Tardy Again!

I guess paperwork, phone calls and appointments are a lot more distracting than I realized since I have ignored my blog for almost a full month - yet again. However, things seem to be calming down a bit in that arena and I feel I have little more time for thinking than before since my return from Arizona. It was good to get home, despite the aforementioned paperwork, etc., and I enjoyed being with boyfriend and cats once again. There is also a lot to be said for sleeping in your own bed again, too.

It turned out I was wrong about all of the cacti being ready to bloom in October. They had already finished that, and what I thought were buds were actually fruit, so I did not get to see the profusion of blossoms I was hoping for, but I learned a little something more about the southwest. It also looks as though I may get to return there for a few more days this month as the result of a very sad event that initially took place about twenty years ago but is still going on today.

Sometime in about 1985, our grandmother (actually our mother's step-mother) lost her way on a winding desert road and then disappeared into the desert. Her car was found but she has not yet been located. On the 21st of this month the Cochise County Sheriff's Office will be conducting another search of the area where she disappeared. They will be looking for our grandmother in addition to searching for someone else, I do not know who the other individual is, and my sister and I will likely be at the command post while the search progresses hoping they find our grandmother so we can bring her home to be buried next to our grandfather in the small desert cemetary in Pearce, Arizona where the retirement community of Sunsites is located and where our grandparents lived happily together for many years. My sister has invited me down to be there on the day the search takes place and, barring any unforeseen complications, I will be there.



It occurs to me that we actually have a rather interesting family history considering all of the disappearances, murders, and such that have taken place, not to mention the medical issues that continue to effect each of our lives while this other stuff goes on. I am not sure I would know what to do with a less eventful life at this point, although it would definitely require more in the way of creative effort on my part to write about it and try to make it interesting.

For the time being, things are stable. Mike is just Mike. The emphysema worsens a little more with each passing year and each cigarette, but he is still with us for which I am grateful. My niece and nephew are both doing well and growing up so fast and so beautifully I find it not only hard to keep up but also very difficult to not burst with pride at how handsome and how beautiful they are. My grandmother is celebrating her ninety-first birthday soon and we are all preparing for holidays that do not look like they will likely be marred by tragedy, but we never know for certain and can only hope fervently we will have much to be grateful for following the passing of the season. Most importantly there is still a lot of love, a lot of caring and concern, and a lot of joy to be had for all of us as we spend the next several weeks hoping, praying, and planning for truly happy holidays. This year we do not look too much to world events, although we are aware of them, as it is a time for our families to focus upon one another after all of the difficulties of the past. We are truly blessed and this holiday season will, I hope, bring that fact home to all of us more than ever.

May all of your holidays and gatherings be blessed as well.

Izzlebug

Hello From Sunny Arizona!

Hi! My younger sister (she-who-declines-to-be-named-in-my-blog) and her significant other very generously invited me to spend a couple weeks recovery time with them in Arizona. They had all sorts of sky miles saved up , so my tickets were free, and my sister had other business in New England so she came up and flew back with me. The difference in weather and terrain is so great as to make the initial experience seem a little surreal, but Arizona with its variety of succulents and flowers, mesquites and Palo Verdes, is rapidly becoming familiar as we drive around and I am able to take in the sights and sounds (and sometimes odors!) of this desert that is coming alive with its unfamiliar infestation of humanity. The above reference to odor is due to the moment I opened the car door and was hit full in the face with the scents of one (or many) of the stockyards that surround the Phoenix area. It smelled as though the desert had been both biologically and socially indiscreet, although that is not the way I initially phrased it to my traveling companions. So far that has been the only real negative to the experience, which has been very enjoyable thus far.

It is interesting to see the differences in approach to highway construction/landscaping/decoration here as opposed to the New England area. While in New England there is landscaping and areas set aside for fields of wild flowers, in Arizona there are entire areas of walls and embankment that have been decorated after the fashion of Native American-style art works. As you drive through the area there are the most intriguing pictographs of dragonflies and Gila monsters; geometric designs abound and designs clearly Native American in inspiration are placed so as to be visible from the air as well as from the ground, as I was able to tell upon my initial arrival at the Phoenix Airport.

I have so much enjoyed seeing all the different types of cactus that grow in the area, most of which appear to be native. The saguaros are really interesting and, as my sister explained that they do not branch until they reach an advanced age of fifty, or so, I have developed an increased appreciation and respect for the "branchier" members of this group of cacti. Many of the other cacti species are getting ready to bloom, there are buds everywhere, and I am hoping some of them will blossom while I am here. If not, I will ask my sister to email me some pictures of the coming events as they unfold. I have lost count of the number of varieties of cacti and other types of succulents that grow so readily here, but there are many of great beauty that I wish I could somehow safely transport back home with me to create a little oasis of desert in the middle of the austere New England winter as a souvenir of my visit here.

My sister and her boyfriend have a lovely home with a small pool out back, which I got to soak in yesterday. I don't think I have felt that relaxed in ages, floating under the Arizona sky with the gentle sun on my face, which did not scorch one inch of my pale and pasty New England complexion! It was wonderful just floating there and wishing I could go on floating there for a much longer time than I had to float in yesterday, so I may take some time to do so today although my sister will scold if I do so while no one else is home. (Sigh, sigh, sigh!)

In the meantime, I very much miss my boyfriend and kitties all suffering October in less temperate climes and will be glad to fly home, but will sigh for this weather for awhile after getting back. It really is lovely here.

Last night we went to a free concert at Phoenix College given by the Phoenix College Community Orchestra. It was in celebration of Halloween and all of the members of the orchestra were dressed in various costumes of their own choosing. The music, commentary, and some really bad jokes were all in keeping with the theme and it was a very enjoyable experience. The music was well played with few glitches (not that I am qualified to note an orchestral glitch should one occur) and the evening thoroughly fun with punch and cookies afterward.

This is my visit so far, aside from a visit to one of the local establishments to purchase replacement breasts (temporary) which my sister and a large number of others have been encouraging me to do since the initial surgeries last spring. I'll admit it has not been on the top of my priority list but more due to the chemo steamrolling everything else than to my not wanting to deal with it. There have also been some difficulties insurance-wise but mostly I have just been too pooped from the chemo.

So I will return to New England a little more "whole" than I left it, or at least with the appearance of being so, and will resume my life there but not without a brief sigh (or many) for the lovely weather and vistas I leave behind me in Arizona.

