INSIGHTS ADDED TO: GOD SAVE US (GSU) FROM DERANGED MINDS EXACERBATING TRYING TIMES

Upon reviewing the post, titled above, insights as hot as popcorn popping kept leaping out of my think tank too fast to put a lid on my need to share each of these missiles with you, so rather than suggesting we thumb back, let’s move forward, together from here with my guarantee that your review of this train of thought will be worthy of time invested in considering why my soapbox slid out from under my desk on its own.  So, get ready!  Get set!  Buckle up for quite a ride!  Here we go!

No clue if this is true but just in case—if you see an empty bottle in your yard don’t pick it up as it may be a Drano bomb, which upon being moved explodes.

As if overcoming global crises is not enough, deranged brains purposely persist in criminal activities making trying times worse—Geez!

Thank goodness, most of our brains are connected to each other’s hearts so as to freely extend helpful hands thus expanding compassion’s circle of brotherhood, which, decade by decade, grows less exclusively isolationist, more objectively inclusive on a global scope.

Thank goodness for any degree of attitudinal change, which, proving heartfelt, no longer gives lip service to brotherhood when a miscarriage of justice, crossing your path or mine, requires our taking a united proactive stance.

And now, soap box placed under desk in readiness for next time lid pops off inside my head, releasing repressed voice of frustration secreted from the conscious portion of my mind until a subconscious reaction, having been prodded and poked one time too many, feels so provoked as to feel compelling need to express the depths of my angst clearly to me by stimulating my intuition to pen and publish a post such as this one proves to be.

One last thought for today—beware deranged brains that suggest combatting C-19 by ingesting poisonous substances bound to seriously sicken if not kill its hosts ... GSU from POTUS, who has no mindsets to speak of, because each time his mouth opens, our intelligence is reminded of what mindlessness sounds like!

Okay!  Check your seat belt, because here’s where soap box pushes up against my belief that the train of thought, above, was complete.

GHU (God help us) to get out the vote in November so as to paint the electoral system so overwhelmingly blue as to sweep away any worries of red hats re-electing this dooms day machine before our nation reaches the point of no return where sanity, compassion and mindful leadership, having been so thoroughly thrashed, trashed and trumped that we need to create a new exhibit within the hallowed halls of The Smithsonian where a memorial will be erected commemorating times past where deep thinking Americans will go to ruminate over inner need to recapture a time when our founding fathers had wholly concentrated their energy upon creating a document ensuring the on-going well-being of our nation’s Caucasian men—inclusion, concerning rights of minorities, women and children to follow—offering the minds of younger generations something worthwhile to do with OUR minds during OUR lifetimes—geez—that flash of deeper truth blasting out from the intuitive portion of my processor just plopped red hats on the well-meaning heads of our forefathers, who wrote The Constitution of The United States of America to the best of their limited scope more than 245 years ago—give or take a couple of weeks.

Seriously folks—sounds like we’d all be wise to take a deeper look inside our heads to see how much red hattedness may remain repressed behind our defense systems’ self protective walls of denial, kept so well hidden from the conscious portion of our brains as to blind us to how often pots call whistling kettles black as soon as emotional heat, turned up to high, releases pent up anger, concerning Yesteryear’s injustice, which boils over on both burners while innocent little faces of every hue, tugging at our heartstrings, look up and ask—what’s everyone fighting about?  Why can’t we all justjust start over and be friends?  So, bending on knee, we teach our little ones to ‘like’ Henry Patrick, who’d stated clearly and courageously way back in 1775–whoa! Did I just write ‘way back’ right after our annual Seder was meant to remind me of biblical times when ‘one people’ claiming dominance over another, faced a series of plagues so as to convince the masters to let the people, led by Moses, go free, and in fear for their lives, that’s what the task masters did—until, having changed their minds, the oppressors reacted in such a vile way as to have been swallowed up by the Red Sea.  Reminding us that ‘right over might wins out, eventually—which is why patience with leadership rising from ashes, like the The Phoenix, relieves the critical moment of crises within every true story.

How many times does the story of Exodus in search of the promised land (in contemporary times that distinction points directly to the lady in the harbor, whose shining light guides the poor, oppressed and weary to seek asylum in a nation that professes to welcome all who seek any kind of employment that will provide a better life for their children by way of freedom and education) need to be recited aloud before the human spirit’s eternal quest for liberty, equality and fraternity sinks into the brains of families as well as into every governing body on a global scope?  Whoops!  Did I mention readiness anywhere within today’s tirade?

