Tuesday, July 28, 2020

A LIFETIME OF TOMORROWS IS ONLY A DAY AWAY!

Today, I’ll undergo heart surgery
Tomorrow, I’ll undergo lung surgery
And for all of the tomorrows to come
Let’s work together toward healing
Yesterday’s most painful wounds by
Respecting each other’s differences so
Proactively, today, that rather than
Participating in sit-ins
We’ll model kindness toward
One another for our young until
Need for protests transforms into love ins
And in keeping with today’s
Intuitive train of thought ...
Let’s celebrate life—until
We meet again—by
Filling our hearts with love, which is
Naturally expressed as joy each time
We take a leap of faith toward
Enjoying each other’s embrace
πŸ™‹πŸ»‍♀️❤️🌈🌻Annie


Monday, July 27, 2020

ONE MOTHER’S HEARTFELT OUTPOURING HIGHLIGHTS THE MAIN REASON WHY PEACEFUL PROTESTS AND FIERY RIOTS ROCK OUR NATION’S ATTITUDE OF COMPLACENCY

Being that repetition is not redundant when the goal is retention, let’s refresh certain  facts concerning a belief  system that remains actively alive throughout ‘the south’ before revealing the text that David received from Zetty, a hard working, single mother of two ...

“That the UDC website as recently as August 2018 included this line: “Slaves, for the most part, were faithful and devoted. Most slaves were usually ready and willing to serve their masters.”

“That 700 monuments exalting people who fought for black chattel slavery still stand as well as statuary and monuments in the form of “loyal slave” markers— which perpetuate the image of content enslaved blacks and benevolent white enslavers.”

“That the UDC tried to erect a monument in Washington, D.C., "in memory of the faithful slave mammies of the South.” The Senate signed off on it, but the idea never came to fruition.”

“That the UDC’s effort at placing a monument in Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, which plays fast and loose with the biography of Haywood “Heyward” Shepherd (the UDC didn’t even bother to get his first name right), a free black man whom an inscription depicts as a “faithful negro” who chose slavery over freedom, as all “the best” blacks did.”

These “bold faced lie(s), passed from one generation to the next ...” perpetuate attitudes ... and when considering change for the better—attitude is everything.

Thanks to my son, David and his brother (joined together via Big Brothers Big Sisters) Bryce, my eyes have opened to attitudes that persist in plain sight from Civil War days to—right now! 

Thankfully, I believe our nation is beginning to demonstrate proactive change for the better taking place before our eyes as the makeup of peaceful protesters has transitioned toward the integral inclusion of people of every color, who, for the most part, are responsibly wearing masks while marching toward claiming freedoms concerning life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, which, in countless ways both subtle and blatant, have been denied to those who are deserving of your respect and mine, 

Today, you’ll read the text that David forwarded to me during a time when chemo was distressing my body and blood supply with miseries that blurred my mental capacity from publishing that which I plan to post, below, so that, together, we can, more seriously than ever, consider the importance of the words ‘black lives matter’ as expressed to David by Bryce’s mother, Zetty, while recent protests took off and riots fired up, throughout our nation.  And I believe that Zetty’s heartfelt acknowledgment of David’s loving relationship with and mindful influence over the development of her beloved son, Bryce, over these past ten years, will inspire your spirit to grow ever more naturally proactive as has proved true of mine ...



Bryce, David, Zetty, and little sister, Shaonnie

During that initial time of peaceful protesting and fiery rioting brought about by the brutal slaying of a man by those who had taken an oath to protect one and all from harm, Zetty’s heartfelt words inspired my foggy mental state to dissipate, and with clarity revitalized, I engaged in lengthy conversations with Will, Barry, Steven, David and Bryce, each of whom had focused upon proactive changes taking place throughout our nation based in the fact that millions of eyes have been opening to acknowledge the role played by passive complacency, over hundreds of years.

Whereas earlier during those deeply troubled turbulent weeks, I’d felt so impassioned with repressed frustration uncoiling, subconsciously, that my defense system heeded intuitive need to retreat from all social media so as to recreate the zen emotional environment that maintains my personal sense of peacefulness while a multiplicity of trying times, all beyond my control, swirled, round and round, inside my head until Zetty’s heartfelt outpouring re-ignited my spirit’s connection to clarity, which stimulated my think tank to feel so positively focused that each time I answered the phone, an hour long conversation ensued with one of my sons, as if every discussion had been scripted to take place, one after another, all within a day’s time.

First with Steven, then Bryce, then Barry, followed by David.  Each one feeling need to express personal perceptions, impressions and experiences with neighbors, colleagues, and friends.

As my mornings, during the pandemic, begin around 10am, my engagement with each impassioned discussion (separated from one another by maybe half an hour) pretty much saw my day consumed with highlights of each one’s experiences, most of which concerned proactive changes arising within their communities while other experiences exposed bigotry to the ninth degree.

So once the phone was quiet, what did I do in case this sudden surge of mental clarity proved short lived?  Well, after penning a post to my blog, I finished reorganizing my sock drawers (until. being short of breath saw me in need of lying down), because that task proved within my realm of control, and thus, did I awaken the next morning with a feeling of personal accomplishment concerning having raised three little boys to aspire toward developing into a harmonic trio of loving, open minded men, and in addition to that I was glad to see not even one pair of socks staring up defiantly at me from my closet floor, today, since I’d felt too weak to complete that simple task for weeks.  Hooray!

Over the next several days, many hours were filled with FaceTime calls (from Barry, Steven, David and Bryce), each of which offered my flattened spirit reason to inflate with parental pride.  And then dawned the day when a heartfelt outpouring via text from Bryce’s mother overwhelmed my mind with an emotional reaction, which still runs too deep to express with clarity intact, so rather than trying to put words together that are not yet ready to line up sensibly, I’m about to copy Zetty’s text below in hopes of conveying the heartfelt state of a hard working, single, mother’s mind during trying times.

Though my body is still fatigued, the present state of my mind and spirit has regained an immeasurable sense of inner strength, and here is why that’s true:

I believe our nation is beginning to demonstrate proactive change taking place before our eyes as the makeup of peaceful protesters has transitioned toward the integral inclusion of people of every color, who, for the most part, are responsibly wearing masks.  Below you’ll find the text that I received, several weeks ago, from David.