Blessings and peace to all.

Izzlebug

Finally, The Last Chemo!

Although it has been better than a week since my last chemotherapy, I can still feel the relief of having the four cycles completed. It will be good to rest up after all of that and try to get back to more normal things, like growing hair, again. Whatever else may not have changed the entire experience of the surgeries and chemo, as well as the treatment yet to come that will take place over the next five years, has given me an appreciation for life and good health I feel I had not fully developed before. It will also be good not to feel as tired and worn as this experience has left me thus far.

Of course, given my family's history, my last treatment had to go out with a bang and it ended up being delayed by a week while I took large doses of antibiotics to overcome a respiratory infection. Afterwards it turned out I was still sick, respiratory-wise as well as chemo-wise, and I was placed on another antibiotic for a week "just to make sure." I will finish that up in a couple of days and then, hopefully, will be fully recovered - or at least as fully recovered as I can be for the moment. Being sick is a royal pain.

Again, there is so much going on around me that I am not sure what to write about but, as it has been for the past several months, necessity has forced my attentions more to me than they otherwise would have been, and I feel as if I have lost track of so much!

One thing that has proven very interesting, as well as worrying, has been the spate of books and information coming out in regards to Iran and their nuclear weapons program. I sincerely hope compromises and agreements can be reached with a minimum of misunderstandings and anger in this very perilous and serious situation. I also wish I had a greater understanding of the situation but, if I did, I would likely still feel I did not know enough.

This morning a horrible crime was discovered in a small town not far from here. A mother and her young daughter were brutally attacked in their home. The mother was murdered and the little girl, though expected to survive, was seriously injured with massive quantities of bones broken. This is the news the husband must have received by now. He has been out of the country on business. The connection of my family to this town is very familiar in that Patty and her two children used to live there and may have known the child and her parents. Though I never made my home there, I still feel shock and grief at what has happened and sincerely hope and pray the murderers are tracked down and in custody very, very soon.

It is late and that is all I can recall off the top of my head, although I know there is, as always, much more news than that to be discussed, thought of, and concerned about.

I also hope anyone who may have been reading my blog at all will forgive me for my neglect - I have had to attend to other issues over the time that has elapsed but am hoping to start writing in my blog at more regular intervals again soon.

Blessings and peace,
Izzlebug

Marching On

Things seem to get backed up, somehow. Or, perhaps, that is not the right word, perhaps "crowded together, all at once" or "bottlenecked" might be better descriptions, but it has happened over the past few days to me, in a manner of speaking. Perhaps it is just news overload. Case in point; a small boy from this area has died after falling from a third floor window, the released journalists' claims make one wonder just how complicit at least the local governments of that part of China and North Korea may be in the human trafficking the women were investigating, Michael Jackson's family has finally been able to lay him to rest (I am glad they chose Forest Lawn), the more we learn about the universe the more hazardous our existence seems to become, Afghanistan is becoming akin to a funeral pyre, and now they have discovered a way to deep fry butter (gag!). Perhaps the way to deal with all of this is to discuss it here, thereby letting go of it; setting it free, in a manner of speaking.

First up is the five-year-old boy who died because he was doing what children do - testing his boundries while his Mom was busy somewhere else. I cannot imagine the intensity of the pain and loss that family is going through right now even though pain and loss are not unknown in our neck of the woods. My heart goes out to them all.

Next is the issue of North Korea's kidnapping of the two female journalists from Chinese soil with the cooperation of their Chinese guide. It is obvious there are many particulars here that are unknown, but I am not disinclined to believe what these women have had to say. Nor is it beyond imagination to realize that the local governments, at least, were complicit in the kidnapping and may have done it in an attempt to prevent the story of human trafficking in the area from being more fully revealed. I'm afraid I feel rather cynical here which is definitely coloring my perspective, however both North Korea and Chine need to make sure the local bureaucrats are not taking advantage too seriously of any autonomy they may have or feel they have, it does not look good for either group if they want to continue to be taken seriously on an international level.

The reason I mention Michael Jackson at all is due to the fact that it is not often such a delay occurs between memorial service and interment, although it is not unheard of, and the reason I am glad his family chose Forest Lawn over Neverland Ranch has to do more with my distaste for those who would desecrate his grave in order to take some piece of him away as a souvenir, which I find rather loathsome although I keep some of my mother's hair in my possession to be buried with me when that time arrives, so I do understand the sentiment attached to such mementos. I think his family will be able to rest more easily with Michael in a more secure spot and, as their peace of mind is of the most import right now, I personally feel they made the only right choice. They will also be able to have more privacy this way if and when they choose to visit the site. ENOUGH of the gawking people!

As if all of this local and national news is not enough to try our patience and frazzle our nerves, we continue to learn how we are surrounded by galaxies each centered by an enormous and deadly black hole, to include the enormous and deadly black hole at the center of our own galaxy! Goody! No one seems to want to interrupt this amazing flow of knowledge with any rhetoric about the fact that this earth has always been in that particular circumstance, that without the black holes it is likely that the galaxies could not exist in their terrifying and stunning beauty in the first place, and that there is not one blessed thing any of us can do about it except to perhaps allow ourselves one brief moment of cosmic level fear and, for those of us who do not wet ourselves during said moment, taking a deep breath and then getting back to our lives. I realize most people do not allow themselves to become so worked up about this that they literally panic, but such are the weaknesses of the species I feel obliged to rant about the issue at least once here in my blog.

I have also been wondering, as I hear of all of this via our ever expanding communications media, if "they" are correct about the light from far flung galaxies being as old as it is by the time we see it here on earth because if, as they proffer, its true that gravity effects the passage of time (A), and (B) that there is little or very disparate gravity between us and these galaxies (i.e. "space"), perhaps the time-lapse is faster moving than light speed where the gravity does not affect it??? This would mean there may not be a difference of quite so many years between us and the sources of light from distant galaxies. I also wonder if the problems with Einstein's Relativity Theory isn't more a matter of some missing exponential equation or component rather than not actually applying to things too subatomic for it but, as I am a history and English major and have very little knowledge of such things, I must merely be left to wonder rather than to ever really know, besides if I knew everything I would not be able to stand myself and would likely consider myself the most intolerable bore of my acquaintance, so it's just as well the way it stands.

