also been taking a quick peek at the Arabic language, although I am not going to be studying it, or attempting to do so, until I have mastered French. As I am singularly lacking in talent and drive in that direction, it will be quite sometime before I do more than merely glance at the books I have acquired, however just going through some of the vocabulary can be very enlightening. As I have looked through some of the more idiomatic (?) words and phrases used in the Arab speaking world, I have noticed that there are not any real equivalents to many of our ruder or more blunt English words and phrases. The Arab author of the particular book I have seen has used certain words that he assures the reader are approximate to the rude words in English, but he does not tranlate them, so anyone using them will not have any idea what they are actually saying should they be of a mind to try to express themselves rudely in Arabic. I think this is mean.

There are also words and phrases that do not have the same meanings in Arabic cultures that they do or do not hold within American culture with certain phrases taking on a much more serious connotation in Arabic than in English. This is also true in other languges as well and has led to some fairly serious misunderstandings both personal and political throughout human history, which is merely my observation as I think back to certain political fiascoes of the past hundred years, or so.

So far, this is the extent of my self-education on the Middle East, although I am trying to keep up more with the current events side of things as the election debacle and ensuing violence and the nuclear issues in Iran continue to unfold.

I once met someone from Iran. He was nice but talked far too much about how people of Persian descent often had blue or green eyes (I have green eyes but am of French, English, and German descent. I have also been told the same thing about people of Isreali descent.) and then he went on to describe some romantic dish made with chicken and pomegranite seeds or something like that. I thought it was a little obvious and a little silly, but he was a friend of my parents and I did not want to offend him, so I did not say much of anything.

So much for my forays into international circles. Sigh!

Hopefully, things will be resolved in the Middle East before any part of it ends up glowing in the dark for the next thousand years. It would be wonderful if people could just for a moment, forget their reasons for hating one another and think of more reasons to get along instead. Perhaps this would add the needed desperation to efforts at peace that have always been so lacking.

Love and Best Wishes,
Izzlebug

Whew!

Made it, once again. My surgery on June 9th went very well and my recovery has been far less eventful and far less painful than my prior two surgeries. I have also been getting back in touch with people I did not have the energy to keep up with during the first phases of my cancer journey, so I have been doing most of my writing there instead of here.

This entry is titled "Whew!" for a variety of reasons (which will become evident as it unfolds) the least of which is that I am relieved to find that it is still possible to have an orgasm even with some of the equipment missing. It is different to some extent; still good, just different. I remember asking a friend who had a hysterectomy several years ago about this issue and she assured me it was, indeed, possible, but I needed to ascertain the fact for myself. There does not seem to be any problem that way and further recovery should make things even more possible, so no worries there. This is recorded publically in the interests of other females who might have similar concerns regarding their own pending surgeries. I hope it helps.

Another reason for the chosen title of today's blog is that it is always a relief to just wake up after having had surgery! I find that as I age I feel more and more vulnerable where medical issues are concerned, especially the issue of surgery. I am grateful to live where the medical staff and facilities are as good as they are. I feel very fortunate to have such good care available to me and to my loved ones and friends as well. It is a tremendous comfort and one not discussed often enough. I really wonder how many of us truly appreciate the level of medical care we have access to in this nation? I wish I knew how to say "thank you" more eloquently.

I am still hoping to have surgery to restore my breasts, and remain "flat" in the interim, but it will be at least until around the end of November or some time in December before that can be pursued due to the infection and the surgery to remove the tissue expanders, etc. Perhaps it will be a "Merry Christmas to me" gift if I am able to have the necessary surgery by then. I only hope there will be no further troubles of the sort already experienced and, in the meantime, have to admit to feeling somewhat deformed, too altered to feel entirely normal with myself yet not disfigured enough to feel quite as sorry for myself as I suppose others might under similar circumstances. At least (I hope, I hope, I hope!) I am cancer-free for the time being, and have only the possiblity of chemo still pending to cause a dark spot in an otherwise brighter future. I'll find out more about that this coming Monday when I see the medical oncologist again.

We went out and had supper with friends this evening and may do something tomorrow as well. This weekend I am hoping to have lunch with Dad and my step-mother in order to deliver a Father's Day card and an anniversary card since they will be going away for the week to celebrate their wedding anniversary together. As much as I love my step-mom, it still is a lonely feeling now and then to know that my own mother, and now a younger sister, are both gone. The older I get the emptier the world feels, although it is so full one wonders how it can feel empty at all!