Hi Mom,
Thought you’d like to see this text Zetty (Bryce’s mom) just sent me.
Love you,
David

Good Morning David,

Thank you whole heartily for opening your space, time, home and family to Bryce.  Thank you for helping me raise him and for being the consistent male in his life.  I am forever grateful for your entire family. THE WHOLE FAMILY!

As each of you love on Bryce as another brother and son, I couldn’t  have prayed for a better family for my son to be adopted into.

I thank you for not treating Bryce like an accessory (like a credit card, pulling him out at convenient times).

The foundation you placed in his heart is like no other.  Bryce respects each brother’s opinions strongly, but of course you are his favorite.. Lol
Please Please! let your parents know
Especially...  your mom πŸ’– that I say THANK YOU!
For loving my son as much as I love and protect him. I thank you!!  Ler her know I thank her for not allowing Bryce to be excused by his actions or lack of actions.

Having him participate in the family Jewish culture and to continue to teach and talk with him.
Bryce has the best Surrogate Mother and Father!!

If I had to redo my life, I would without a doubt walk the steps, knowing that my son has been blessed into the most loved, crazy, adventurous, hard working, compassionate family oriented family!
I love you all πŸŒ·πŸ’ž

Pop Shapiro for looking over Bryce’s shoulder and letting him make errors and having his way of delivering his words of wisdoms.

Thank you for not seeing color, but seeing Bryce as the little brother who got the short end of the stick... the circle of life ..πŸ€£πŸ˜‰ love you guys!

Weeks ago, I learned that David has been protesting peacefully (in the rear so as to maintain social distancIng) along side of his friends and Bryce.  Though we discussed the dangers involved in walking the walk, David said the attitude of unity that he’s been experiencing is a beautiful thing.

Barry has been debating with friends who are staunch republicans—one friend has been listening to Barry’s views with an open minded heart while another, being a hot head, said he is terminating their friendship unless the Biden sign is removed from Barry’s front yard—and then, as this person went on to express more of his views, a true redneck, demonstrating his ignorance of brotherhood, was clearly exposed.

Upon hearing that the bigot (cited in the paragraph above) has declared that his nine year old son, a very nice child, is barred from playing with Ray, though the boys have been close friends since preschool, here was Bryce’s reaction via text followed by my response::
“That is absolutely disgusting. All I can do is pray for his ignorance and insecurity. Shaking my head.”

Yes, Bryce.  That person’s mindset is utterly ignorant.  And, just like an infestation of termites that must be clearly seen before treatment to repair the entire structure can begin from the inside out, he has outed himself.  On the other hand, the fact that your mind turned toward praying for this lout’s recovery from ignorance and insecurity indicates the heightened level of your emotional maturity!
I love you and have the utmost respect for your attitude ...
❤️πŸ‘¨πŸ»‍πŸ¦²πŸ‘¨πŸΌ‍πŸ³πŸ‘¨πŸΌ‍πŸŽ“πŸ‘¨πŸΌ‍πŸŽ“πŸ‘¨πŸ»‍πŸ’»πŸ¦ΈπŸΎ‍♂️

Sunday, July 26, 2020

WHO IS ZETTY?

Who is Zetty?  Patience, please—you’ll know soon enough ...

With my heart surgery (followed by lung surgery) less than 48 hours away, I’ve thoroughly tired of penning posts concerning cancer, Covid and trump.

Thank goodness, my son, David and his brother (via Big Brothers Big Sisters) Bryce have opened my eyes to so much that continues to persist in plain sight as if The Civil War had just been fought, offering me reason to wonder if the bitterness between north and south will ever end.

Having mentioned our nation’s need to resuscitate the concept of Brother/Sisterhood in earlier posts, here is an article recently found on Salon.com, which had such a profound effect upon me as to sharpen my awareness of need to acknowledge movements that silently breathe life into Civil War strife to this very day:

7 things the United Daughters of the Confederacy might not want you to know about them


All too few know that this belief system remains alive and active throughout ‘the south’ ...

“That the UDC website as recently as August 2018 included this line: “Slaves, for the most part, were faithful and devoted. Most slaves were usually ready and willing to serve their masters.”

“That 700 monuments exalting people who fought for black chattel slavery still stand as well as statuary and monuments in the form of “loyal slave” markers— which perpetuate the image of content enslaved blacks and benevolent white enslavers.”

I’d no idea of the power that the UDC continues to wield in D.C.  ...

United Daughters of the Confederacy

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Jump to navigationJump to search
United Daughters of the Confederacy
United Daughters of the Confederacy logo.png
Official badge, depicting the "Stars and Bars", the first flag of the Confederacy
Headquarters of the United Daughters of the Confederacy.jpg
AbbreviationUDC
EstablishedSeptember 10, 1894; 125 years ago
Founders
Founded atNashville, Tennessee, U.S.
Type501(c)(3)charitable organization
54-0631483
HeadquartersRichmond, Virginia, U.S.
Coordinates37.5571518°N 77.4738453°W
Membership (2015)
19,000
Nelma Crutcher
PublicationUDC Magazine
SubsidiariesChildren of the Confederacy
Websitehqudc.org Edit this at Wikidata
Formerly called
National Association of the Daughters of the Confederacy
The United Daughters of the Confederacy (UDC) is an American hereditary association of Southern women established in 1894 in Nashville, Tennessee. It has been labeled neo-Confederate by the Southern Poverty Law Center, which monitors hate groups and extremists.[1] The stated purposes of the organization include the commemoration of Confederate States Army soldiers and the funding of the erection of memorials to these men. Many historians have described the organization's portrayal of the Confederate States of America (CSA), along with its promotion of the Lost Cause movement, as advocacy for white supremacy,[2][3][4][5][6][7] and have asserted that promotion of the Confederate tradition has been led by the UDC.[8] Until recent decades, the UDC was also involved in building monuments to commemorate the Ku Klux Klan.[7][9]
The group's headquarters are in the Memorial to the Women of the Confederacybuilding in Richmond, Virginia, the former CSA capital. In May 2020, this building was set on fire during the George Floyd protests.[10]
I’d no clue that—
“... the UDC tried to erect a monument in Washington, D.C., "in memory of the faithful slave mammies of the South.” The Senate signed off on it, but the idea never came to fruition.”