Jumping from the cosmic to the merely international is not some feeble attempt on my part to denigrate the issues or importance of what has been taking place in Afghanistan over the past several days. People are dying, the Taliban is likely responsible for the majority of the deaths, just as they are blatantly and consciencelessly responsible for intimidating women and voters, and it seems unlikely that this nation will ever be capable of emerging from their primitive mindset into one of more modern tolerance and progressive thinking and action, which may have its bad points but is, overall, a true positive when given the current circumstances the country exists with and faces for decades yet to come. How many more of its people must Afghanistan lose before it finally realizes the resources and treasures that have been lost, destroyed by religious intolerance and base ignorance? It would also do well for those perpetrating all of these crimes against their own people to question whether their motives are not merely fodder for the plans of others who may be manipulating the situation from on high, never getting dirty or into danger themselves, and seemingly supportive of the simpler reasonings that often populate the minds of those at the lowest ranks of these situations, but whose primary interests actually have absolutely nothing to do with those motivations and will, ultimately, betray those working for them anyway. It's called government, diplomacy, politics and profits.

Finally, we come to perhaps the most tragic news of the day - deep-fried butter. Just the sound of it is artery-clogging. Don't we have anything better to do than find even more ways to destroy our health or kill ourselves? If certain religious groups who hate the United States will just have a little more patience they should have an entire nation with intact infrastructure (sort of) to inherit just as soon as the last of us keel over from hardening of the arteries.

There you have my rants but, at least on my end, the bottleneck no longer is a problem and I breathe easier having dissipated my burden sufficiently to any readers who happen this way in cyberspace. Hopefuly whatever is keeping your attentions focused is less problematic and just as easily resolved.

Blessings and peace despite any potentially cataclysmic events we have been hovering on the edge of for the past hundreds of thousands of years.

Izzlebug

Time Flies

Its hard to believe that I have played blog-hookie for more than a month! I guess the chemo really has affected me more than I realized. I knew I just didn't feel as up to many things as usual but, over all, the effects have been mild - for chemo. The proof lies here, however, and my sadly neglected blog is that proof.

This morning I head off for the third of four chemotherapy treatments, so I am feeling pretty perky right now but will likely not be so lively a little later on today. I will also probably spend most of the next two days sleeping off the initial effects however the side effects are not anything like the horror stories I have heard from so many people and I feel very fortunate to be having such an easy time of it in comparison to so many others who suffer greatly while trying to eradicate their cancers. I am also bald, basically, which has been oddly freeing in its way, but also oddly uncomfortable and, as with the breasts, I want my hair back ASAP, too.

It is a bright, crisp morning here in New England and the sun is shining gloriously from a beautiful, blue sky. There is the sound of a small plane in the distance, the kitty fountain is playing its tune, but there are no sounds from the birds right now and I assume they are off in the woods somewhere getting their breakfasts. The house is quiet. The cats have found warm spots and hidden themselves as this is the first really chilly morning we have had for quite awhile and it feels good. A small dog barks in the distance and I know I have to be off getting ready for the days scheduled events. Perhaps I will be able to get a few phone calls taken care of and some paperwork accomplished while I have my chemo today, although the time does not seem to pass that slowly despite the lengthy spans needed in order to deliver the various drugs required prior to the chemo as well as the toxins themselves. The nurses are kind and at least I am able to eat, which a lot of other patients cannot manage, so I will have lunch to look forward to as well. For a treatment for an unpleasant medical reality things do not go so badly for the most part and I feel very fortunate.

Blessings on all who wander here. May your lives be more fortunate, happier, healthier, wealthier, and in every way better than what I have right now. If these things are so, I know the world is a happier and more peaceful place than we realize, as my life is blessed despite its negative aspects.

Love,
Izzlebug

Henry Louis Gates and the Cambridge Police - Peace is in the Offing

As I read and hear more about the incident involving Prof. Gates ot Harvard University and his arrest on charges of disorderly conduct by the Cambridge Police Department I have become drawn in despite my dislike of such issues. During the time this has been in the news I thought Prof. Gates looked very familiar somehow and, leave it to me, I placed that recognition in a negative context before actually recalling the circumstances; I had seen him narrate a show on television dealing with the use of DNA as a tool for genealogical research. The moment I realized that was where I had seen him before the entire incident changed perspective and has gone, in my mind, from a very negative and potentially publicity seeking event into a tragic (fortunately not in the worst sense) event that was difficult not only on Prof. Gates but the responding officers as well.

Imagine the chagrin and humiliation Prof. Gates must have felt upon being confronted at his own home by the police when he is a man very likely unused to such embarrassments and socially questionable confrontations. (This IS all assumption on my part, so if it sounds like braying, well...) Imagine the disquiet and chagrin of the responding police officers at finding someone who they realized must normally be a very soft-spoken and calm individual so upset he was unable to contain his own paranoia - much of which they themselves could understand, too. It sounds as if the situation has played itself out in the best way possible in that the incident has calmed down and charges have been dropped, but they do raise some points that still need desperately to be addressed in our nation, that being the question of persons of non-caucasion origin being treated less than fairly by a legal system that, despite the incorporation of multi-ethnic officers and politicians, still predominantly over-incarcerates those of non-caucasion origins.

It also must have crossed Prof. Gates' mind that his friend, as in "Mr. President," would surely hear of this and his embarrassment must have been acute. Although seemingly inappropriate politically, I am glad our sitting president came to the defense of his friend. Were he a friend of mine I would like to think he would do as much for me as well.

I also applaud the Cambridge police officers for their handling of the situation. Often times it is difficult for an officer to know how an individual is going to behave in any given circumstance and they are trained to control the situation, which they did as quietly and discretely as possible. Unfortunately it was already too late to save Prof. Gates from the embarrassment he has suffered, but hopefully he will come to understand that his being so upset likely left the officers with little or no choice in the matter.

I just hope when the arresting officer, Prof. Gates, and Pres. Obama meet at the White House, they are able to relax in one anothers' company as well as forge ahead with some new ideas about what to do to help remedy some of the inequalities that still exist under a system of law so dedicated to equality.

Blessings and Peace,
Izzlebug

Normalcy Fills The Void

Tonight I looked at a photo of Patty and my niece together, smiling. Patty was wearing one of her chemo scarves and my niece's eyes looked sad even though she was smiling for the camera and her Mom. I realized then that I had not felt that stabbing grief, that vast loneliness and emptiness for quite sometime; normalcy had crept slowly and inexorably back in and filled the void in my heart and mind where Patty's life used to take precedence. The areas that were filled by my relationship with my younger sister, left so achingly and devastatingly empty upon her demise, had been slowly filled again by life, mine, my niece and nephews', my other sister's, my brother, my boyfriend, the cats, and so on. It was after I saw this that I once again felt the grief I had not noticed missing until that moment of reflection. And so I write.

