A BALM SOON TO CALM OUR NATION DOWN

Though it’s common for
The calm to come before the storm
I believe this change for
The better to be self evident:
Once the stormy years of trump have passed
The calm that’s bound to follow in
The aftermath of insanity’s tweeting tantrums
Will feel like a soul soothing balm as
The compassionate voice of
Experienced leadership considers the healing of
Our nation’s battered value system so seriously that
Making the most of our population’s diversity
Will surely become the top priority of
The President of The Re-United States of America
Come November when we freely choose to
Elect those to public office whose
Hearts and minds prove open to embracing
This opportunity to seriously resuscitate
The concepts of freedom, equality and
Justice for all human beings, —at long last!
And, while we’re at it, hopefully
You’ll agree wholeheartedly with me when
I say that it’s high time for one more state to
Take the moral high ground so as to ratify
The amendment to the constitution, which declares
Women as equal to men, once and for all!🇺🇸
Today’s train of thought is suggestive of
My fervent belief that the majority of
Americans will conscientiously choose to elevate
A strong sense of emotional maturity over
Childish power struggles for the sake of
Restoring our faith in unifying red and blue at least
To the point of raising The American flag to
New heights, which will, once again, be seen
Throughout the world as waving proudly over
Our nation’s purple mountain majesty
Annie 🙋🏻‍♀️🌈🌻

I NEED TO RELEASE THIS TRAIN OF THOUGHT FROM MY MIND

Being that this next train of thought continues to tunnel through the depths of my mind, I’d like to air it in its entirety so as to clear my view of what lies directly ahead concerning my personal life, so with your permission, here it comes—

The present dilemma of parents throughout our nation concerns how best to keep our precious children as safe as possible when their fall semester of school reconvenes being that ‘the powers that be’ can’t get its act together concerning how best to mandate precautionary measures in hopes of safe guarding youngsters from Covid when school starts in August ...

The fact that we continue to be bereft of courageous guidance based in common sense coming from governmental officials elected by the people for the good of the people has let loose a monster in The White House, whose voracious appetite for power continues to blind his followers from seeing that they continue to free one man to viciously devour the well being of the American people as was true in Germany of Hitler, post WWI ... 

If re-elected, the donald will eventually disband boards of education, which will prove defunct, as we watch our educational system being replaced by trump’s youth camps, followed by his organizing other camps as history, disregarded, repeats itself—again and again!  Sooo—

Be scared.  Be very scared.  Be scared enough to vote this maniac out of office before he assigns you and me to a camp where fun and games and arts and crafts do not exist.

Just as ‘Never a dull moment’ has never before been so prevalent within our family (as has been the case, over this past year), the same is true throughout our nation, most especially over these past three and a half years—and just as our family comes together to brainstorm toward developing the best possible plan in hopes of keeping all of us as safe from catching and succumbing to Covid-19 as is humanly possible, leadership throughout every level of our government has got to ‘get its act together’ so as to evict trump from The Oval Office by acknowledging the fact that over these past three years, leadership, at every level, has been non existent, which is literally insane.  Sooo— if our elected officials have closed their ears and turned their backs on we the people then before checks and balances are defunct—

Let’s agree that we can’t depend upon our current government’s insanity to repair itself—so please, please, please—vote for sanity in November ...

Ooohmmm ...

IT’S HIGH TIME TO STOP POINTING FINGERS

Every time I hear—What is wrong with trump? this train of thought tunnels through the intuitive portion of my mind so as to connect with my conscious awareness:  trump proves, on a daily basis, to be mentally deranged, so the vital question that begs an answer is actually what is wrong with those whose leadership roles in the Republican Party would rather contribute to our nation’s downfall than band together, take a stand and take trump down, once and for all?

We the people have watched leadership in every aspect of life go from casually ignoring laws to becoming so lax as to accept corporate corruption as matter of fact until the trickle effect of living a lie snuck into the back door of so many homes as to have corrupted family life, as well, suggesting that for decades, our complacency with lying has undermined the American dream ... and since we know what’s wrong with trump, and since we’ve accepted the trickle effect of corruption as a way of life—every travesty that is in need of change at the top is in need of change at every level of leadership as elections draw near, so please, please, please acknowledge the fact that we all need to take a proactive role in holding ourselves accountable for bringing the solution to our problems to fruition by voting for change for the better come November ...

HEALTH UPDATE #21

Wow!  That was a fast turn around if I say so myself!
Sure didn’t expect to update so soon after my last visit with you, but then, today’s update (being written in slow-mo) sees me feeling less upbeat, more beaten up, most likely because chemo, infused on Wed. June 10th, is kicking me around from the inside out as is known to happen the week after each dose is administered, and as side effects are cumulative, that fact added to this next fact, may answer why my body feels like Rocky’s after meeting an opponent in the ring, whose power packed punch came close to knocking our favorite underdog out:  You see, the shot I received, which stimulates my bone marrow to produce a well-balanced blood supply, was administered the day after chemo, and as it can take more than a week before both medications kick in to the max, it’s highly likely that this tag team is making my 76 year old bones feel as if they’re literally engaged in a fight for dear life, which has actually been true since October of 2018 when I, concerned about daily headaches and chest pain, began to see a round of doctors, who could do no more than scratch their heads, being that my temp had been normal, no wheezing or coughing had been heard, and no thinking out of the box had surfaced from the depths of anyone’s mind, inclusive of mine—offering the tumor a year’s time to feed upon a large portion of one of my lungs—so though my aching body can’t help but move verrry slooowly, today, let’s get to the good news, ASAP ...

I’m deeply relieved to say that both infusions, making up my last round of chemo over these next two Wednesdays, have been cancelled following my platelets plummeting from 66,000 to 9000, again, which is why we received a call, right after labs, instructing us to hightail it back to Mayo where an out patient transfusion was administered to ward off another spontaneous bleed (and probable hospitalization).  Btw—a healthy platelet count hovers around 150,000.

Whew!  Really glad to have dodged a repeat performance of that!

As chemo and my blood do not get along, cancelling both infusions, which would have made up my last round of chemo before surgery, offers my blood cell production time to restrengthen while the rest of me re-energizes during the weeks ahead, which will see Will wheeling me into Mayo, several times, weekly, for pre-op studies, labs and tests before boarding a flight to Houston encased within goggles, mask, face shield, gloves and a hazmat suit, size M, since a small was not to be had.  (When considering the nature of unexpected changes, here’s one thing I can say for certain—I remember when gents had boarded flights garbed in suits, starched white shirts and ties while ladies in dresses had donned hats, heels and gloves—cotton, satin or leather if you please—definitely not plastic, boxed in disposable pairs of one hundred, choices limited to small, medium, large ...