“... the UDC’s effort at placing a monument in Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, which plays fast and loose with the biography of Haywood “Heyward” Shepherd (the UDC didn’t even bother to get his first name right), a free black man whom an inscription depicts as a “faithful negro” who chose slavery over freedom, as all “the best” blacks did.”

I’d no clue that—
“... the UDC was given a place in Arlington National Cemetery for a Confederate monument that includes a weeping black “mammy” figure holding a white child and an enslaved black man marching alongside his enslaver into battle. The 1914 marker intentionally included the enslaved figure to propagate the idea that black people were willing, eager soldiers for the Confederacy — a suggestion that would mean the war couldn’t have been about slavery, which wasn’t so bad anyway. As historian Kevin Levin has documented at length, that lie has become a neo-Confederate talking pointin a long list of other neo-Confederate lies.”

I’d no clue that the UDC has 19,000 active members, today ...

My hope is to see our nation continue to reach toward a point in time when change for the better becomes so widespread that, though never forgotten, North and South are able to put the past to rest. 

Though today’s peaceful protests may not seem to cultivate huge leaps of faith during my lifetime, hopefully, great strides toward positive change will be seen over the lifetimes of my sons and grandchildren, and of this I am certain:  My sons’ friendships with classmates resembled The United Nations just as did my own during my formative years as I grew toward being a preteen on Chicago’s south side, in Hyde Park, where my attitudes concerning befriending others, wholeheartedly, had been experientially absorbed into every fiber of my being, naturally, every day of my young life.❤️

Thankfully, I believe our nation is beginning to demonstrate proactive change for the better taking place before our eyes as the makeup of peaceful protesters has transitioned toward the integral inclusion of people of every color, who, for the most part, are responsibly wearing masks while marching for freedom of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, which in countless ways, have been denied too many.  And now, during trump’s reign of terror, none, who refuse to bow to his moronic soullessness, feel safe  ...

Tomorrow, you’ll find the text that I received, several weeks back, from my son, David, during a time of social turbulence when chemo was distressing my body and blood supply with miseries that blurred my mental capacities from publishing that which I plan to post, next, concerning a text that David received from Bryce’s mother, Zetty, during recent protests (and riots) concerning my son’s heartfelt influence, over these past ten years, upon her beloved son, Bryce, who is now, half way through his  21st year ... and once you absorb  Zetty’s heartfelt out pouring, you’ll clearly see why I teared up ... Annie


PS
How many times do you think ‘heartfelt’ appeared in today’s post?

Saturday, July 25, 2020

STAY HEART-HEALTHY AND BREATHE EASY

Ever since landing in Houston, each day has been busier, by far, than expected.  Why?
I’d thought to see my doctors, have a Covid test, chest X-ray, labs and rest.
Much to our surprise, my doctors had additional plans in store for me.

My thoracic surgeon decided to schedule a study of my lungs to check out air intake and output, which I passed—thank goodness ...

My cardiac surgeon decided to schedule an appointment with a cardiologist followed by a heart catheterization, and along with the study of my lungs, getting each of these time consuming appointments scheduled within a two day window proved quite a feat.

The reason for the heart cath was twofold:
To see if an intricate network of vessels is feeding the tumor.
(An intricate network of vessels feeding the tumor was not seen.)
To check out my major vessels—all look good with one exception
The inferior pulmonary vein (leading into my heart’s right auricle from my right lung) is compromised by the tumor.  As this has shown to be true in past studies, additional reason for concern did not emerge—and thank goodness for that!

Yet another feat?  This medical campus (made up of several mega buildings connected by indoor walkways on several levels) covers six city blocks, which is why Will was seen holding a map while wheeling me from one set of elevators to another as we made our way through a labyrinth of walkways in hopes of getting from one appointment to the next (several of which were back to back) in a timely manner.

Thank goodness, David dropped us off, each morning, and picked us up, at the end of each day, because, as you can imagine, Will was too bushed to maneuver through construction zones on our way back to the air bnb—especially yesterday, as my first appointment was at 9:30 am, and I was not released from the recovery room following the heart catheterization, until 7pm.  Why was that?  Because the cardiologist, making certain that I’d not have a bleed at the site where the catheter had been inserted, decided to keep me in recovery for four hours rather than the usual three.

And as that, my friends, brings us up-to-date—please
Stay well
Stay masked
Stay heart-healthy—breathe easy by creating love-ins
And—Vote blue
πŸ™‹πŸ»‍♀️❤️🌈🌻Annie


Tuesday, July 21, 2020

WE ARRIVE IN HOUSTON AS PLANNED

We arrived in Houston, safe and sound
Both airports were close to empty
Few passengers on the plane
We wore hazmat suits
Face shields, masks and gloves
We were treated well
Surprisingly, everything went smoothly
Air bnb is comfortable
We’re all relieved to be here
Groceries delivered, as preplanned
Supplies sent by Barry and Steven arrived
Doctors’ appointments, throughout the week
Cardiac surgeon, thoracic surgeon and oncologist
Surgeries scheduled July 28 (heart) and July 29th (lung).

Have I mentioned that a heart transplant surgeon is scrubbing in just in case my heart needs to be removed (to get at the tumor) and replaced with itself—the miracles of modern medicine leave me awestruck especially when considering the brilliance of the human brain’s desire to heal whatever ails us  ...

🌈Stay safe. Be well🌻
Annie

PS
Photos, posted yesterday, can now be clearly seen.


Monday, July 20, 2020

HEALTH UPDATE #23

These past two days, ‘the calm before the surgery’ has not been easily maintained as tension tries to spike until the intuitive portion of my brain hears an Ativan calling my name—Annie, let’s work together at soothing your peaceful sense of self—and upon heeding the guidance of my intuitive voice, I follow my doctor’s advice—no need for martyrs, medicate as necessary ...

Thankfully, David’s strong heart is accompanying Will and me, because patients and caregivers have need of loving support.  Each time our son hugs us for real a wish comes true, being that we’ve been unable to embrace any of our sons for several months, as is likely true of you, too.  And as we’re a family of huggers, social distancing behind glass, month after month, has been smart but not easy.

As Will and I confront the landscape of today’s reality, we’re really glad that Steven, Celina and Ravi decided to have dinner on our patio, every evening, until our departure for the medical center in Houston.  And being that last night at 7pm, the thermometer registered 107 degrees, you can imagine the intensity of the heat while Steven’s family dined on take-out, which is why all three chose to cool down with brief dips in our spa.  Once Steven’s crew packs up to drive home, we FaceTime with Barry, Marie, Tony and Ray, as usual.