It initially started with the sensation of unreality as I looked at Patty's picture and experienced a feeling almost as if she had never even been here, that brought about the realization that the normal and everyday had packed the wounds and forced a healing that would have seemed indecent somehow if it had been a calculated and deliberate action or decision but was never either of those things. The memories needed little encouragement from that point and there we were, with more writing material than I wanted or anticipated and fond, sad thoughts of a sister whose vitality and vivacity gave more to my life than I can truly express in mere words. I must live what Patty's life gave me or it will never be communicated properly.

One of the venues for that communication is with my niece who, I think, objects to what she sees as "mothering" from me without understanding that all I am doing is "aunting" her. It does not help that I may also remind her of her Mom in ways neither of us is fully concious of on a day to day basis. My voice may sometimes sound like her Mom's, my profile, my mannerisms, some of my funny quirks of speech or expression - Patty and I were sisters, and I can only hope that my niece's relationship with her older half-sister will somehow grant her the understanding of how close that relationship can make you whether you intend it to or not. It is something born of a lifetime of relationship and genetic familiarity and not easily escaped. I also hope my niece will be able to forgive me for reminding her so much of her mother, it is very unconciously done.

Blessings and Love,
Izzlebug

The Spirit Is Willing...

My mind feels so full tonight, there are so many things I want to type about; Susan Boyle, President Obama's healthcare efforts, the day in general...I suspect I could make the list impossibly long fairly quickly so I will stop there.

I just finished listening to Susan Boyle's first performance at Britain's Got Talent on Youtube and it still stuns me. She has the most beautiful voice and she chooses the most beautiful songs, as well. I think the song "I Dreamed A Dream" speaks more to me than many others might at the moment due to the chemo and prior surgeries this past Spring - which is also why I am picking up on all of this at a later date than everyone else on the planet...

Be that as it may, her success has inspired me and, if I can somehow manage it, I want to take a few voice lessons again, just to see if I can get back in the swing of things, and maybe get involved in another choral group again. I know I cannot hope to begin to achieve the success of a Susan Boyle, but I could still get a lot of enjoyment from singing again, even if I sing bald. (Pity Party!)

Today brought new people into my life and new acts of kindness of which I was the recipient. It meant all the more to me because the attention was necessary only because of my own short-sightedness. I really felt so stupid at the events that transpired - nothing harmful, just dorky and annoying - but people were still very kind and helpful and understanding, making a crummy situation for me more tolerable. I also met an older couple who have been doing the chemo thing for ages. The "he" in the couple is the one getting treatments and he seemed so strong compared to how I have been feeling! He is on his sixth (I think that's what he said) treatment and I have just barely gotten past my first one! I am such a woose!!

I was also going to write an open letter to our President regarding the health care reform he is trying to enact, but it will have to wait until later as I am fading and need to rest for awhile. (I still want to answer those other questions, too! They are not forgotten.)

Blessings and peace,
Izzlebug

Let's Add Some More Confusion To The Mix

It occurred to me this evening, as I tried to settle down, a task made the more difficult by the side effects of the chemo treatment - I did survive afterall - and the ice cream I consumed too short a time ago, that the symptoms of my arhtritis coupled with the symptoms brought on by the chemotherapy are likely causing some confusion for the people who very kindly offer to help me in the grocery store who see me there but nowhere else. The chemo has added a lot of new, though seemingly minor, aches and pains that are more difficult to tolerate than the pains from the arthritis in knees and hip, but that have also changed the dynamic of the pain I normally deal with daily. There is also the fact that, not feeling well at all sometimes, I am getting more physical rest which helps lessen the arthritis pain and the chemo pain, but does not prevent such pain from regaining a foothold when I try to get up and about again. The part that must confuse others is that, from day to day, my pain can change and go from causing standing up to be excruciatingly painful to walking being the primary problem, although I think that may be more due to the chemo pain than the arthritis. There have been many times I have said with absolute conviction to others that the pain of standing up is the most painful part of my day, which it is on that day. It is also my most usual pain, in retrospect, but there are times I am able to stand up relatively free from that pain but then have difficulty with pain when walking. I recall mentioning this to my doctor and he said it is just the nature of the beast (so to speak) and fairly (my impression) typical of osteoarthritis. Of course, the chemo is now adding its own special brand of pain to the entire equation.

At least I can still taste the ice cream despite the chemo; french fries are almost a total bust, however, as is diet cola. I can't really eat anything too tart or acidic anymore because I find it is already starting to make my mouth a little sore and my appetite is capricious in ways I can hardly explain and find it difficult to cope with on a day to day basis. I know we'll get through all of this without going completely around the bend, but at the moment that feels debatable.

So much for the daily grouse session. I did get to see someone in the grocery store today that I had been meaning to call back for quite awhile. It is a woman who very kindly gave me a ride out to the hospital when my significant other was unavailable and I had no other way to get over there because of restrictions following surgery. It was really nice to be able to touch base and get caught up with her as well as to apologize for my not getting back to her during the interim period. If anyone understands about feeling overwhelmed by all of the surgeries and treatments, appointments and telephone calls inherent to this entire process, it is someone who has been there too, and she has. I am so grateful for the support and good, kind wishes of all of the women I have encountered, even if it has been for only a few moments, who have reached out to me during this time I am going through. I hope I am able to return at least as much to others as I encounter them along my path as well. The strength I have drawn from these meetings cannot be explained or easily expressed, nor can the beauty and bravery of these women I have met. God bless every one of them!

I am going to try to get out each day for at least a little while as I find that given too much time on my hands I start to dwell on the fact that I will be losing my hair in a little over a week. Me bald and shiny is not something I have ever had to contemplate before and I am not enjoying it now. I have all of my scarves (all new - I did not want to feel the stories behind used scarves) and my sun hat (critiqued by a friend who pronounced it the right hat for me) and my SPF100 sunblock. Now I wait for my greying locks to start coming out in strange clumps here and there while I debate whether it is better to look as if I have mange or just to go ahead and cut as much of the remaining hair off as possible; the second option is the most likely to be exercised, but I will cry.