Last Friday’s schedule noted a test for Covid-19, followed by labs to double check platelets. 👍. The corker was a lengthy echo cardio-stress test (medication administered through my port replacing treadmill) to raise my heart rate while an ultrasound technician recorded images of my heart refraction, which had been seriously affected by chemo when my last echo was administered in April, initiating the reduction of harshness, perpetrated by the second protocol of chemo.

Now that the protocol has been changed three times and since side effects, interfering with blood production, continue to build up, exacerbating my being oxygen deprived, leaving me with overall achiness, shortness of breath, and managing fatigue as best I can, you can imagine the depths of my relief upon hearing that lengthy tests, coming up, such as pulmonary function, cardiac MRI and PET Scan, all scheduled over these next two weeks, will not be further complicated by the build up of invasive side effects resultant of chemo treatments (wrestling with the sarcoma), which have mercifully been cancelled to ensure my being strong enough to endure a pair of serious surgeries ...

Best news of the week—

Will’s reaction to yesterday’s echo’s results.

Based in changes in chemo’s protocols, my heart function is restored to the level that was true, last November, before the invasive nature of harsher chemos had run interference with heart being strong like bull!  A very good improvement preceding heart surgery, right?😊

Secondly was the reaction of four technicians, a bevy of young women representative of The United Nations, who, working in tandem, administered yesterday’s cardio-echo, two at computers, a third, eyes glued to the ultrasound screen while one hand moved the wand as she took pictures of my heart with me lying on my side—and the fourth, offering me bedside guidance as to inhaling, exhaling, ball squeezing and feet running in place through the air, while all four spirits encouraged mine to pick up the pace in order to meet 122 heartbeats per minute, and when, suddenly, I shot up to 127, my quartet of cheerleaders were so excited with how quickly my echo was completed and how clear the pictures proved to be—based in my having followed on-going instructions concerning breathing and holding still  —you’d have thought I’d just won a virtual sports competition.

Upon asking why they were so complimentary since all I did was to follow directions, all four laughed and one answered—you arrived in a wheelchair wearing a turban.  You were in need of steadying as you transferred to the bed.  We didn’t expect you to follow instructions to the letter.  We expected to have to stop to minister to your frustration. We figured that getting your heart rate up to 122 would take close to two hours, and you shot up to 127 in less than one!  None of us expected your spirit to exceed our expectations.

Oh!  Well—I replied—with tongue in cheek—in that case, I’m not surprised to have exceeded your expectations.

Why is that? asked one of the four ...

I’ve been an over achiever since I was three!

At that, we enjoyed a good laugh, and once gel had been wiped away, I was helped off with the gown and on with my clothes as the wheel chair rolled back into the room.

Quite soon after we arrived home, Will answered the phone.  The cardiologist, whom we’d only met once, was calling with my echo’s results to save us from worrying, over the weekend.  Now how kind and unexpected was that!  Wow!

Over the next several hours, Will could not stop grinning!  Literally.  He was all keyed. Up!  Every time his eyes met mine, his inner glow shown forth.

So all things considered—though my body feels beaten up, surely you can see why my spirit feels more up beat than not concerning good fortune coming my way.

I mean, what if my heart refraction had not recovered?  Surgery would have been too risky.  And with chemo out of the question, the tumor would have reactivated ... nuff said ...

Here’s yet another example of my good fortune weighing in—Most of this post was penned, yesterday, while David (having tested negative for Covid) was driving from the coast toward the desert with plans to stay at the home of a dear friend, who has been quarantining at her boyfriend’s house).  And hopefully, Bryce is driving in from the coast, today.

Though David had a flat, thank goodness he was but an hour away from our house, so while a tow truck was called for his car, Steven, coming to the aid of his younger brother, drove out to the spot on the freeway where David, seeking shelter from 107 degree heat, blazing hot as fire, stood beneath an underpass in readiness to wave his brother down—and by the time our sons entered our patio gate and knocked on my bedroom window to announce their arrival—both had cooled down in Steven’s air conditioned car, and as all was well, once more, our hopeful hearts awaited hearing from Bryce ... suggesting that when we’re so fortunate as to people our lives with so many loved ones, our minds are always refilling with hopes for good news of one kind or another. 

So, Will and I will thoroughly enjoy patio visits while we, relaxing on loungers, drink in the loving presence of our family through the glass of our Arcadia door, cell phones in hand—quarantine style, while we converse, back and forth, about who knows what just happy to be together—though missing Barry’s family as they miss us.

Needless to say, at 107 degrees, much of David’s time (and hopefully, Bryce’s) will be spent taking turns with Steven’s family, cooling off in our spa.  Ravi, David and Bryce, adoring each other, are sure to entertain each other’s sense of fun as well as our own, offering Steven a chance to relax,
once their imaginative, high spirited shenanigans get started.

And sooo—here’s hoping that you enjoy Father’s Day with loved ones as best as proves possible!

Please be safe and well—resourceful and patient, hopeful, and playful!!🧚🏻‍♂️

With so much for which to feel hopeful as the immediate future unfolds, let’s guess how many times that spirit-lifting word emerged from within the intuitive side of my mind so as to sprinkle fairy dust all over today’s train of thought 😊

Feel my love smiling playfully with yours ...
And if you believe in fairies—clap three times!
I mean—what do we have to lose?😊🧚🏻‍♂️

 🙋🏻‍♀️❤️😘

Annie

Sent from my iPad

HEALTH UPDATE #20

Dear friends,

The date of my surgery is set for July 28th.  With surgery officially scheduled, this last leap of faith toward fully healed recovery is officially scary.

In addition to digesting the imminent reality of this dual surgery, all of the logistics accompanying this gynormous step toward healing from the inside out sees my need for peace and quiet maximizing while the impact of surgery’s nearness sinks in.  When it comes to thoughts, reactions and even encouragement offered by loved ones, I can see myself engaging in discussions with Will and our sons but no one else until a whale of courage has been mustered and fortified.  And how will I know when a natural sense of readiness is mine?  Just as with every crises in the past, I have faith in my power of intuition giving me a sign.

One last infusion of chemo as well as lots of tests and studies will take place at Mayo before we fly to Houston on July 21st, where  additional studies, labs, appointments with cardiac surgeon and thoracic surgeon followed by three days of quarantine (following Covid test) will precede my being admitted for back-to-back surgeries.

Though my spirit remains strong that doesn’t mean I’m not shaking in my boots.  And with that said, when it’s time to pack, I’ll leave those boots at home, being that I plan to fly toward the future—goggled, gloved, masked, face shield protectively in place—on the wings of courage and hope—my heart, mind and spirit fully stoked with your loving support.

And you can bet your boots that, packed within my suitcase, will be my Superman jammies!

This is what we’ve been working toward, over these past six grueling months— a pair of accomplished oncologists and a pair of brilliant surgeons, who developed this procedure, saying—it’s a go!

And with three appointments at Mayo, tomorrow, I plan to rest up, today, since I’d been in need of a blood transfusion—yesterday.  More about that when next we meet.