With so many unknowns cycling through my mind, inclusive of traveling in hazmat suits while Covid rages, on and on, I’ve learned to let each fear emerge so that having considered possibilities, my spirit can send them packing in favor of refocusing my mind on probabilities, being that my surgeons clearly stated that I’m a likely candidate for full recovery; otherwise, they’d not put me through a pair of back-to-back surgeries as serious as these prove to be.

And so with thoughts of this past year leading toward this week’s mega leap of faith, I hope you can feel my love wishing to hug all of you close, once successful surgery and the threat of Covid have passed (and since wishes come in threes, let’s imagine the jubilance felt by millions, round the world, once the menace cowering ‘neath the presidential desk in The Oval Office is sent packing, as well.

As this surgery is considered high risk, thank goodness a beautiful fairy enjoyed dinner with Celina and Steven on our patio, last night.  I mean, it’s mighty nice to have a good fairy in the family, especially during trying times.  After dinner, this luminous creature created magical swirls with rainbow-colored soaps all over the outside of our windowed Arcadia door, and when her transparent canvass was complete, she waved her magic wand and asked the powers that be to make her Gramma Annie better, so we can play, together, for hours and hours, forever and ever ...

And have I mentioned the magical powers inherent in glow in the dark rocks painted with love by Tony and Ray?  If a picture is worth a thousand words, then those below are sure to spotlight the magic of love that’s certain to buoy our spirits until we three arrive home, safe and sound after our stay in The Lone Star State.

Be well
Be masked
Vote blue
Feel my love
πŸ™‹πŸ»‍♀️❤️🌈🌻Annie






BRAINLESS

There’s no question as to who must be impeached, again, based upon this fact:  In order to lead our nation, every POTUS who remains in office is required to have a brain in his head.  And to trump’s misfortune (and ours), every brain cell he’s ever had has funneled into his ears, which hear nothing other than his own insanity spiraling through a vacuum, which explains why every time he opens his mouth, releasing lie after lie, his craziness is witnessed along with this fact:  Change for the better will remain beyond our reach as long as trump’s audacious lies fall upon the deaf ears of those in the senate who pull their red hats down to cover their eyes, which, if you ask me, is just as insane as waiting until January to unseat mental madness, which does naught but heighten our nation’s miseries, over these next several months, when tis true that anyone holding public office other than that of the presidency would have been declared an incompetent fraud so unfit to lead as to have been declared a threat to the well being of the public at large and therefore—discharged, committed or jailed.

If the consequence of impeachment is not invoked then trump remains free to wreak havoc upon the safe keeping of us all—which includes our children ...

Are we really allowing a mad man to send our children, who trust us to keep them safe, into schools where Covid is certain to attack as indiscriminately as would a cold hearted shooter holding a loaded gun?  Did trump really say—children are resilient—or was that his puppet, pence?  And what of our teachers, bringing Covid home to their spouses, children and aged parents?

If you agree that we cannot bow to trump’s insane decision to force our nation’s precious children and dedicated educators into harms way by threatening to withhold funds allocated for education then please voice your dissent along with mine ... because leaders who refuse to acknowledge national disasters of their own making are not mentally fit to remain in office, reminding us that “Desperate times call for desperate measures”, and the time to take desperate measures is before we self destruct ...

Saturday, July 18, 2020

PROACTIVE SUPPRESSION OF MULTIPLE TRAUMAS

So, as the countdown begins, here we be, closing in on a week away from evicting this unwelcome squatter, which had the unmitigated gall to take up residence in my lung without invitation from me!

One of my book clubs zoomed, last week.  Though serious reading has not felt possible, over these last several months, I’d rsvp’d yes, thinking to partake quietly, but then, feeling too fatigued for any social interaction, my decision reversed..

As this month’s selection, a memoir, KNOW MY NAME, concerns the author’s struggle to regain control over her personal life after rape was followed by feeling victimized all over again while listening to counsel for the defendant batter her reputation during her assailant’s trial, perhaps my thought processor chose to tire in order to disengage from the harsh nature of this month’s discussion.  I mean, how many personal traumas can one brain be expected to suppress while working toward refortifying my host of inner strengths in readiness to break with quarantine in order to fly to Houston—a city within which C-19 is spiking—to undergo cardio-thoracic surgery, which is now officially scheduled ... And with need to quarantine while the reality of undergoing a seriously scary surgery draws near, I’m sure you’ll agree that reading or discussing anything that would most certainly weigh heavy on my mind seems utterly unproductive when my spirit is most in need of injecting my think tank with lightness of being.
πŸ‘©πŸ»Annie

PS
You’d think that those who care more about the economy than about people’s lives would wear masks so as to hasten our nation’s recovery from Covid, which, in turn, would hasten the economy’s recovery, as well.  But that kind of thinking requires foresight on the part of those who can’t see beyond their own noses ...

PSS
Once lab results indicated my platelets plummeting, again, following my last infusion of chemo, my oncologist’s decision to cancel my LAST two infusions of chemo saw me feeling deeply relieved and very grateful for this reprieve, being that my blood supply has had sufficient time to regain and maintain its strength during these weeks preceding surgery.

No more chemo!  Whew!  Though I’ve said it before, here it comes, again—What a load off my mind.  With so many moving parts being integral to my ultimate recovery, I need to relieve my mind of as many worries as possible—which, during this pandemic, is no easy feat no matter how often I focus upon my good fortune In hopes of maintaining peace of mind—one day at a time.

It’s no exaggeration to say that Will is often seen texting, emailing or pacing while on the phone throughout the day, making sure that both medical teams in separate states are up to snuff on whatever is currently taking place concerning every moving piece that makes a traveling chess board of my medical charts at Mayo, MD Anderson and Houston Methodist Hospital.  I mean, you’d be astonished at the lack of communication we’ve experienced amongst five doctors’ offices, all of which have access to the same online system that gathers a patient’s medical information in one place so as to be shared by certain doctors’ offices and hospitals.  As suggested to us by one doctor’s PA, our experience, concerning lack of communications amongst separate medical campuses is not unusual.  In fact, some patients have become so frustrated as to have moved, temporarily, to Houston during the months leading up to surgery.