It has also been pointed out to me that the chemo treatments will become more difficult to cope with each time, but my sister reminded me that I was already one down with "only" three more to go. I really wish someone would send me some lovely flowers or something, not that they would actually help but they might make me feel a little better for awhile - sigh, sigh, sigh!

It seems as if the rest of my life has been forced into a holding pattern by all of this other stuff. Where before my life was so full of pets and relatives, the life around me and my concerns for others; vast energies spent elsewhere, I am now forced by necessity to pay most of my attention in the direction of myself - yuch! (Well, maybe it's not that bad, but it still is not much fun!)

Perhaps I will begin to feel well enough to write some poetry or take a brief trip to some lovely spot I can report about here; try to grab back some of my life instead of letting the chemo completely take over everything. That should be a very healing thing I can actually manage to accomplish.

Blessings, good health, and peace.
Izzlebug

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

Another Load of Life

At last! I and my blog are together again! I am in raptures!

Not long after my last blog entry, things started to go downhill. By the 8th of May I had developed an infection (not of the surgical site) that caused a fever of 102.8F, and landed me in the hospital where, as it turned out, I also had an infection in the right side of my chest, although it was not the reason for the fever. I spent the weekend snuggled up to IV lines full of various antibiotics and then, on Tuesday, had to go in for surgery to remove the tissue expanders and the infection and to place drains into the area again. (One of my surgical drains had fallen out while I was in the ER - sigh!) I would like to note here that this is, according to my surgeons, an unusual occurance for this type of surgery so it would not be right to anticipate such things if anyone reading this might be approaching their own mastectomy surgery or surgeries. It was a combination of some confusions on my part, some miscommunication (not a lot, though), and adverse circumstances due to my own physical condition, weight issues, etc. I finally got to come home yesterday, after a nine-day hospital stay, and am feeling so much better!!!

A hospital can be both an interesting and a frightening place to be. With the advent of this infection and all that attended it, it felt as if all of the efforts, both counseling and medicinal, that have gone into helping me get my head together and my life on track, were blown completely out of the window for a day or two (or three or four!). It was no fun for me to have to revisit thoughts and emotions I had considered, with tremendous relief, as something now left in my past. It had never occured to me that the stresses from the surgeries and the infections and the hospital stays might put me back into a mind set I had struggled so hard to be free of, having failed to overcome on my own, and then, finally with the help of several people with the training and expertise to do so, was finally stepping away from and into a slowly growing anticipation for better things to come in my life. So that was yet another blow. Fortunately talking to some of the on-call people from the psychiatry department and the chaplains' office, as well as several very kind and understanding nurses, some long-suffering (young) physicians (and one mildly traumatized male nursing assistant who looked as though his grandmother had dropped her drawers in front of him), helped ease that difficulty and I feel little more myself, a little more back in control, but also a little more fragile in certain ways, than before this second episode in my saga of cancer and surgery took place.

Finally returning home was a treat like few others. Yes, all the clutter and mess are still here - I am not yet able to deal with it and my sweetie-pie's housekeeping skills, though very willing and energetic, are not quite from the same school mine developed in. The cats still urp on the rug and track litter, there are still book-eating beetles, flying, nasty, bitey, little bigs here and there, etc., etc., etc. But it is good to be back. Supposedly toddlers and pussycats do not retain certain types of memories for more more than a given span of time. This means that a young child whose mother goes away for two weeks will not necessarily recall her when she returns. With cats, this span of time is only supposed to be about a half an hour. I beg to differ, at least about the cats. All of our cats knew exactly who I was when I came in the door after nine days away. They all knew my voice. They all came over to say "Hello," and they certainly remembered their special "snuggle configurations" that we have developed over our years together. I will have to be more cautious this time around, take more precautions; I do not want to have to endure another infection right now, especially not with another surgery and the strong likelihood of chemotherapy looming. I am hoping that further treatment will proceed without any more complications so we may all put this episode behind us and get on with our lives. I also hope there is sunshine ahead, instead of clouds.

Hopefully, whatever the source of these infections, they will never recur and where ever I was exposed to them can be determined and dealt with before too many other people fall prey to them as I did. It is not so much the more private venues of potential exposure that worry me in that they are a little more under control than the more public venues. I was driving before I was supposed to be in order to make appointments I could not otherwise have gotten to and, during those excursions, stopped to run a brief errand, perhaps a quick stop at a local department store for a prescription or a local supermarket for a few easy-to-fix food items. I also had visiting nurses checking on me and the thought that any of those situations might have yielded an exposure to the organisms causing the problems I went through, or wondering if it was something lurking here at home, is a matter of concern. I certainly hope the contagion never got past me to anyone else.

It feels so good to be back at the keyboard and back at my blog, but I am going to wrap this one up now - it's already way too long!

Blessings, joy, peace, love, and commitments that do you good to all who find their way to my humble home.

Izzlebug

One Step At A Time

Though still stiff and sore following the surgery, I am doing a lot better. I am minus two breasts, ten lymph nodes (five from each side), and one three to four centimeter cancerous tumour. Due to the size of the thing I may still end up having to go through chemo but will not know absolutely for certain for several more days when I will be seeing the medical oncologist. I will also be having further surgery to remove ovaries and fallopian tubes as they are also falling victim to the same causes for the breast cancer. To say my life has not been much fun lately is understating things a bit, but there are some small compensations along the way such as friends calling to say a special "Hello," get well cards arriving at odd intervals, and my sweetie pie doing his utmost to help me out despite the total lack of fun in his own life at the moment ( a lot of that because of what's happening with me).

I am glad this happened with the advent of Spring instead of the grey of Winter. There is no ice to deal with when walking back and forth to the car and the flowers and trees blooming all over the place, as well as the bright return of the gold finches and other seasonal residents, has afforded me many enjoyable moments while traveling between home and hospital. Our families also seem to be in a state of reasonably good health and calm emotions for the interim which allows the two of us to concentrate upon dealing with the issues at hand.

"She-Who-Declines-To-Be-Named" has returned home with our niece after traveling many hours, and arduous journey across deserts and timelines, to be with me during the worst of this ordeal, and is hoping to return later on when the next surgery is closer at hand to spend some more time with me and with our niece. Our niece is usually quite happy to have her other auntie visit because, as she recently informed me, I am absolutely the "most boring" of all of her aunties. At least I will be remembered for something.