Wherever you may be, my love is hugging all of you close, 🙋🏻‍♀️❤️🌈🌻Annie

Sent from my iPad

EXPOSURE TO COVID-19 SCARY TIMES

Sooo—last week, Steven stopped by his law office to pick up the mail and was exposed to C-19.  (His receptionist).  While Steven has been quarantining, Jose, his friend with whom he shares office space, has been meeting clients in his office.

In addition to getting tested, Steven had a complete physical, and since he’s quarantining even more stringently than was true when he’d quarantined, seriously, he, Celina, Ravi and their pups are up at the cabin, having left the heat that’s been cooking the valley, behind.  So, no Steven or Ravi to be seen on our patio until 14 days of incubation have passed, and at this point, only two to go with all three feeling fine

Though coming in contact with Covid-19 proves unnerving, Steven was masked and gloved, so we’re really hopeful that he’ll remain well.  Unfortunately, with spiking numbers, it’s just a matter of time before loved ones are exposed.  Several people (out of a hundred) in Barry’s company chose to start working in the office, as well.  One day, last week, Barry had considered stopping by for something and then changed his mind—thank goodness—that day, everyone in the office was exposed to a co-worker with C-19.  Now, everyone is working from home, again.  Really scary times.  Unfortunately, many people, who go unmasked, may have to lose loved ones before taking this death threat literally to heart ...

And yes, we’d better leave our grandchildren with a better world than the one experienced by David’s ‘little brother’ Bryce and Shaonnie, his nine year old sister ...

As you can see, Blogger’s photo feature is working up to snuff, again, so patience paid off, and below you’ll find the snapshots, which went unpublished earlier in the week, the second one revealing a super hero on the wall of the cubicle where my shot to stimulate bone marrow strength was administered while I was garbed in my Superman PJs.🦸🏻‍♀️

As we’ve been in contact with Houston quite often, lately, I feel as though I’m riding a train that’s picking up speed, so I need to remind myself that it’s not running beyond my control, and we’re nearing a station where celebration concerning healing awaits.

On an up note, our dear friend and neighbor, Adrienne, is grilling skirt steak for us, tonight—yum.  Being that our dear friend is a terrific cook, Will has begun to call her The GFF—the good food fairy.😊

🙋🏻‍♀️❤️🌈🌻

REFLECTIVITY CONCERNING PRODUCTIVITY

In response to two friends, who text at least once a week, here is my most recent reply:

I love every word you both write and enjoyed a chuckle at Shainie’s purchase of a high end sewing machine, which she does not know how to thread, as I’ve wiled away some of my time ordering gadgets on Amazon, which seem likely until they arrive, and we are seen scratching our heads while peering into the box as Will asks, how the heck is this supposed to improve our lives?  LOL!

Cleaning, beautifying your yard and creating art doesn’t sound like doing nothing productive to me.  I felt incredibly productive having recouped just enough energy to get my sock collection off the closet floor (where they’d been for weeks) and into two large drawers, newly fitted with dividers, before they’d  rooted ever so deeply into our carpet.

Day after day, all I could do was to glance their way in passing while leaving them languishing on the floor awaiting reorganization.  Once a bit of energy was mine, I sat myself down on the floor where colorful pairs of socks, complimenting black pants, were separated from those worn with navy—and as that’s when my back tweaked, socks, now color-coded, remained on the floor until several days later when need of my heating pad had been tucked neatly away.  Anyway, this simple task, which under normal circumstances would have taken no more than an hour, required drawing forth many weeks of patience so that my zen-like mindset would not give way to outbursts of frustration, which would have hurried nothing along.  And as my connection to calmness had been successfully maintained, reflection suggests my having been more mindfully productive than I’d given myself credit for in real time.  This is why I love writing—as trains of thought emerge naturally from within the depths of my mind, intuition spotlights insights, which would otherwise have been missed.

Feel my love, dear Shainie and Merle—I am so fortunate to have connected my heart with both of yours over most of my life!

Girlfriends since our late teens

They and their husbands all flew in to celebrate Steven’s wedding to Celina
Sue, Merle, Adi, Annie, Shainie, Nancy
(Sadly, very sadly, Adi succumbed to a brain tumor)

Michael, Mack, Will

Shainie, Merle, Annie

Annie🙋🏻‍♀️🥰🌻

WHY IS POSITIVITY SO READILY MINE?

To my good fortune
Many of my family and friends connect with me, every day
All consider my positivity as extraordinary
In response to deeply appreciated commentary
My reaction is readily expressed:
My family is healthy and prospering during quarantine
Love buoys my spirit as I hear from so many, every day
Two friends dropped off homemade dinners less than
A half hour apart—and though
The tantalizing aroma of tender brisket
Tempted our appetites, succulent salmon, which was
Delish, was enjoyed first while still moist
Last week, my back was tweaked, not throbbing.
My bone marrow’s production of
Healthy blood cells cleared my way for chemo, carrying
Me one week closer to recovery following surgery
And each positive thought penned above is just
A starter with more to come, inclusive of our sons’
Loving surprise visit on our patio, over
Memorial Day weekend, topping the list of
Reasons to feel so fortunate as to love my life despite
Personal strife, and thus, with so many reasons to
Feel grateful filling my mind, I find maintaining
An attitude of positivity, which
Quells frustration, is not a stretch for me with
This exception:  Cable conked out on us earlier in the week—
Will was not happy—and as my husband has become
A caregiver extraordinaire while quarantined, over
These past several months, his frustration
During this disruption of mind escape was
Utterly understandable, most especially when
We consider his having chosen to adopt
Meal preparation, KP duty, laundry
Etc, Etc.—not to forget his being
Commander and chief in charge of overseeing
All of my medical procedures spanning
Two of our nation’s most highly acclaimed medical campuses
I mean, how many hours can a guy wile away, head buried in
Medical jargon, page-turning spy stories or
Crossword puzzles before going batty?
Thank goodness, a pair of capable cable guys arrived within
24 hours and, having worked outside in the desert heat for
More than 2 hours, they instructed Will as to
How to replace our cable box without either one having
Placed even one foot in our home, so thankfully
Cable is in working order, again, without breaking quarantine

As to the turbulent state of our nation
It should come as no surprise that with
My position of positivity intact, I believe whatever
Ails us will heal based upon my confidence in
The better side of human nature defeating evil,  over time ...

Unfortunately, there are times when explosions of anger are necessary to awaken we who have remained too complacent to depths of human suffering ignored for far too long.  Again, that insight in no way suggests my condoning violence, burning and looting, though I understand self control morphing into mob mentality when lasting change for the better is back-burnered by the powers that be for centuries ...
Annie

I GET ALONG WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS ...

Last night, our good friend and neighbor, Adrienne, left a nourishing meal, high in iron, at our front door, as has been the case, once or twice weekly.