Had Will not been a physician, accustomed to calling doctors to offer or receive information, I can’t even begin to imagine the heights of frustration that would have spiked.  And, in addition to texts, emails and calls to five medical offices and medical records, I’ve not yet mentioned all of the texts and calls to and from family and friends, who remain in touch weekly, bi-weekly, or daily.  Though I look forward to answering texts and emails sent by loved ones, the idea of hearing my voice discussing cancer, repeatedly, is a downer, for sure.

As to my spirit, it writes messages and posts, daily, while my body, though still short of breath, moves without aid of the walker, which prevented falls that, thankfully, have not happened.  And now that chemo is several weeks behind me, I’ve strengthened so as to feel less bed bound, which sees me more grateful than I can say being that we fly to Houston in three days time.

If I didn’t have a benadryl hangover, this morning (of all times for allergies to torment my nose and eyes) I’d probably include a determined emoji, right here.  Thank goodness, the rest of this week holds no infusions, transfusions, appointments, labs, studies or tests, all of which were administered over these last three weeks with the exception of whatever awaits in Houston, pre-op.  Thank goodness, today is a blessed morning in which to rest before readying myself to pack, before Steven and Ravi arrive for their patio dinner at 7pm.
πŸ™‹πŸ»‍♀️❤️Annie

Friday, July 17, 2020

A TIME TO PLUG INTO MEGAWATT PERSONAL POWERS

Please hear me out until you can clearly see where today’s intuitive train of thought is heading after I back up to last Saturday when our eldest son, Barry, drove home to his family in CA.  It was more than wonderful to breathe in Barry’s wealth of positive energy, which, since infancy, has been his natural calling card, creativity smiling forth from deep within a pair of hazel eyes, which convey the quick wit of his sparkling intelligence as soon as his presence announces the arrival of a force of nature with whom others sense reason to be attentive as soon as he enters a room ... and though this summation describes Barry’s spirit to a tee, I’ve never clarified my personal perception of any of my sons’ personal strengths with such a precise choice of words until our most recent visit with Barry came to mind, today, suggestive of intuitive thought sharpening my awareness of character traits that each of our offspring brings to the family table no matter what lies directly ahead ... and though tis early in the morn to have penetrated into the very depths of my mind where clarity abounds unencumbered by swells of emotion held firmly in check over this last year’s time, I feel that the same description of Barry’s strong spirited intelligence holds true of the positively focused, self-empowered presence of each of the men whom our trio of sons has grown to be, most especially whenever Barry, Steven or David extends his arms to enwrap me within a loving embrace, made up of each one’s host of personal strengths ... and each time I remind myself to absorb the personal strengths of my husband and our trio of sons, I find my vulnerabilities feeling so well protected as to be able to refortify my spirit, upon awakening to each new day.

And just as I treasure my immediate family the same holds true of my extended family and dearest friends, both near and far, all of whom inspire my spirit to greet the immediate future plugged into the powerful megawatt infusion of love to which I am blessed to awaken, every day ... and suddenly, I feel need to turn the spotlight away from our strengths and vulnerabilities in favor of switching tracks so as to free my intuitive voice to say—Please—Stay safe.  Stay well.  Stay positive.  Stay masked ... and come November, let’s vote for political ‘firefighters’ who place a high value upon freedom, equality and sanity, because rather than draining the swamp, trump set out to ignite a wildfire, burning our nation’s connection to brotherhood and good health to a crisp, and that insanity will not change for the better as long as a fire breathing dragon remains at the helm, driving the fire truck, filled with self serving cronies, away from every wildfire that he sets, himself ... and just as this hardhearted pyromaniac places children in cages, he cares not about setting our children ablaze once torches of Covid, running unmasked through our streets, invade our schools, stimulating my sense of outrage to skyrocket concerning how many innocent youngsters may succumb to this deadly illness before well educated men and women turn the hose of justice upon this evil scumbag, who, remaining unmasked, is tested for Covid, every day, as are all who come in contact with this liar extraordinaire who, knowing full well the dangers of going about unmasked, deceives his flock of sheep into believing that this virus is a hoax and that thanks to his leadership, every aspect of our great nation, which is crumbling before our eyes, is under control and doing swell ... dear God—how many millions of red hatters, who choose to believe in trump’s swill, will go to the polls unmasked compared to those who, protecting others by wearing face shields, will vote blue, thus ensuring that our nation does not self destruct within The Red Sea of biblical times, over these next four years ...

AnnieπŸ‘©πŸ»

Thursday, July 16, 2020

COLOR ME BLUE—UNLESS ...

Having basked in the warmth of Barry’s smile, which clearly conveyed our son’s love, his eyes shining with emotion (as did mine), now that our patio visits have passed, my spirit feels kind of blue although at least six or seven morsels of good news await conveying to you—

First of all, David drives in, today, to shelter with us until we three fly to Houston on July 21st.  Shelly and Jerry (she attended grammar school and high school with Will) are bringing the veggie pate that Shelly whips up, which I love.  Andi and Mike just dropped off milk, pumpkin bread and several boxes of Raisonets—their gifts of love.  Our neighbor, Adrienne, is grilling salmon for dinner.  Loving texts and emails continue to fill my in boxes—Lauren’s and Susan’s arrive more than once daily, and Debbie’s poetry injects my spirit with her positive energy.  My main credit card company finally deleted over $3,000 worth of fraudulent charges from 2018, which had not been mine, after Steven threatened to sue.  And rather than sending Ravi to school with no safety precautions set in place concerning the pandemic, Steven placed a notice in the neighborhood news letter requesting parents to contact him if they’d like their kindergarteners to join a small group led by a teacher they’d hire to guide their youngsters through the district’s online learning program (the option Steven has chosen for Ravi), and so far, he’s received six replies from parents interested in discussing this possibility with him, so that sounds as promising as the fact that two kindergarten teachers have already answered his ad ... and saving best for last are moments filled with laughter while FaceTiming with Ravi or Tony and Ray, and once surgery has passed, my eagerness to expand patio play dates enjoyed with Steven, Celina and Ravi will include Barry, Marie, Tony, Ray and David, who will drive across the desert so as to enjoy heartfelt moments of love, which always prove entertaining to one and all, big and small, just because that’s our way ...

