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
Friday, July 24, 2009
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
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
Thursday, July 23, 2009
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
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
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
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
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
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
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
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
Saturday, July 04, 2009
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
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
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