This morning, when Will placed Adrienne’s clean containers outside, he found a gift of love left by the good fairy.  Though he was stymied, I laughed and was not, being that Adrienne and I had exchanged texts concerning snacks that defy self control.  So, just as last night’s dinner was delish, this afternoon will see me tempted by chocolate and chips.

As Will and I can’t even begin to express how much Adrienne’s friendship has done to ease our way through one of our lives most trying times, my husband has begun to refer to our dear friend as
The GFF.

The Good Food Fairy

So far, today is shaping up to be a no worse day than yesterday, which is okay by me considering miseries experienced the days before.

Will, whose record-keeping extraordinaire concerning my appointments, is meticulous, thinks that week after next, I’ll have one last infusion of chemo (not the full round of two) followed by several weeks of rest preceding our flying to Houston for surgery.

With a slew of tests coming up—CT of my chest, 3D cardiac MRI, pulmonary function, PET scan and more—these last vital steps before surgery are becoming VERY real, which sees me in need of mustering an enhancement of courage.  So, while remaining focused on today, I remind myself to drink lots of water to ensure that the invasive nature of this tumor ‘floats peaceably out of my body’ once anesthesia, better known as the Sandman, carries me ever so gently into dreamland.

Thank goodness for imagination tempering reality, which, left to its own devices, might scare courage away ...
Annie

CHEMO—KRYPTONITE AND SAVIOR

As restless miseries emerged, last night, I took an Ativan (a welcomed suggestion from my oncologist’s PA) at about ten pm and managed to sleep from midnight to 5am, when I took another and slept till 11am.  Now, much of the misery is calmed, leaving me feeling like the kind of zombie who would serve up—fresh from the oven—tollhouse cookies washed down with a blend of hot chocolate and organic blood, topped off with a froth of mini marshmallows, melting in our mouths.

The photo below, symbolizing my chosen attitude, comes out to play, quite often ...
Here it is again, showing what I chose to wear to Mayo while my bone marrow shot was being administered, yesterday.

Hmmm—Photo refuses to appear, so I choose patience.  Why?  Because Blogger is in transition—In late June, the new Blogger interface will become the default for all users. The legacy interface will still be optionally available. We recommend trying the new interface by clicking “Try the New Blogger” in the left-hand navigation. Please file any critical issues encountered.

As we acknowledge that my frustration will hurry nothing along, let’s plan to circle back to view the photo at a later date so as to move smoothly ahead with a peaceful sense of patience intact —

I’m sure the chemo staff at Mayo considers me a character.  In fact, I’m often asked to show my socks to see if they’ve purposely been mismatched, especially on days when a bright red ballet flat is seen on one striped foot while the toe of a bright blue flat, peeping out from under my stretch jeans on the other shows polka dots of every color.  Nothing like lightening up a serious day shared by patients and nurses, alike, by conjuring up simple reasons to laugh, closing the gap between staff and myself.

Earlier in the week, I was so deeply engaged in conversation with a nurse (who has a teen aged son), offering her sure fire responses that transform moments fraught with conflict into love-fests (so that solution seeking can begin), that neither of us noticed the needle remaining accessed into my port until I was home from labs and removing my blouse, several hours later.  When we went back, I acknowledged my accountability for talking too much to Will!  Lol😊. In defense of the nurse, many patients go directly to chemo after labs with ports fully accessed.  As for me, I choose to have labs drawn the day before chemo in case results determine cancellation of my infusion as is true, from time to time.  In that way, Will and I don’t wait around for an hour and a half, social distancing from others, when results prove our wait was for naught.  I mean, if chemo is a go, it’s not as though we’re too busy to venture out two days in a row.

 Before we leave Mayo, following each infusion, a heartfelt message always finds its way into the chemo comment box, thanking the entire staff for their friendly smiles, which ignite my own.
🌻🌈Annie

PS
So, as the photo would have shown, I chose to wear my Superman Pjs to Mayo, yesterday, and never during these past six months, within all of the many cubicles to which I’ve been assigned, have I seen anything like this on the wall ...

Photo to appear once Blogger releases my albums ...

Once again, just as blogger is creating change for the better, transition toward improvement can stir frustration into the mix unless we choose to adopt the peaceful attitude of—this too shall pass—most likely before sanity and safety concerning C-19 have been restored across our nation, which has been hurting for leadership inspired to create change for the better of a lasting nature for all people whose well being within the world power of the USA is highly valued as our unforeseen future continues to unfold ...
👩🏻🌈🌻

SO HAVE YOU ANY CLUE AS TO WHAT MY THINK TANK PLANS TO DO, TODAY?

Good morning,
As last week was rough, I’m thinking of yesterday’s chemo as being so hard at work pummeling the tumor as to forget about biting into me!😊

Though feeling minimally unwell, so far, this had been a ‘no worse’ day.

As I’m always eager to create diversion to distract my mind from dwelling on trying times, dragging on and on, and being that protests continue based in the fact that the powers to be refuse to face reality so as to get their act together, ASAP (don’t even get me started about C-19 spreading around town like wild fire, UMASKED), my spirit lifted another notch once two neighbors, book club friends, inspired me to embrace an iconic character of super strength, this afternoon, when I return to Mayo for the shot that stimulates my bone marrow to produce healthy blood cells necessary to jumpstart my energy (and more importantly—keep me alive by elevating my platelets, hemoglobin and red and white cells so I don’t bleed out or invite infection to smite me down).  As this shot is administered muscularly into my arm, my port does not need to be accessed, suggesting that button down blouses are not required to expose my port to accept all kinds of tubes, which remain attached and fiddled with during each infusion as bags of medication are added and removed, so guess what I’ll be wearing when, masked and ungloved, Irwin wheels me into the clinic, this afternoon?  (Mayo now requires ungloved hands, believing gloves, worn for hours in the hospital, pick up and accumulate germs, which would not be the case if hands were washed frequently with sanitizer, wall dispensers in plain sight, readily available about four feet apart.  No touching needed.  Upturned palm placed under dispenser activates delivery of foaming sanitizer directly into hand.)

PS
Yesterday, I was glad to hear the PA, suggest my taking Adivan to calm restless miseries if they manage to break through my positive attitude holding hands with my host of inner strengths, all resolute to hold side effects at bay as if a game of Red Rover was at hand.  And though that bottle of pills has been placed next to my bathroom sink (in keeping with my trait of just-in-case readiness), I’m planning to enjoy a no worse week.  Stay well, dear friends!
🙋🏻‍♀️❤️🌈🌻💪🏼

PSS
Drats!  Just received a text from our son, Steven, telling us that, today, he learned that upon going to his office to pick up his mail, a couple of days ago, he was exposed to C-19.  Oy!  It was inevitable, with the virus is running wild through our streets, that one of us would be exposed.  Thank goodness, Steven (having asthma) quarantines seriously while taking precautionary measures whenever he goes out to mask up, glove up, wear his glasses and keep hand sanitizer handy in his pocket.  Tomorrow, he’ll be tested, and though this is time for Steven to grab a cape and be man of steel—reality suggests that all who love this dynamic man is hoping for the best while we have no choice other than to wait and see ... not easy, believe me ...
Annie❤️🌈🌻💪🏼

REACTIONS OF FAMILY AND FRIENDS TO THE WAY MY BRAIN THINKS

Having received health update #19, here’s one of many replies received from a couple, dear friends, whom I had the pleasure of meeting while they were honeymooning and I was pregnant with Barry.  Judy, a nurse, met Ron in the hospital when he was a resident in neurosurgery.  I chose their reply, because their response mirrors the impression of me offered up by most of my extended family and friends during this trying time in my life:

FABULOUS  NEWS!  Annie, you are teaching ALL of us how to deal with adversity. Thank you for all you share (it must be exhausting)!