Much less entertaining were two hours spent filling in forms and questionnaires for Mayo, though much to my relief, that task is complete.  Now Will needs my help with something online, after which I plan to be a responsible voter by consulting with Google concerning those who hope to be candidates for public office as our mail-in ballots for primary elections, held in August, arrived and await my attention.  And with so much to organize for our trip to Houston while C-19, flaring throughout Texas, continues to extinguish the good health of men and women in the prime of their lives, our need for thoroughness concerning safety precautions and gathering supplies (in case of lockdown and hoarding) feels overwhelming until I remind myself to breathe deep and take one day at a time.

Time for another up note, right?  Steven, Celina and Ravi are planning a patio visit, at sunset, this evening, and I have received a motorized paddle boat, ordered from Amazon which includes a family of four, in hopes of delighting my sweet grandchild when Ravi slips into our spa to cool down.

Once they take their leave, my focus will turn toward David’s presence and his Covid test, which, being negative, freed our youngest son to pack up and drive from CA to shelter with us until we three board the plane for Houston garbed in hazmat suits, face shields and gloves, suggesting that though I’ve colored myself blue, perhaps what I’m actually feeling, upon awakening each morning, is need to suppress a freight train that’s barreling down the tracks of my mind heading straight toward Houston, packed so tightly with coiled emotions, as to make me feel—subconsciously overwhelmed ... and, now with that insight shining its spotlight upon how hard my mind/spirit connection has been working to calm emotions, which are subconsciously aswirl, NOT so deep inside—how do I end today’s post in a spiritually uplifting manner?  Well, give me a moment to clear my head of today’s freight ‘train of thought’, and I’ll bet something of a positive nature will pop out of my mind—Ahh! All I need do is to come full circle so as to concentrate my focus to reflect upon—

Barry’s most recent visit.  David’s arrival to shelter with us until we three fly to Houston.  Love tokens from treasured family and friends who long for patio visits once my energy rebounds, veggie pate whipped up, which I love.  The appearance at our front door of milk, pumpkin bread and Raisonets as tokens of love.  Salmon, steak or chicken being grilled or baked for dinner.  Homemade cookies, a knitted hat, brisket, pears, fairytale brownies, popcorn, taffy apples, bathroom tissue, bluebirds of happiness, an autographed heart, a mustard seed, books, hand cream a miniature bright red dress, poetry, cards and phone calls galore.  FaceTiming with our kids, big and small.  Loving texts and emails filling my in-boxes—Lauren’s and Susan’s texts arriving more than once daily, and Debbie’s poetry injecting my spirit with bursts of positive energy.  My main credit card company finally deleting over $3,000 worth of charges that had not been mine from 2018 after Steven threatened to sue.  And rather than sending Ravi to school with no safety precautions set in place concerning the pandemic, Steven’s notice, placed in the neighborhood news letter, received six replies from parents interested in hiring a teacher to lead a small group of kindergarteners toward following the district’s online learning program, so that sounds promising ... and Ravi and I enjoyed a lengthy FaceTime conversation, this morning, that proved most entertaining, as did our FaceTiming, last night with Barry, Marie, Tony and Ray.  This evening, David, Will and I will enjoy our patio visit with Steven, Celina and Ravi—and in addition to all of that (and so much more) for which I feel deeply grateful, I’ll contemplate my good fortune once successful surgery, Covid under control and the end of trump’s reign of terror have all been filed in the past amid every other deeply trying moment in history.

Ahhh—mission accomplished—a subconscious load of emotional pressure based in subconscious conflict weighing heavy against my chest has revealed itself to me.  So what time is it?  Not time to be a martyr but rather time to down an Ativan, prescribed specifically to relieve my mind of prolonging moments fraught with coiled tension in need of relaxation, just like this one proves to be ...
Annie πŸ™‹πŸ»‍♀️🌈🌻


Sent from my iPad

Wednesday, July 15, 2020

4 BARRY’S VISIT—A CONSCIOUS RELEASE OF EMOTIONAL DEPTHS

Barry, Will and I enjoyed a deeply impactful time, all around, in that our love and admiration for one another was expressed, conversationally, so naturally that though tears and laughter intermingled, intermittently, our connection to clarity was absorbed by all three.  Not once was said—I can’t find words to express what I feel.

During out love-in, Barry made it clear that we were not saying goodbye; however, I know that possibility had crossed each of our minds.  In fact, once Barry was headed back to CA, I believe an Ativan saved me from experiencing a full blown melt down by way of releasing emotion in a slo-mo manner.  At any rate, we three treasured our time, together, Wed.-Sat., and after our heartfelt leave-taking, separated by glass, I found my bed, closed my eyes and napped most of the day away aided by that Ativan, which lightened my mood from wandering into the dark side, lurking deep inside my mind ...

Though we were all bummed that Steven and Ravi could not see Barry, being that Steven is the safest person to drive us to the airport in less than a week’s time, so he is quarantining very seriously, and coupled with that fact is the reality that Barry never knows what may be brought home when Tony and Ray return from their Dad’s house, where no precautionary measures concerning Covid are taken, whatsoever, suggesting  sound reason for all of us taking every safety measure into consideration during the brevity of our eldest son’s visit.

As for David, he’s not left his apartment in LA for these past nine days, and now that he’s tested negative for Covid, our youngest son is readying himself to drive here on Thursday to help us organize everything that needs packing for a month of quarantining in Texas, and along with his loving presence, his help will be deeply appreciated, being that my head swims with thoughts of everything we three will need to have on hand in case hoarding becomes an issue in Houston, where lock down, based in Covid spiking, may be mandated at any time.  Whew!

And taking our need to quarantine in Texas, seriously, Barry and Steven continue to brainstorm via FaceTime as they plan to order and overnight a box of supplies (inclusive of the new gold standard—toilet paper).  When our sons were boys, I consciously guided each one to set a high value on thoroughness, and during this trying time, their absorption of that concept frees my mind to float on trust, which has layered up amongst us, over all these years.