My activities are still limited because of waiting for the removal of surgical drains which have pretty much been grossing me out from the get go. Seeing the last of those will not cause me any regrets whatsoever although it will likely be quite awhile before I will be able to face a rare steak for dinner, especially a really juicy one.

I still find I am easily tired by not a lot of activity and that holding the telephone uses more chest muscles than one might expect. So I am napping often, sometimes due to the physical stresses but still once in a while due to the emotional stresses, but not as often as I was immediately following my surgery.

So much for that update. I wish I had more of interest to report but, as I am hoping to somehow provide some smattering of potentially useful information for others who may find themselves in similar circumstances, I plod on.

My brother called earlier today. He sounded weary, but cheerful. I think the loss of our younger sister and then my illness on top of that have taken more of a toll on him than we may realize. I only hope, not only for my sake but also for the sake of my family, that my recovery is full and uneventful. I really do not want to find out how much more we can take before we finally crumble into dust and blow away our tears all spent.

I.

Ouch!

Well, I made it through thanks to the skills of my surgeons, teams of wonderful, hard-working nurses and assistants, and the love and care of my friends and family. I will admit that typing is still a little uncomfortable for me though, so this will be brief.

For anyone else who may be approaching a similar experience to mine I would like to recommend they pamper themselves a little. Not too much, but just enough to help take some of the pressure and stress off during the pre-surgical waiting period. The extra pampaering afterwards helps a lot also.

I'll get back with more info, etc. as soon as being at the keyboard is more comfortable.

Hope any who happen this way are doing at least as well.

Izzlebug

A Day of Reckoning

This week is the week I will be having my surgery. Although I know that, in the long term, everything is likely to be just fine, it is the short term I find so difficult to confront right now. With the preparations for future plastic surgery procedures, I will likely be in the OR for around five hours, give or take, according to my surgeons and I am feeling the usual, and presumably "normal," pre-surgical jitters most people in like situations would tend to feel. This is a very stressful week for me, but I feel as if I am surrounded by the love of family and the best wishes of many friends and acquaintances and, if those of a more somber faith will forgive me the impertinence, have even managed to rate some very gentle attentions from God Himself, not only in the appearance of certain rather interesting cloud formations, but also this evening in the simple little shadow cast by my keys on the wall as I headed out the door - the shadow looked like a little angel hovering quietly in front of me. I have never had any doubts as to the presence or existence of God, merely doubts as to the depth of His interest in me and my life. Still I find comfort, humor, and some degree of thankfulness in such small reminders, whether others might choose to debate them or not. For me they have had meaning and have helped me during a time of distress. I am grateful.

Tomorrow will be a day spent with my sister and, later on, my niece also. Hopefully we will be able to find some place mutually agreeable to have an early supper and then all head home (or back to our hotel, in my sister's case) for an early bedtime and a good night's rest, although I do not know if I will be able to sleep much since Thursday is "The Day" for me.

I will try to let anyone reading this know how things went as soon as possible following my surgery in case they might be facing the same type of surgery anytime soon. I have been told that it is not an especially painful recovery, although there will obviously be pain involved, and that I should be able to return home the day following the surgery. I know each person's experience is unique but, just in case any of mine might be of help to someone else, I will try to convey the information ASAP.

One thing I would heartily recommend to anyone approaching this type of surgery is that they take the time to allow themself to have a good cry here and there. I was crying earlier this evening (I hid in the bathroom) and likely would have done so earlier but the day was too busy and there were too may people around and too much activity - all necessary - to allow me the release of grief, fear, and whatever else I needed to cry out of my system earlier in the day. Being reminded that you are loved helps in this process and, whether in an ethereal sign from on high or in the simple hard work given so willingly by a younger sister or family friend, it all means a great deal when faced with the ordeal I am trying to cope with at present. I am loved. I will always have that and that will always be with me where ever I am; where ever I may find myself.

There is a short song about being loved that I learned many years ago that I think of once in awhile. I paraphrase it here for you now. I do not recall the author or the composer, however:

"I am loved, I am loved.
I can risk loving you.
For the ones who know me best, love me most.
I am loved, I am loved.
Won't you please take my hand,
We can learn to love each other;
We are loved."

As I write this song out (or type it out, for the more literally minded), I am reminded of the terrible troubles of the Middle East between the Israeli and Arab peoples; the Christian, Jewish, and Muslim believers. Why are we so determined to hate and destroy that with which we do not agree; that which we fear, for whatever reason?
I know I will never be able to adopt the beliefs of either the Jewish or Muslim faiths, yet I cannot say I feel threatened by either of those sets of beliefs and, whether any of those beliefs shakes me in any of what I believe to be true, certainly not to the point of wishing anyone evil merely for disagreeing with me in a matter of religious choice. Part of the price of having religious freedom is found in allowing others that same freedom as they see fit and according to their own choice and conscience, not someone else's, otherwise the commitment means little or nothing and anyhting they may have to say is merely learned by rote and never spoken from the heart. Peace has to start somewhere, if not with me then with whom? If not now, then when?

Perhaps humanity will never be ready to commit to peace. Just as peace begins to seem possible one place, the cry of war and the ugly lust for power and attention breaks out elsewhere - witness North Korea's thrashings, shoutings, and demandings. If ever a nation was crying out to be heard, for good or for ill, it is this one with its hostage population and its maniacal, if self-delusional, leadership's determination to become what it thinks of as a "player" in world politics. No one lives forever and no nation will forever tolerate the conditions the poor citizens of North Korea have been forced to endure under the current regime. Their lives are little better than those of most prisoners in other nations. My heart goes out to the people of North Korea and I hope they may soon be free of their oppression and able to lift their heads once again, proud of their cultural heritage and proud of their nation.

Another war torn nation is Mexico, although for different reasons. With the drug lords determined to keep their trade routes to the US open and the determination of the US and, finally, certain members of the Mexican government to make sure they are prevented from continuing to use those routes or to create others, Mexico is in a bad way. Most likely it is those caught in the cross fire that suffer the greatest losses, so again, my heart goes out to the citizens, the common people, of Mexico, those whose lives will likely be forever altered by the direct consequences of the violence taking place while those who direct from a distance will still be able to sit back in their exquisitely appointed mansions, enjoying their perfectly brewed cups of coffee or tea, and never fully realizing, or caring, what sort of pain and devastation they have initiated for thousands of their fellow countrymen because of the greed, corruption, and savagery that gained their wealth for them in the first place. It may seem like justice to wish them what they deserve, but to me it would be too horrible to imagine putting even someone so viscious through that and I refuse to wish it, no matter how well deserved or just.