Hugs from California,

Judy and Ron

My reply: 

Not exhausting at all, dear friends, as I don’t begin to write till words flow readily out of the depths of my mind so naturally that the weight of an inner conflict that’s subconscious in nature (meaning I’ve had no conscious awareness of lugging around a confounding mental burden) lifts as though all on its own, which offers my energy level sound reason to feel relieved of a heavy yoke, and once clarity is mine, my mental state, feeling freed of confusion concerning a difficult choice that’s in need of being made, my lost sense of wholeness revitalizes, spontaneously, from the inside out, stimulating my host of personal strengths to say:  Annie—You’ve got this.

In fact, this reply to your email is a prime example of my faith in the intuitive portion of my brain guiding my processor toward releasing trains of thought, which offer my conscious awareness glimpses of insights that shine a bright spotlight upon how best to restructure my personal perceptions of forgotten details, which once onboard, serve to deepen a sense of peaceful repose within me that proves necessary if I am to experience the zen environment, which, during trying times (that last overlong) requires guidance from deep within if a gracious hold onto my connection to sanity is to be maintained—Ohmm ❤️Annie

What do my family and friends make of responses, like this?  I think most think I’m smarter than I think I am, while others may see me arm in arm with Shirley MacLaine (which is A-okay with me).😊

As to how I’m feeling, today (noting that chemo is but a few hours away), if the truth be told, I feel more beaten up than up beat, but then, that’s to be expected knowing side effects to be cumulative—hopefully today’s infusion will be kinder to me than last week’s proved to be.  Following today’s infusion, only two to go—and Steven’s coming over with Ravi, this evening, in hopes of getting a jump over reactions that may emerge, later tonight.    One of my friends suggested wearing my Superman PJs to Mayo, today.  Now that would be a hoot, other than the fact that my port can’t be accessed while wearing a tee.

Annie🌈🌻

HEALTH UPDATE #19–I CAN THINK THIS OR THAT ...

Every day, upon awakening

I can frighten myself half to death

By thinking I’m one day closer to

A very scary surgery

Or

Every day, upon awakening

I can refortify my connection to courage

By thinking I’m one day closer to

Surgery being successful and over

Every night when I go to sleep

I can remain wakeful by

Seeing myself as awakening

One day closer to a very scary surgery

Or

Every night when I go to sleep

I can think of awakening

One day closer to

Surgery being successful and over

Late last week, Will sent the most recent

CT of my chest to

The heart surgeon in Houston, overnight

We received a call from his PA

Mayo had sent the wrong disc

Thank goodness, Will’s frustration was

Short lived, as he called David’s best friend

Adam, an orthopedic surgeon at Mayo, for help

Thanks to Adam, the  correct disc was in

The hands of my heart surgeon in

Houston within 24 hours, and yesterday

We received a call from the surgeon’s PA, again

When Will heard her say that

The heart surgeon declared

My tumor readily resectable

My husband was visibly elated

As for me, chills ran

Up and down my spine as

Fear emerged from within

A dark place inside my mind where

Deeper truth, pushing denial aside, no longer

Allowed me to lie to myself as fear—

Not for my life but of experiencing excruciating

Pain, yet again—pierced my conscious awareness

Will, I’m so scared!

You have a right to be scared, Annie

Hold onto me.  We’re a team

And following his lead ...

I clung to my husband, who

Admitted to harboring fear, as well

Will, I need to cry

Go ahead, sometimes, when alone, I cry, too

So cry on Will’s shoulder I did

Not great big sobs but rather

A few silent tears, which felt more like

Rain drops than wind swept angst or even fear

At times, emotional release proves

So complex as to somehow offer

Relief that remains in

An unidentified state of being

When it comes to my present protocol, each round of chemo is composed of two infusions.  A week passes between the first and second infusion.  Then two weeks pass before the next round begins.  So, following tomorrow’s infusion, two weeks will pass before my 8th (and hopefully final) round takes place, followed by four weeks to revitalize my blood supply in readiness to undergo two back-to-back days of surgery—heart first, lung second.

As this last round of chemo was less toxic (to ward off spontaneous bleeding) than previous infusions, physical miseries along with excessive fatigue took me by surprise.  Even with the shower chair installed, I found myself too fatigued to bathe, over the next couple of days.  Luckily, several weeks back, I’d ordered moistened bathing cloths, as seen on Shark Tank, offering me an alternative method of freshening up.

One night, I dreamt my hair was back.  (First sighting of brows and lashes, several weeks ago, was a tease—every wisp of hair, defining eyes, gone, again, with promise from everyone who has undergone chemo that all will return, good as new).  Face so round from steroids that with the absence of hair, each time my smile appears, I see the ‘happy face’ emoji staring back from my mirror.  No worries, though, as hair is sprouting all over my scalp.  No surprise—considering my age and frequency of touch ups—it is white.  Not salt and pepper.  Not gray.  Pure white as Mary Poppin’s spoon full of sugar ... trust me, there’s nothing boring about working your hardest to save your life.  (If you’ve read this before, I hope you’ll cut me some slack.  Drawing my eyebrows on (which invariably fail to line up), every day, offers me reason to laugh.)

Today, I texted Adam (his chief of orthopedic surgery, during his residency, had been Will’s second year resident when my husband was chief resident).  Adam, who literally grew up in our home, weekends (before Bryce was born) loves his sister, Rachel and his three Shapiro brothers.

Adam, how can we thank you enough!  Will spoke with the cardiac surgeon’s PA (who received my chest CT within 24 hours of your having sent it), and after studying it, the surgeon declared the tumor resectable and predicts the time frame for surgery as being late in July.  Though the thoracic surgeon has to agree, Will is elated.  As for me, I got scared.  Will held me, all night.  And instead of tossing and turning, I slept soundly.  Needless to say, a sleeping pill helped.  Then, this morning, my wonderful husband, who anticipates my every need, said:  Annie, surgery is what you’ve been working so hard, over these past six months, to achieve.  Somehow, hearing the truth spelled out so clearly jump started my reconnection to courage, and a huge sigh of relief was released followed by a warm hug.  Adam,  just as you’ve been an integral part of our family, forever, you’ve chosen to be an integral part of my recovery, right from the start.