Tonight, Will and I will enjoy Adrienne’s generosity, yet again, as our dear friend assumes the role of Good Food Fairy, which sees her husband’s appreciation of grilled skirt steaks matching our own. As for now, I’ll see what Will’s been up to while I’ve been reading, writing and napping the day away—
Annie🌈🌻

Sunday, July 12, 2020

3 AFTER SEVERAL FAMILY DISCUSSIONS, A PLAN HAS COME TOGETHER

Sooo—how do Will and I feel about staying with David in an air bnb during our first week in Houston before Will moves into the hotel during my hospitalization?  We are totally on board.  And here is why that’s true—It means so much to my sense of inner peace to know that our family has developed the ability to resolve conflicts bound to arise during long lasting crises (compounded by world crises) as we maintain a balanced awareness of our respect for each other’s intelligence, emotional reactions, flexibility of thought, and most of all, the depths of our love for one another, all of which combined has carried us through trying times over each of our lifetimes.

While raising our family, Will and I devoted every day toward modeling and maintaining a heightened sense of family values, which includes conversing respectfully, most especially during times of on-going strife (and I wonder how many families are conscious of taming tempers when fear, frustration or anger arises). And now, tis time to get off my soapbox so as to rest my mind, which, feeling relieved of conflict, has readied itself to relax, hopefully for the rest of today, knowing that we five are moving forward, abreast, toward whatever unknown the immediate future holds in store for us, one and all.

God!  Am I glad that David’s best friend, Adam, turned us onto Mayo just as these past seven months of roller coaster riding picked up steam once the sarcoma was correctly diagnosed following a year of appointments in doctors’ offices, where not one had thought out of the box so as to follow up my main symptom of chest pain on the right side with a simple chest X-ray—talk about need to defuse frustration with human imperfection in favor of verbally expressing our dismay concerning lack of thoroughness to my internist once her return from months of extended maternity leave freed Will’s mind and mine to move forward calmly and proactively as we had programmed ourselves to follow the same guidelines, which had been set in place for our sons concerning focusing the wide angled lens of our thought processors upon need to take one step at a time toward our hopes for a successful surgery, which, having been scheduled, now points our flashlight of insight toward spotlighting the strengths of our family’s united front as, together, we approach the end of this tunnel, which would have been a very dark and scary place had I felt need to wander through this last year on my own.

Whenever I have reason to take mental stock of the man I married, 54 years ago, I give thanks for Will, who, along with me, nurtured three little boys to grow up to be this trio of men, upon whose host of inner strengths we’ve come to depend at times when their emotional support buoys our spirits, which otherwise might falter from the strain of reining in emotions of overwhelming proportions.  And thus does my heart overflow with a peaceful sense of gratitude for the circle of love that flows so naturally amongst us through thick and thin.

And now that my present state of mind is in need of a rest, I’ll end today’s soliloquy by saying that no sooner did David float his revised plan past Will, Barry, Steven and me, we four agreed that staying in an air bnb until the day of my surgery seemed like a no brainer, so that, once again, open minded flexibility, which has been an integral part of our family’s decision-making process, proves that brainstorming, respectfully,  paves our way toward conflict resolution once everyone’s comfort level has been seriously taken into account.

BTW, David is most familiar with air bnb’s being that for about two years, he’d rented his place out, from time to time, suggesting he knows what it takes to receive a five star rating.  And as our start date begins three days before we fly into Houston, hopefully, David’s thoroughness in brainstorming with his brothers, offers us a place to quarantine safely, together, during the week leading up to my surgery.  As to food, that delivery has also been preplanned.

And now, knowing that our travel plan, which has been shaping up over these last few days, has considered everyone’s thoughts, ideas and peace of mind, I’ll quiet my mind and think about pretty much nothing for the remainder of today.  (Wish me luck with thatπŸ™ƒ).

Hoping your day is going well—
Over and out for awhile.
πŸ™‹πŸ»‍♀️🌈🌻😷Annie

Saturday, July 11, 2020

2 HOPEFULLY, OUR FAMILY’S PLAN FOR TRAVELING SAFELY WILL MINIMIZE RISK FACTORS

Since we’ll be in Houston for at least a month, planning the logistics of how best to travel and where to stay during the pandemic has seen our family airing differing opinions (concerning minimizing risk factors) via FaceTime and Zoom—thank goodness, I was serious about having family meetings (in which we all took turns leading with talking stick in hand) when our three sons were kids.  Upon reflection, I’d had no clue, during those meetings in which conflicts were aired calmly, discussed respectfully and resolved peaceably, that we were rehearsing for how best to resolve conflicts bound to arise once our sons developed into open minded, clear thinking adults.

Our plan for traveling to Houston and back (garbed in hazmat suits, no less) is set and will be explained in a future post.

As we find ourselves contending with the impact of C-19 on three medical campuses (Mayo here, MD Anderson and Houston Methodist in Texas), we face more complications than I can explain without taxing my brain, so thank goodness, Will, Barry, Steven and David have been brainstorming, via FaceTime, ever since the date of my surgery was set.  As for me, I listen, quietly, piping up only when a thought pops into my head that’s not yet been aired and discussed.  In this way, I’ve minimized anxiety from rising so as to maintain my sense of peacefulness until surgery has passed.

Here’s the plan that came together, following several family discussions, concerning our stay in Houston:  During the first week, Will, David and I will stay in an Air bnb near both medical campuses, where I’ll see doctors and undergo additional pre-op tests.  Once I’m admitted to Houston Methodist, Will plans to stay at the hotel that’s adjacent to the hospital until I’m released.  We’ve stayed there twice before, and that’s where Will wants to be—as close to me as possible.  Though we know that Will can be in the hospital on the day of my surgery, we’ll not know whether he can visit me after day one, because protocol continues to change, back and forth, depending upon whether C-19 is spiking or not ... the fact that so many people refuse to wear masks just doesn’t make sense!  Interesting that trump, who refuses to be masked is surrounded by those who are tested for C-19 every day, as is he while his lordship tells everyone not to worry over this highly contagious disease spreading from home to home across our nation like wildfire

Once I’m released from the hospital, about ten days following surgery, Will and I will stay at the hotel or if the air bnb seems safer (because of the pandemic) then we’ll join David, again, who (along with his brothers) believes the air bnb poses less of a health risk than the hotel.  Several family discussions ensued on FaceTime until a compromise addressed the plan outlined above, which may seem strange to anyone who was not privy to our detailed conversations.  At any rate, everyone felt heard as opinions, concerning C-19 and safety, were calmly expressed and respectfully discussed.  (Again—thank goodness, family meetings were taken seriously while the boys grew to be men.)