I hope all who wander this way are having happier times and experiences. May your lives be more blessed in every way than mine has been, and it has been very blessed in more ways than I can ennumerate here.

Love,
Izzlebug

Back To Earth

It has been ages since I have managed to get back to people who have been trying to get in touch to see how I've been doing over the past few weeks. Fortunately, there are other lines of communication open so they knew I was still alive, but there is something very satisfying in hearing directly from someone rather than merely about them, so yesterday I finally managed to email a friend who has been trying to call for quite awhile during this time of my not feeling like dealing with much more than I absolutely had to and then, this evening, I also called my brother back, who I had not realized was really very concerned about me and not hearing back from me all this time.

Mike sounded really tired. I hope I am able to see him sometime soon. It has been several weeks now that I have been able only to speak with him on the phone instead of seeing him to take him out to lunch and chat. I hope his health has not been in some sort of a decline while I have been trying to get through all of this surgery and other stuff. My niece's Dad lost his Mom the other day and, although she did not know her "other" grandmother very well, I am sure the loss will register over time. It seems our extended family, not just our immediate one, cannot make it through life with only one crisis in tow at a time. My heart's prayers, right now, are that Mike's health is not at the point where we may have to say another much too early "good-bye" yet again. We are all too well acquainted with grief.

After another day of resting the change in medication seems to have had the needed/hoped for effect in that the fevers and chills cycle that seemed to be developing has ceased and I am feeling much, much better. It's such a relief to realize it was "only" the medication rather than an infection the medication was not addressing! Huge relief on that front, now on to the rest - next surgery, June 9th (at present).

To Mike

You had the most beautiful brown eyes
Bigger than eternity in your small, handsome face
The curiosity and wonder
Brightening the color and expression
As your great mind grasped hold of so much more
Than your older sister's far simpler brain could manage
You saw the Universe through different eyes
Understood God in different ways
And knew I was worth the time to encourage
To read some of your favorite books
Although you seemed determined to always
Keep me in a lower place
At least that was how it seemed to me
It seems the roles are somewhat reversed these days
I would welcome a return
If I knew you could be whole again
My younger brother with the mind of wonder and fury
And your intelligence that always left me
Feeling an awe I cannot, even now, fully express.

The Rest of the Lessons

I managed to track down the two remaining stories I liked and wanted to share here with anyone who might wander this way. I thought about being coy and just leaving the points I wanted to bring out hidden within the text of the first, but have decided to italicize instead, since the point I felt the story makes is not the punchline but found within the body of the joke itself. I also discovered that both of my favorite tales are really quite popular and have already received quite a lot of attention on many, many sites on the internet already - it's good to know I am not the only one with a sense of humor or (I hope!) the perspective I am hoping to convey here:

IS HELL ENDOTHERMIC OR EXOTHERMIC?

Dr. Schambaugh, of the University of Oklahoma School of Chemical Engineering, Final Exam question for May of 1997. Dr. Schambaugh is known for asking questions such as, "why do airplanes fly?" on his final exams. His one and only final exam question in May 1997 for his Momentum, Heat and Mass Transfer II class was: "Is hell exothermic or endothermic? Support your answer with proof."

Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following:

"First, We postulate that if souls exist, then they must have some mass. If they do, then a mole of souls can also have a mass. So, at what rate are souls moving into hell and at what rate are souls leaving? I think we can safely assume that once a soul gets to hell, it will not leave.
Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for souls entering hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Some of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, then you will go to hell. Since there are more than one of these religions and people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all people and souls go to hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in hell to increase exponentially.
Now, we look at the rate of change in volume in hell. Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in hell to stay the same, the ratio of the mass of souls and volume needs to stay constant. Two options exist:

1. If hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter hell, then the temperature and pressure in hell will increase until all hell breaks loose.
2. If hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until hell freezes over.

So which is it? If we accept the quote given to me by Theresa Manyan during Freshman year, "that it will be a cold night in hell before I sleep with you" and take into account the fact that I still have NOT succeeded in having sexual relations with her, then Option 2 cannot be true...Thus, hell is exothermic."

The student, Tim Graham, got the only A.