We’ve loved you so much, Adam, ever since the day of your birth!

🙋🏻‍♀️❤️🌈🌻Heidi  PS thoracic surgeon received the disc, today.

Adam’s reply (with his permission):

Your message makes my heart sing! Im so glad they got the disc but even more thrilled with the great news!!

You and Will have truly been an inspiration in how you have faced this - you definitely taught us a lot about how to live life when we were kids but I think you have taught us even more now that we are adults.

I cannot wait for this to be behind you and I am looking forward to celebrating with everyone when you have beaten this.

Love you!!! ❤️❤️

Blood tests at Mayo, this morning

Results are good

Second half of 7th round of chemo, tomorrow

Followed on Friday by shot stimulating

Bone marrow production of healthy blood cells

Then two weeks before final, two step round of

Chemo is administered—Yes!  Yes!  Yes!

Onward—prescription for a healthy future:

Quarantine (Unlike our desert community—Geez!)

Wear positively focused smiles

And masks

Social distance

Be safe not sorry

Find reasons to ignite laughter

Today, I wore one red shoe, one bright blue

Unlimited Refills

Repeat

Feel my love!

🙋🏻‍♀️❤️🌈🌻Annie

Sent from my iPad

THANK GOODNESS FOR SHARK TANK AND COMMON SENSE

How tired am I?  Even with the shower chair installed, I’ve been too fatigued to bathe, over these past two days.  Luckily, several weeks back, I’d ordered moistened bathing cloths, seen on Shark Tank, which offer me an alternative method of freshening up.

Last night, I dreamt my hair was back. Earlier sighting of brows and lashes proved a tease—every wisp of eye enhancing definition, gone, again, with promise from everyone who has undergone chemo that lashes, brows and scalp will surely sprout, good as new.  Face so round from steroids that with the absence of hair, everywhere, my smile resembles the happy face emoji. Luckily, this, too, shall pass, and brows, lashes and tresses shall, once again, be mine.

The tone of today’s text suggests my spirit lightening up in readiness for next infusion of chemo, this coming Wednesday.  Though days tend toward long, somehow weeks fly swiftly by ...

Today, I found that my uncoiled anger has transitioned toward refueling common sense (necessary to unify solution seeking powers of separate factions of our population), which was absent when the release of emotional reactions raged, back and forth.

Having taken a brief break from Facebook, I found myself able to resume scrolling thru posts much earlier than originally anticipated for two reasons:  Though fatigue remains my constant companion, my sense of fury, ignited by horrendous injustice, had served to heighten chemo’s sensations of physical agitation.  Given time to calm down, eased my way toward regaining the zen state of mind that I find necessary to maintaining my hold onto sanity during months of battling cancer, which accentuates my need to submit to sequestering myself more stringently than others, being that I’m high risk along with the fact that mustering the energy to enjoy a walk outside is beyond me.

And secondly, as fury on Facebook, which polarizes people into actively antagonistic camps, has also calmed, I’ve been participating in proactive discussions filled with common sense concerning pressing need to legislate lasting change for the better.  In other words, I believe that our nation’s nose dive into anarchy has galvanized our awareness of need to take serious steps forward, concerning inequality, which exacerbates injustice, rather than reverting back into complacency, as had been true each time protestors, along with rioters, were arrested by an over zealous police force in the past.  Though attitudes of complacency prove classic, time for all to unite and create change is long overdue.

I believe that when considering need of change for the better, going on 300 years, many more people are beginning to assume proactive roles, voicing solidarity, openly, rather than watching from the sidelines, mouths agape, frustrations raw, each time brutality, based in inequality, repeats itself.  Though historically, complacency has outweighed consequences that fit the crime, I believe that under trump, much of our nation’s populous (both red and blue) is finally awakening to the certainty that bullies must be called out at every level of leadership or anarchy reigns supreme.

Just as termites undermine the structure of a home until they are seen, I am hopeful that our eyes have finally opened more fully to hardships endured when large portions of our populous fall back into the mental state of complacency rather than addressing need to proactively unite so as to create lasting change for the better across the board.

Though in no way do I condone violence of any kind, history concurs that the squeaky wheel get the oil.  It’s classic.  On the other hand, lumping all police, together, is no different from feeling that all whites bully people of color.  BTW, once more of us become aware of the fact that the majority of our police force is made up of minorities, our perceptions, concerning creating lasting change by adopting realistic attitudes, may rebalance so naturally as to draw people in separate camps, together, in ways that prove beneficial to one and all—and isn’t that the message sent by The Lady In the harbor, whose torch, held high, welcomes the downtrodden to live in a land free of unjust persecution.  Annie 🙋🏻‍♀️🇺🇸
🙋🏻‍♀️❤️🌈🌻Annie

MAINTAINING ZEN DURING RIOTS AND QUARANTINE—AND CANCER

I just thanked a friend for suggesting I watch Nigerian author, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, on uTube, who spoke with eloquence about premature judgments (which in our defense, our brains are preprogrammed to make).

Each time we’re reminded that every person’s life is composed of many stories, most of which contribute to an individual’s personal growth, we offer humility another opportunity to transform antagonists or acquaintances into mutually respectful friends.  It’s classic.

As our sons suggest that humidity and heat are soaring in Southern California, hopefully their discomfort while quarantining will be short lived, freeing families to hike and bike.  With no hope for balmy days in our desert community till mid October, anything under 105 sounds good to me.  Each time Steven and Ravi enjoy a playdate on our patio with Gramma and Papa sequestered behind our Arcadia door, they, wearing bathing suits, take playful dips in our spa to cool off—no need for towels as they air dry in less than sixty seconds flat.

I’m hoping that after three more infusions of chemo, followed by four weeks of healing, my surgery in Houston will be scheduled sometime in early August.  As of recent weeks, we’ve been in contact with the cardiac and thoracic surgeons, making the reality of this serious surgery rise before me in 3D ...  so, I remind myself to focus on one-day-at-a-time while relaxing into the thought that once in Houston, all I need do is to lie quietly on the operating table, place my faith in my surgeons’s expertise, count to ten and fall asleep, knowing that my task, on that particular day, is far easier to carry out than theirs. Or Will’s.  Or our sons’, being that pacing while waiting for good news feels interminable. 

As to the riots and my compassion for everyone’s fury at lack of proactive protective leadership, my angst concerning inequality and injustice is vented by penning posts here and on Facebook followed by consciously separating myself from any news reports in hopes of maintaining—no, that’s the wrong wording—regaining the zen mental state that I feel need to recreate, every day, to keep my sense of sanity peaceful, knowing that juggling quarantining, chemo fatigue and injustice offer my active brain too much time to wander ever more deeply into the realm of suppressed frustration concerning personal, national and global problems, which remain unresolved.  I choose to regain my connection to inner calmness, day after day, by mindfully redirecting my focus toward counting my blessings which, to my good fortune, number many—such as Will’s untiring attentiveness, our sons’ devotion, our munchkins’ antics, and family and friends, whose love keep my mind actively engaged by remaining in touch, pretty much daily.