There, I have had my rants for the week, I just wish I could somehow help make all of the efforts at peaceful resolutions between nations, as well as individuals, come to fruition but how when even the UN is botching the job so sadly of late?

Whatever the state of the world's population at large, may each of you find the unique blessings in your own lives and may you have the opportunity to feel the gratitude and love there, as well, at least to the same degree I have gotten to find such things in my own.

Love,
Izzlebug

Laughing Even Though It Hurts

Something occurred several days (a couple of weeks?) ago and, as everyone I have mentioned it to has found it amusing, I thought I would share it here as well.

It was just after we found out I had breast cancer. I was driving over to our vetrinarian's to pick up supplies for our aging pussycat population when, on the way there, I spotted an unusual cloud formation. It is not unusual for me to enjoy imagining what certain clouds resemble, but this particular cloud formation was rather arresting in its appearance. I was NOT the only motorist to notice it, by the way.

I was approaching my exit when I glanced out the car window to my left and saw some rather wispy clouds that had taken on the contour of a pair of breasts. I looked away and mentally shook myself knowing where my mind obviously had been since the news, etc. But when I looked back there was another aspect to the formation not present before, it looked like the face of a man (to me it strongly resembled my boyfriend Ross) kissing one of the breasts!

I did a double take and then noticed out of the corner of my eye that a young man in another car had also noticed the cloud formation and was gazing up at it rather attentively. (It really was quite an erotic cloud formation!) When I got back onto a less busy street I called my Dad on the cell phone and told him about the clouds and also that that was one of the reasons I have such a problem dealing with God. Dad laughed and said he was glad to know God had a sense of humor and I told Dad I really didn't see anything funny about it under the circumstances. I felt rather huffy about things just then. Anyway, when I got home later I told Ross what I had seen and what Dad had said. Ross looked at me kind of bug-eyed and said, "You told your DAD?!?!?" (For Pete's sake, we're in our fifties!)

I said, "Well, in our family it's Dad who's had the mastectomies!"

So the lines have become a little blurred for us on some issues. Not our fault. Blame Mother Nature and God who have thrown so much at us in such odd and painful ways yet also have provided us with so many amusing moments during that same pain with which to share with one another and to distract ourselves!

Hope any who read this are also able to find the same humor in the story that has had myself and several others chuckling when it has been recounted over the past couple of weeks.

Perhaps Dad is right. It is a good thing God has a sense of humor. It is rather comforting, in retrospect, to think so.

Much Love,
Izzlebug

Worries Aplenty Abound

It always seems to work out that whenever one thing goes south several others follow suit. I know I am not the only person to feel this way, but I do feel my family does seem to have a slightly more tragic bent during some of these times than many others (and not as tragic as some, as well!). My personal time is extremely difficult but survivable in and of itself. It is just when it looks like other disturbing things maybe added to the mix that it begins to feel so unbearable.

So anyone reading this will know what I am referring to,I learned earlier today that my grandmother was supposedly not doing too well. That then led to tears and depressive thoughts about making that last trip up to see her for the last time, etc. It was not until I spoke with my stepmother and learned my grandmother was, at that very minute, beating the pants off the both of them at Mexican Poker that I was able to relax and cease worrying, at least for the time being. Having cancer sucks! It takes my mind away from so much I need to get done and so many people I love and want to spend time with! It makes me want to scream or rant or something!

With that off of my chest (soon to be joined by my...ahem!), I have also been wanting to mention for the past two days the redwinged blackbirds I saw in a small field along the highway as I drove home from my appointment with the plastic surgeon. They cling to the dead reeds like little sailors might cling to a ship's mast, only they look like they are dressed as admirals in jaunty black velvet with red epaulets trimmed in gold. They seem to be gazing so bravely into the future it heartens me just to catch sight of any of them, especially on a sunny day with a light wind blowing, bobbing them about in their oceans of dried grasses and wild flower stems. It would not surprise me to see a whale blow in the distance although it might take the shoppers in the mall parking lot a bit off guard.

Another, not unexpected, development is that following the mastectomies and before any chemo would begin should it be required, I will be having another surgery to remove my reproductive apparatus also. As long as my ovaries are in place any breast tissue that may be left will be at a greater risk for a recurrance of breast cancer and there is also a slightly increased risk with our particular genetic mutation of developing ovarian cancer, which is very difficult to detect before it has gotten out of hand and untreatable. Also, if I end up taking Tamoxifin (?spl.) there could be a risk of its causing uterine cancer. The only remedy or prevention is to remove the potential organs involved before this can happen. Even though these particular body parts are not visible, as such, it is still difficult knowing even more of my body must be removed in order to try to prevent this cancer problem from recurring repeatedly. It does seem a small price to pay in the long run, but no less difficult to deal with in the here and now of my upcoming surgeries.

The plastic surgeon turned out to be someone I felt very at ease with and he was very frank about the procedure and the likely results, possible complications, etc., which I appreciated greatly. He did mention one bonus to having the implants versus using prostheses is that you would not be as likely to lose one or both of the implants should you go swimming or be doing anything else sufficiently active to jar the things loose. I did feel some rather wicked amusement at the thought of having to ask the life guard to retrieve a lost prosthesis should that happen..."Excuse me young man, but could you please see if you could retrieve my...for me? I think it's in the deep end of the pool." It would be that or the experience of seeing it float by before one realized it had escaped its moorings. (It should be noted here that I know ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about breast prostheses as this is all very new to me and I have not asked about or seen any of them and have no clue as to what they are made of, how they are kept in place - other than by the brassiere - and so forth.)

(**Note** I realize many women may not see the humor in these potential situations that I am finding. I merely ask them all to remember that I, too, am facing the same surgeries and permanent disfiguration to my own body with all of the attending emotional traumas and issues. I choose to find the humor and laugh rather than feeling ashamed, embarrassed, too depressed, or as if I am somehow being too insensitive to the needs and feelings of others during my own experience. I am not talking about anyone else's body or thoughts, nor am I criticizing anyone else's choices or points of view, merely asking them for the same latitude I give to them for myself.)