A Talk With God
A man was taking it easy, laying on the grass and looking up at the clouds. He was identifying shapes when he decided to talk to God.
"God", he said, "how long is a million years?"
God answered, "In my frame of reference, it's about a minute."
The man asked, "God, how much is a million dollars?"
God answered, "To me, it's a penny."
The man then asked, "God, can I have a penny?"
God answered, "In a minute."

I hope the humor as well as the profundity I have found in these stories is also evident to any others reading them here. May you also be blessed by them as I feel I have been in that the lessons in forgiveness and tolerence, Divine perspective versus that of the merely human, does seem to shine through in these three short tales - at least for me.

The cardinal is calling his territorial area in the backyard, guarding ahead of time his nestlings and mate who may not yet be present. He is a bright glint of red in an ever more beautiful Spring and the bright sun and blue sky also gladen the day with their warmth, light, and call to freedom from the merely earth-bound. My spirit may soar even if my feet must remain firmly attached here on our small planet; our small plot of land floating in its endless universe alone. Surely that fact alone should be enough to convince us to put down the guns and bombs and choose to embrace one another as brothers and sisters instead of constantly bickering enemies always searching for more reasons to continue to hate one another.

Izzlebug

P.S. Instead of finding reasons to condemn today, which are very easy to come by, try to find reasons to forgive, reasons to grant clemency, a reason not to kill, not to demand power, not to give in to the fear or a vicious religious dogma that would take the life of someone who is loved and rend your own soul in the process as well. Curse them, if you must, but leave them corporeally unharmed and allow yourself to wake up tomorrow knowing that salvation is still possible and they are truly in the hands of God Himself instead of beyond all hope and redemption.

A Couple of Modern Homilies

A man living in a small town that had become suddenly flooded was forced to seek refuge upon the roof of his house. During the time he was there he prayed almost continuously to God to come and rescue him. During the course of his prayers he heard a thump against the side of the house and, looking over the edge, saw a small boat with a life jacket rocking gently in the flood waters. He debated whether to get into the boat, but decided it would be too dangerous. Besides, God was going to rescue him, of that he was certain. He had faith. Later on, perhaps an hour or so, while the flood waters climbed slowly higher, a police launch happened by filled with people heading for safety. The driver of the launch got as close to the man's house as he could and encouraged him to climb aboard. The man thought about it and decided it would be too dangerous to try to board the launch with the rising flood waters raging beneath him, so he declined saying, "No thank you. I know that God is going to rescue me and He wouldn't place me in such danger to do so. So I'll wait." The police launch left the man behind, getting all of its passengers to safety. The flood was now reaching critical stage and the man barely had any roof left to stand upon and he was becoming frantic in his prayers. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, he saw a helicopter appear over him. The crew lowered the basket for the man to get into but, again, it seemed to hazardous an undertaking, so he declined the help, stating as before his belief that God was going to rescue him. The helicopter crew persisted, however, and spent close to an hour trying to convince the man to come aboard before they had to leave because they were running out of fuel. The man, left thus alone, sat praying and saying to himself, "Surely God will not let me die here. He will come and rescue me." The flood waters swirled and peaked, overwhelming the roof of the man's house and sweeping him into a vortex of incredible power. He was dead in moments. It was some time later, he did not know how long, that the man awakened to find himself in Heaven at the proverbial Pearly Gates and in the presence of none other than God Himself. God said, "Welcome, my son!" The man replied, "God how come you let me drown in that flood? I was so certain you were going to rescue me!" God replied, "My son, I tried. I sent you a rowboat, a police launch, and a rescue helicopter."(author unknown)

There are a couple of other little tales that I feel have merit as modern homilies that I want to track down and include here. None are original to me but because I am recording more from memory than a more usual resource they will appear in a somewhat altered state. This is not a deliberate attempt on my part to usurp the intellectual property of another or to plagerize on someone else's writing. Because of the wisdom I have found within the humor in the above story, as well as the other two I still want to share here, I am going to risk the dearth of accurate information and hope someone will send me the necessary information as to original authors, etc. if I am unable to track it down on my own. All of the stories have to do with the perspectives from which we choose to view God and poke a little fun at the thought of how God, perhaps, may choose to view us.