And being that laughter is the best medicine, here’s a bit of levity to buoy your spirit and mine, today
(Marshmallows are much less messy than grapes, which, when squished, shoot juice on the loose)

Stay well and proactive, dear friends, wherever you are ...

🙋🏻‍♀️🌈🌻Annie

GRATEFUL FOR FATIGUE

Penned Thursday, edited, re-published Friday—

Wednesday’s infusion of chemo went well.  Only one medication from now on, the lesser of two evils to insure my platelets of not plummeting as happened with my last infusion.  Luckily, infusion days have not been a problem as meds administered through my port before chemo to stave off nausea and dizziness prove effective for me.  I didn’t zonk out upon coming home, and so far, today, on-going fatigue is my only side affect.  During Wednesday’s appointment with my oncologist’s PA, I was reminded that chemo’s side effects are cumulative, so fatigue will be mine till my last infusion has passed and most likely for several weeks after that while awaiting surgery.  Why grateful for fatigue?  Months of fatigue beats months of nausea.  Agreed?
🙋🏻‍♀️🌈🌻Annie

Uh oh!
I spoke too soon
By day’s end, yesterday
Fatigue found
A companion to
Keep it company as
A second side effect of
Chemo and steroids
Emerged, causing
Every cell that
Makes my body whole to
Do its own thing as
Though itching to get out
From under my skin
So sleep refused to come
As if repressed angst had
Need to release to
Protect me from
Succumbing to this most
Recent invasion of
Microscopic critters
Which have been
Swimming against
The current of my natural
Blood stream as though
This week’s toxic
Infusion of chemo
(Though less potent) is
So intent upon poisoning
The sarcoma that by
Nightfall it had lost
Its way, causing
Every fiber of
My being to direct
My over active brain to
Cope by hoping that
Sleep would come so that
With the start of
A brand new day
I’d feel better than
Had been true, yesterday
And having decided to
Take a break from
All of the anger
Raging on Facebook in
Hopes of regaining
The zen mental attitude
That has now escaped
Me, I’ve wiled away
These last few minutes
By offering up
An in depth answer to
The question concerning
How I’m feeling—however
No worries, because
Everyone has an off day
And we both know that
Given time, my body’s
Agitation will relax,
My mind will feel peaceful
And my spirit will
Rebound, transforming
Today’s angst into gratefulness
Tomorrow. And so
With hopes that your day felt
Better than mine
Tis high time to rest my mind ...
👩🏻🌈🌻Annie

WISHFUL THINKING GROWS EXPANSIVE, OVER NIGHT

A word of caution—please inhale deeply before tackling today’s train of thought—ok—here goes ...

With hopes that today offers you time to smell flowers while enjoying birdsong, I, myself, am so tired of chemo’s side effects that wishful thinking can’t help but picture this afternoon’s infusion as being a well trained sniper, aiming its hit solely at the tumor while my spirit, which needs to curl up and rest peacefully within my self designated homemade nest, continues to release uncoiling angst, barely suppressed from conscious awareness, concerning the main reason why the underdog, rioting in our streets, is expressing its ravenous hunger for nourishment (withheld by lack of leadership), which can no longer be compressed within tightly lidded cans stamped with dates, long past due, concerning the fact that under trump’s inability to pull the wool over his own shifty little eyes, many voters who’d elected Midas to reign supreme over our nation are hitting bottom as we’ve allowed our value system to slide ever more swiftly down the slippery slope where anarchy awaits to swallow us, one and all—unless new leadership at the helm inspires the majority of our nation’s populous to take a leap of faith over anarchy in hopes of following the compassionate intelligent leadership of Joe Biden, whose comprehensive experiential guidance concerning democratic rules of order will encourage our populous to unite so as to create the promised land where the creed of equality and justice for all proves inclusive of every color of skin, all religious affiliations and both genders of every age.

Thank goodness for intuitive trains of thought that offer my proactive mind and wearied body sound reason to release pent up angst so as to relax more fully while my indomitable spirit invites today’s infusion of chemo to effect change for the better by battering the tumor, hopefully, without battering the rest of me, which imagines every healthy cell standing in solidarity so as to contribute in some unforeseen way to my regaining a wholesome semblance of good health as my future unfolds just as our nation is working toward shrinking the tumor in The White House so as to disarm its false sense of self-empowerment before our nation slips so far into the bottomless pit of despair as to remain blind to the fact that healing depends upon the unveiling of a host of inner strengths uniting against the invader, whose unhealthy presence violates whatever it takes to rebuild a thriving economy in which a community of people of every color and ethnicity feel safely protected by the laws of the land so as to live, side by side, in peaceful prosperity, at last..

And having said my piece, today’s infusion of chemo is ready to wrestle with the invasive tumor within, followed by my sense of wholeness curling up within the peaceful place, which awaits to welcome my host of inner strengths home where resting peacefully proves necessary before I, like our nation, can continue to undergo a serious, life saving transition toward surgery thus ensuring that the unwelcome nature of the tumor within will be wholly exhumed, once and for all.

Though my spirit/mind/body connection remains positively resourceful, I’ll admit that after many months of hospitalizations, physical miseries and several life saving blood transfusions, I’m feeling weary of chemo keeping me so wearied as to be unable to muster the energy to walk to the window adjacent to our front door to wave to friends, holding out homemade offerings of love, each time one or another rings our bell.  Though I always want to say thank you followed by blowing heartfelt kisses that’s not been in the cards, as of yet.   So when I say—Time for a new deck—I’m sure you get my drift. 🌈🌻
.
Whew!  Talk about feeling weary, I’m really tuckered, now.  After resting for a while, I’ll reread this post in hopes that it makes sense.  And if it does, in addition to being publishing here, perhaps it will show up on Facebook, as well.
😴Annie

WISHFUL THINKING

I was recently messaged by a well respected spiritual advisor with whom I’d lost touch for many years following his move from the southwestern desert to the southeastern coast where very close friends of ours fully recognize their good fortune to be amongst his congregants.

I understand his caution about voicing political views publicly, most especially at a time when frustrations are raw.

Each time my frustration with irrationality spikes, igniting my ire to write of impeachment on Facebook, that’s actually wishful thinking voicing my impatience for change, aloud.  Though we had need to know how many millions remain deeply rooted in the ignorance of prejudice, I believe that every day trump’s leave taking is delayed sees our nation slip further into the black hole that our next administration will need to fill with pro active legislation so as to resolve the massive conundrums, which continue to undermine the value system upon which thirteen independent colonies were originally united.  I believe our nation had to hit bottom as a whole in order awaken our need to become fully aware of every aspect of life that’s in dire need of repair so that, with clarity, our values and priorities will actually match.