A friend went with me to that appointment and it really was so nice having someone else there in the car for the drive up and back and to have her with me in the doctor's office during the discussion phase of the appointment. It really means more to me than I ever realized it would to have that moral support and companionship for these moments while all of this looms so forbodingly near. She also mentioned as many of the good points of the situation as she could, for which I am also grateful.

All things studied from each angle, I feel fairly fortunate overall. I have family and friends who love me and are trying to be there for me as much as possible. My boyfriend has been supportive and very sweet about a lot of stuff he normally tends to not think about too much, and the cats are always a comfort although I hope to discover why Mottle has been trying to sit on my face for the past three days when she does not look sore in the area in question and is not showing any other symptoms seemingly pertinent to such behavior. Where is "Mewzlo" when you need him?

Tomorrow I will be traveling to the state mental hospital to visit my brother. He has requested a cholesterol burger and an artery-blocker shake, but I suspect the hospital may have been overinundating him with healthier fare and he is having withdrawal symptoms. I'll make sure it's a small chocolate shake, and no french fries! It's likely there will be little conversation because, while Mike can talk a blue streak on the telephone, in person the flow of words becomes stilted and, often, nonexistent. A lot depends on his state of mind at the time, too. If he has been taking his medications regularly the chances for a real conversation are greater than otherwise but I will have to wait and see what he's like when I get there. He's aware that I have cancer and will be having surgery but, after losing our sister two years ago, Mike seems to have retreated somewhere he never went before, possibly somewhere where Patty still lives and my illness cannot worry him so much. I hope he is able to return someday and know some of the joys and rewards of living in the "real" world before he too, must join mother, sister, grandfather, and others that have passed before. At least in that world my brother will be whole again. Of that much I am certain

Blessings upon all who venture here. Happiness and much love.

Izzlebug

In Retrospect Everything Moves Too Rapidly

Today is a rather slowly moving day, a little pleasanter weather-wise than yesterday, but still not quite the Spring weather hoped for and anticipated. It is a good day to pause and reflect here on my blog. It is also a good day to give myself a kick in the seat of my pants and make sure I do not waste another day in sulking and self-pity, which were my party companions of yesterday whether I realized I had invited them or not. I may manage to be a more cheerful person most of the time with others, but left to my own devices under these circumstances I find myself just sitting and doing a lot of nothing. Maybe this is usual for people when they are dealing with the issues I am currently facing and it is not an unusual state for me when faced with an overwhelming amount of stuff to get done or cope with, I just sort of wish I had the get up and go to manage myself a little differently during these crisis moments. At the very least I would get more accomplished around the house.

Be that the case or otherwise, it occurs to me a lot has taken place since the last time I blogged about the breast cancer issue. The entire question of losing both of my breasts at once and being left entirely flat chested was really beginning to weigh on my mind to the extent it was keeping me up until the very early morning hours. I realized that, for me, I would need some sort of reconstructive or plastic surgery in order not to be completely thrown off balance by the state of my body following the surgery. Due to my weight issues the only type of "reconstruction" viable for me is implants, so I will have to go flat for a while during the healing process as it will take time to stretch the skin in the appropriate areas in order to accommodate the implants, etc. I never realized how connected my self-image was to my body until I had to face these issues head on. I respect the decisions of those women who have chosen to remain without breasts (*see breastfree.org) and am very grateful for their courage and compassion in allowing themselves to be photographed so others in similar situations will know what to expect, but I am so used to having an ample bosom I was really not able to wrap my mind around having no bosom at all following all of this, so I am seeing the plastic surgeon for a consult in a few days.

I do not want breasts as large as what nature provided me with again, but something more esthetically pleasing and physically manageable will be very welcome to me. I am also not interested in the more extensive proceedures now in use for reconstructing breasts in which abdominal, or other, body fat and muscle tissues are utilized, especially not after seeing some of the pictures available that show the scarring of other areas of their bodies some women are willing to incur in order to have breasts again. I do not feel that I could face that kind of disfigurement to another part of my body for the sake of breasts, nor do I want to compromise the function of the muscles in my abdomen, back or behind for the same reason when implants appear to provide a reasonable result with no additional scarring elsewhere. I do find myself more interested in saline implants as opposed to silicone, though, and hope the surgeon agrees with my choice.

If anyone is interested in seeing any of what I have seen they can go to the website listed in the prior paragraph or enter "breast implants following mastectomies" in a Google image search which produced, at the time, 20,400 hits of photos and other images to wade through, some very graphic and tragic, others very helpful, and many totally useless. Someone has even created a comic book explaining cancer treatments, but I did not look at it too closely and so cannot comment upon its information.

In all of this I feel very fortunate to have friends and family members who are willing to accompany me to various appointments because, whether it shows or not, I am not having an easy time dealing with all of this and have spent the better part of the past two days trying to avoid dealing mentally with the issues at all. Today I am a little more able to pick up the pieces and proceed on a more rational level with my life so I figure that I must have needed the break. Later today I will try to get out of the house, tend to some housework after I get home, and just generally face the normal and everyday with a little more fortitude than I have had the past two days. I may even be able to slip in a short nap without compromising my resolve, as well. It should be a better day all around.

**Later in the day, following the aforementioned nap and upon awakening, I thought of something I would like to do. In this blog I can only tell my own story. I can also briefly mention the stories of those closest to me such as my three aunts, two of whom, my father's younger sisters, are breast cancer survivors, and one aunt by marriage who is suffering through Inflammatory Breast Cancer with "suffering" being the key word. The reason I hesitate to mention others here is because I do not know if it will be OK with them, how much to mention will be OK, etc. Basically, I need their direct permission to tell their stories from my perspective. These are three women who I have known my entire life and love; one is somewhat distant and wrapped up in her own set of troubles, one has been very forthcoming with her offerings of counsel to me on the questions I have had regarding what I am currently going through and also has a daughter with the same genetic mutation I have, and the third is dying bravely from a form of breast cancer few have heard of and few are that familiar with but that insidiously claims the lives of both young and old. I would like to try to tell some of their stories, as well as others and create a medium that could allow others to tell their own stories as well. We would be "A Thousand Voices Singing."

My sincerest hopes and prayers for anyone reading this is that life is not coming at you as hard and fast at it seems to come at us and that, if it is, you at least have the support we have for yourself and your loved ones. Blessings on all who may venture this far into cyberspace.

With Much Love,
Izzlebug