Blessings and much love,
Izzlebug

When The Cure May Be Worse Than The Disease

Last night was not much fun as we landed in the emergency room again for several hours. At least this time I got to head home instead of being admitted to the hospital. The problem, likely caused by the antibiotic I was on for the infection in my chest area, was that I keep spiking fevers, which then break in floods of sweating only to start all over again once I've cooled down. Apparently sulfa drugs can do this sometimes - a good thing to take note of for future reference - and I have been placed on a different antibiotic and am waiting hopefully (while sweating rather profusely at the moment) for the symptoms to subside. All of the blood work and cultures have come back negative so far this time, so maybe the change in medication is all that is necessary - I'm crossing my fingers that this is the case!

On other fronts, I noticed that MSN had an article about the terrible dearth of health care available to women in Iraq due to gender issues. This is fundamentalism gone haywire and, much like the Christian fundamentalism that encourages similar outrages here in the United States, really needs to stop - a project of many years, if not decades, I am sure. Everything that does not, or absolutely refuses to, evolve, whether a society, a culture, a religion, or an organism, is doomed to extinction with a lot of very painful contortions along the way. I truly hope the Muslim population of the Middle East is able to make this transition into modernity with fewer casualties than it seems they are currently experiencing.

It seems unconscionable that one nation, specifically the US, should have such good health care and low infant mortality rates, while there are other nations with so many difficulties keeping the mothers alive much less the infants and where health care seems to be directed more by religious dogma and prejudice than common sense and necessity. The religious leaders in these places need to take a long, hard look at the grave disservice they are doing to their nations and the people who follow them by promoting ignorance and fear. I am not advocating a wholesale - or rapid - change into a US type of democracy in order to advance better health care, but the rules that forbid male-female contact within a medical context to the point of costing lives and the villifying of those who choose to pursue careers in the health care industry really needs to stop!

In saying all of this I can imagine how frightening it must be to look ahead from a place of tradition and a known set of rules and see things that appear so foreign and threatening to one's beliefs, especially when those threats come robed in the hope of better lives and better health care. I also know that hospitals can get to be pretty frisky places on occasion - stress will do that to a person's mind - and that does not help the situation either. However, and I put this question to the religious leaders of the Middle East, would you rather allow proper and expert health care and then have to deal with the potentially resulting crises of conscience following, or continue to bury more mothers, infants, and children than you need to due to a refusal to deal with your own humanity? Keep your hands and souls tied so tightly there is no hope of a very real and possible salvation of lives or allow just enough of a relaxation of the rules and traditions to permit the health care that is so crucial to the well-being of your nations to take place unhampered? It is part of the evolving thing. Yes, it is something of a trade off and I am sure more of a compromise than most fundamentalists of any faith would choose to make, yet I am talking entire nations of people - millions of people - and not merely a few select individuals. What is best, in the long term, for those millions?

My heart goes out to the Middle Eastern nations as they struggle with such issues, especially the religious ones, as I have had some small experiences struggling in that area myself (fundamental, born-again, etc., etc., Christianity) and I know how difficult it is on a personal level to deal with your own imperfections and struggles in the face of a perfect and obdurate diety who seems to require everything and delivers little or nothing very tangible in a humanly real sense (I am not advocating apostasy, merely grousing my grouse about the seeming lack of miraculous happenings from on high). I also have had my struggles with the miseries of this life and the "hope" of the life to come (i.e. "heaven"), although those have largely ceased in that I have found both my Heaven and my Hell here on this earth. All of my worst moments and deepest pains have taken place here, yet I have also found my Heaven here as well. The blessings of a beautiful day, the delicacy of color and markings of the New England birds visiting our deck, the wild flowers blooming along the highways the irridesence found in the wings of the tiniest of insects, the detail and intricate construction of the leaf of a tree or a blade of wild grass or the petal of a flower, the love of those whom I cherish, the smile of my niece when she finds something I've said funny, seeing the care and concern given to the patients in the hospital primarily by the nursing and support staff during my recent stays there; all of these things convince me that, at least for me, my Heaven is to be found here and I want no other.

Perhaps, as I refuse to place my hopes on an intangible something that remains forever nebulous, perhaps that does make me apostate, but it cannot cause me to be any less grateful to the God who created the things that populate my Heaven. Nor can it diminish the power of the love I have given and, in turn, received over the years, the pain that comes from having loved so much when loss is experienced, or the hope that same love gives as healing takes place and the sun begins to brighten once again following pain. Perhaps I am one of the fools who "rush in where angels fear to tread," but I am seldom sorry I have ventured forth into such places of the heart and mind.

I wonder what St. Augustine might have had to say...

Izzlebug