The last time my spiritual advisor and I were together was in my bedroom, the day before I was admitted to Barrows for brain surgery, which, thank God, proved more than successful.  Now we meet, again, before I fly to Houston for a serious heart/lung surgery, once chemo is completed, sometime this summer.  I believe our coming together at two highly vulnerable times in my life is bashert.  Meant to be.  And I pray that my dear friend and his precious family stay home, stay well, stay aware of each one’s need of personal growth and laughter.  Lots of laughter!
🙋🏻‍♀️🌈🌻Heidi

WHY ARE WE STILL CRAZY AFTER ALL THESE YEARS?

When people ask—when will change actually take place, here is my response—I believe lasting change depends upon voting for those who actually care to make a difference by appointing judges, who will call brutality to task instead of looking the other way ...  I’m encouraged that change for the better continues to progress, though much too slowly, as seen by how many white faces intermingle with protesting African Americans.  As to rioting, I do not condone destruction and looting, at all, other than to say that raging reactions, which create fear across the board, match the fear felt by blacks when stopped by police for no reason other than the color of their skin ...

People say it’s crazy all over the country as if surprised rather than expecting riots to break free once emotional suppression of rage is provoked to explode.  Why feel surprised when all adults have been here, before?

It comes as no surprise that suppressed rage ignites as spontaneously as wildfire (most especially after the added frustration of months of quarantine) once anything provokes a hair trigger release of condensed emotional TNT at which time, groups of angry folk naturally morph into mobs, and every time anarchy is fully released to run rampant through the streets, the first thing to go is any semblance of self control.  None of this is crazy.  It all makes perfect sense.

As reasons for riots are not new or too complex to understand, we, on the ‘outside’, looking in, must really look into our hearts so as to ask:  Will I morph back into complacency each time rioting has passed or has my awareness of becoming proactive about brotherhood deepened so as to remain so intolerant of inequality and injustices that my need to educate myself to vote for those who will legislate change for the better remains self motivated?

Over these last three years, we’ve come to see why living in a Democracy cannot be taken for granted.  In three short year’s, trump’s revolving door administration has created anarchy. What is curfew all about?  Here’s what curfew is all about: If any portion of out population does not feel safe driving their cars because of police brutality then eventually, it will not be safe for you and I to go out and about after dark.  And not until we grow aware of the fact that we’re all in this messed up state of being, together, will lasting change for the better be effected for everyone involved.

Interesting that my mind feels need to release thoughts like these when emotional engagement in casual conversation via FaceTiming feels too taxing unless my sons’ and grandkids’ smiles are enticing my own to come out to play online.  Makes me wonder how much of my fatigue, which I attribute to chemo, is actually a result of anger repressed, right now?

Today, I came to understand why I can Zoom with family when FaceTiming with friends feels taxing.  While interacting with family, I can breathe it all in while participating very little myself.  FaceTime asks me to engage in conversation, often times, one on one, which, in my fatigued state, wears me out, far too quickly.

As several friends, whom I love, deeply, ask to FaceTime, I feel relieved at having expressed how taxing engaging in conversation feels to me.  Until today, I had no clue as to why FaceTiming feels more demanding than enjoyable.

Every day, no matter that anarchy is running rampant through our streets, I awaken determined to recreate the zen emotional environment necessary to maintaining my spirit’s upbeat attitude while cancer, ravaging my good health, battles away with chemo, which also ravages my good health, which is why I choose to do whatever proves necessary to remain calm while thousands are dying from C-19 amid cities burning with rage.

As is true of us all, I have my work cut out for me, and thus far, texting with loved ones works best for me, because I can stop ‘feeling’ between sentences so as to consciously relax my mind before continuing at my own pace.

Socks still waiting patiently to be tucked into their own spaces while tweaked weakened back continues to process through healing at its own pace.  Though some things can’t be hurried, burning through complacency may prove necessary to hurry change for the better once pain grows too deep for people to contain suppressed fury with decorum intact

Though in no way do I condone rioting, my comprehension of human nature suggests this to be the main root of our problem concerning personal safety:   ‘Their’ problems (whether they are African Americans, Muslims, Jews, Hispanics, Latinos, Asians, Chinese, Women, children and the elderly) are our problems, because bullying is bullying, and when the perpetrators of abuse are those who have been empowered to uphold the laws of this land, they must be called to task just as is true of every half baked bully in our schools.

You see, when your problems are too long ignored, eventually they become mine, and therefore, everyone’s intelligence has need to work, together, toward mutually respectful resolution, once and for all.  Otherwise, complacency will see us all experiencing same-old-same-old, repeatedly.

And now, having released my compressed suppressed state of angst, tis time to inhale deeply while refocusing my mind toward recreating my healing state of zen—Ohhhm ...

I’M SO ANGRY!

I’m so angry!
I remember feeling out-raged at injustice many times over my lifetime, but this time, I hope the rage I feel proves as contagious as the C-19 virus.  The rage.  Not the riots.  Because anger serves as fuel.  Not fuel to burn and loot, but rather fuel to create change for the better.

Too many years have passed without legislation re-evaluating our justice system.  As to human nature, we, who have been too complacent, had little idea of how many red hatted people continue to harbor hard-hearted hatreds, which have been permitted to flaunt themselves, openly, ever since Democrats failed to get out the vote, clearing the way for red hats to elect a bigoted imbecile who, each time he opens his mouth, makes a mockery of the highest office of leadership throughout the land, which may be the home of the brave but has not been the home of the free.  That lie cannot be passed forward from generation to generation, anymore!

All oppressed people must stop fearing each other’s differences so as to unite with those who set a high value on creating change for the better that proves lasting in nature, across the board.  Though our spoken value system and priorities do not yet match, I can see for myself that change for the better is slowly Progressing forward considering the numbers of white faced protestors intermingling with every variation of black.  On the other hand, as all lives matter, change has need to be hurried when brutality feels free to kill vulnerable people at will.

Our nation has not been a melting pot.  Our nation continues to be a pot boiling over with rage, and that will not change until change for the better unites everyone who will vote trump and his senator cronies out of office offering the USA this opportunity to start anew—please God.

Though love, alone, does not conquer all, embracing brotherhood, based in loving each other unconditionally, offers us a good place to start effecting heartfelt change for the better, at long last ...

Twas not the Boston Tea Party that won our independence
Twas intelligent people coming together to mindfully pen a legal document that
Created a creed, which, for the times, offered the populous moral guidelines to follow.  And I believe tis way past time to create a document that’s mindful of barring injustice based in color, gender and age, today.

I mean, if you want to talk crazy, what could be crazier than abusing a person because of skin color?

Seriously—why aren’t blue eyed blondes warring with dark eyed brunettes?
Annie