Be safe, dear friends, wherever you may be, by taking the Covid crises so seriously as to mask up and protect your eyes—a wide selection of inexpensive, protective glasses, found on Amazon, can be delivered, overnight  ...

Every day, we all confront the fact that life on planet Earth continues to become more bizarre than anyone can believe.  Fortunately, most people can be masked more comfortably than is true of me, based in the fact that I was advised to wear a surgical mask, because chemo left my blood in such a weakened condition as to undermine my immune system, which suggests why I require as much protection as possible from ANY contagious bacterial or viral infection.

Seriously, all we need do to defeat this deadly virus is to distance socially while wearing masks and eye protection in public places until the virus cannot feed on us as hosts—unfortunately, having trump, whose commentary proves on a daily basis to be mentally deranged, as commander and chief of our nation sure doesn’t help to resolve long-standing conundrums, which, during decades of complacency, have become overwhelming in nature, over these past three years.

November can’t get here fast enough for me—hopefully, I’ll be on my way toward healing and trump will be sent packing ...
πŸ™‹πŸ»‍♀️🌈🌻Annie

Friday, July 10, 2020

1 WHERE TO STAY IN HOUSTON AS SAFETY REMAINS OF PRIMARY CONCERN WHILE C-19 RAGES ON

About two weeks ago, our family brainstormed more than once on ZOOM

My sister, Lauren and her husband, Mark, participated as well.  Why?  Well, whenever decisions must be made, during life’s crises, Our family minimizes confusion and maximizes peace of mind by brainstorming, together, so as to hear everyone out, after which, I listen to what my gut has to say once my power of intuition has had time to holds hands with my heart and common sense.  It should come as no surprise that my gut tightens each time anything unfamiliar is added into the mix of unknowns that await our arrival in Houston.

I found it really helpful to hear Lauren say that she perceived of the hotel, where Will wants to stay, as being less of a risk than Barry, Steven and David believe, because whenever I consider staying in an Air bnb, my gut agrees with Will’s opinion, which considers the hotel to be the better choice as it’s adjacent to my doctors’ offices and the hospital, as well.  And the last thing he and I need to confront during this trying time is a heightened sense of emotional conflict as thoughts of the nearness of this surgery arouses anxiety, which then exacerbates confusion concerning our decision-making process.

My sister’s opinion proved helpful, because, sixteen years ago, she’d had reason to stay at the hotel in question, as did Will and I, when Mark, having suffered a heart attack in Mexico, was air lifted to Houston Methodist Hospital.  So Lauren, along with Will and I, knew the layout of the hotel.  Though I’m tempted to offer you a detailed explanation as to why Will and I do not consider this particular hotel to be as risky, during the pandemic, as other hotels may be (most people who stay there are in our situation), it may be best to restrain that temptation in the interest of moving forward ...

That night, after zooming with our family, I slept soundly, aided by an ambien (feeling grateful that the lesser dosage works its magic on me).

The next morning, I had labs, at Mayo.  Then Will and I came home only to rush back there that same afternoon resultant of my being in need of a platelet transfusion, which led to the cancellation of my last two infusions of chemo, offering my body four weeks to restrengthen before flying to Houston on July 21st for appointments with surgeons and additional studies followed by Covid testing, quarantining and dual surgeries (heart and lung), scheduled on July 28th.

This week, Barry drove in from the coast for several days, so that we could enjoy patio visits with our eldest son before I undergo the serious nature of these surgeries, which now prove two and a half weeks away.  Next week, following Covid testing, David drives in from LA several days before he, Will and I fly in hazmat suits, face shields and masks to Houston.

Before landing in Houston, I’ve had to under go a series of pre-op tests at Mayo, which included—a 3D Cardiac MRI, a pulmonary function study, an echocardiogram/drug induced stress test (since running on a treadmill with my walker was was out of the question) and a full body PET scan, all of which kept me busier than I’ve been for close to a year—and as we’ve moved beyond these last seven months of grueling hard work, which saw chemo dedicated to deactivating the sarcoma that’s been attacking my lung, a gynormous leap of faith awaits our arrival in The Lone Star State where Covid is raging based in the fact that states with Republican governors, following trump’s ‘lying non-existent guidelines’ opened up before there was any reason to end lockdown (just as is true of the southwestern state in which Will and I have chosen to raise our family, over these past 46 years).

On the upside, I passed every test with flying colors, and no one was more relieved then me upon hearing that my last two infusions of chemo were cancelled so as to offer my blood sufficient time to restrengthen before surgery, and over these past two weeks, lab results are looking good.
😷Annie

PS
Good news!
With so many moving pieces, I can’t remember if my relief has ever been expressed to you concerning the fact that Steven’s covid test was negative, and his fourteen day quarantine (beginning when he’d stopped by his office, masked and gloved, to pick up the mail and later learned he’d been exposed to C-19) has passed.  Needless to say, our son’s brief exposure to the virus refortified his personal decision to continue to quarantine so seriously as to wear masks, gloves and glasses whenever necessity demands his leaving the house, which proves rare being that Steven’s lungs have been compromised by asthma since he was an active tyke on a trike.

Though Steven continues to practice law from home, other lawyers with whom he shares office space and a receptionist (the person who is presently recovering from Covid) had been seeing clients in their offices, unmasked until the virus hit so close to home as to stimulate Steven to mandate masks be worn by everyone who steps into the office—thank goodness for that!

Steven’s present dilemma concerns Ravi’s fall semester of kindergarten as our Governor, Superintendent of public schools and board of education cannot get their acts together concerning how best to mandate precautionary measures in hopes of safe guarding youngsters from Covid when school starts in August ...

Don’t even get me started on how I feel about the fire breathing dragon who keeps setting fires throughout The White House ...

Just as ‘Never a dull moment’ has never been so prevalent within our family’s lifetime as has proved true 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 do the same, because, during trump’s reign of terror, leadership, at every level, has literally been insane.

As I always plan to end on an up note, I’m glad to say that the results of last week’s PET scan shows the tumor as having decreased in size,  again.  When first diagnosed, the sarcoma was approximately 7cm by 7cm.  Now it’s a bit more than 4cm by 4 cm.  And  with that said, here’s Will trying his hazmat suit on for size.  He and David and I are taking every precaution to catch nothing at the airport in hopes of safeguarding me as surgery lies directly ahead ...

I hope you, too, are taking every precautionary measure to be safe and stay well ... Ohhmmm