Each nation is moving forward at its own pace.  And yes.  That intuitive estimation includes the Middle East.  So today’s and tomorrow’s gurus have lots to teach future generations of children how to develop into adults, who, having been raised in families in which the man of the house no longer has need to see himself as master in order to feel virility’s masculinity thriving deeply throughout every intelligent crevice of his mind—though reality suggests that the monumental nature of that global change, concerning millions of years of human development doth not happen, over night, though strides toward equality concerning nationality, gender, religious belief and race have been happening in incremental steps as seen on the historical time line.  And since we agree that repetition is not redundant when retention is the goal at hand then ...

It’s time to return to kindergarten.  Sit in feeling circles.  And start over, holding hands.  Because the human spirit’s most basic, instinctual need to feel free to be you and me NEVER ENDS.  Why not?  Because, folks—simply put, that’s how the human spirit always works.  Let freedom ring for one and all is its everlasting ‘thing’.

So when it comes to leadership
Here’s your choice and mine—which (like
taxes and death), never changes:
‘Get with the program that best fits
The human spirit on a timeless, universal basis or
Start another war by blindly and selfishly
Striving toward depriving your sisters and brothers of
Their God given right to freely pursue
Happiness and prosperity based in the acquisition of
Knowledge and hard work to succeed on their own—but
Don’t take my word for today’s post tapping into
A chilling deeper truth—instead, take
One quick glance back, over
The historical time line, thus providing
Your thought processor with unequivocal proof of
My thought processor having hit the bullseye, today

You see, I figure it this way
If deeper truth actually exists within us all then
I’d rather be a deep thinker, who feels compelled to
Write until another truth reveals itself to
My conscientious awareness before
The day dawns when intuition would offer me
Need to sit down to take a chilling look in
The mirror, which would leave my self image
Feeling utterly shocked and deflated to see that
I’d grown to be as brainwashed as is an adult
Wearing a red hat, stuffed with
Subconscious attitudes of fake superiority, which had
Somehow been plopped into my think tank somewhere
Along the long winding path that I’d followed
Eye wide shut—until just now, when
Deeper truth leaped out so clearly as if to say—
Awaken to reality, Rip Van Winkle; open your eyes, drink
Coffee not Kool Aid and get with program that
Makes sound use of heartfelt common sense, at long last!

Form a circle
Hold hands
Release tension
Smile with genuine sense of relief and
Repeat this heartfelt pledge (ala Patrick Henry) after me
Long live the good health of your human spirit and mine!
Vive La liberte!
Liberty!  Equality!  Fraternity!
Amen!
(No variation of Sieg Heil! to be proclaimed, seen or heard within
Homes occupied by parents and kids throughout the world!)
Too Pollyanna for you?  Listen up!
How many times has history demanded that deep thinkers
Stop pointing fingers at one another?
Form a circle
Hold hands
Release tension
Smile with genuine sense of relief and
Repeat this heartfelt pledge (ala Patrick Henry) after me
Long live the good health of your human spirit and mine!
Vive La liberte!
Liberty!  Equality!  Fraternity! until we’ve successfully
Switched subconscious attitudes from vindicating yesterday’s
Vile transgressions in favor of making sound use of
Intelligence so as to readily seek solutions to TODAY’S problems
Amen!

Whew! Soap box placed under desk.
Brain needs a rest.
🙋🏻‍♀️Annie

10 THE ESSENTIAL PRESENCE OF THE HUMAN SPIRIT’S SPARKLING EFFERVESCENCE

Steven just sent me
Two videos of Ravi, who, being
A naturally unselfconscious child of
Five, harbors little awareness of
Growing as beautiful as
A magical water sprite as time flies by

And though Ravi and Gramma enjoy play dates
Via cyberspace, several times weekly
The vibrancy of our energy exchange—which
Under normal circumstances is
Naturally palpably conducted from
Within the depths of one of us throughout
The depths of the other—is deeply missed as
I watch the essential vivacity of
My grand daughter’s sprite-like spirit (by way of
A screen) developing her ability to dance, leap and
Skip through this five year old stage of
Her young life as much as
My eyes miss connecting
Ever so naturally with
My son, Steven’s eyes as
We smile lovingly at
His daughter’s age appropriate antics, which
In this day and age are caught on
Camera much more often than not
In fact, there’s so much missed about
Our well balanced, daily lives, which
We’d all enjoyed but
Had taken for granted, that
It seems as if need to quarantine, over
An extensive time—no end in sight—
May offer each of us reason to become
Ever more consciously aware of
The immeasurable depths of
Our love for family and friends as
Weeks turn into—months, and
When I ask myself how deeply is
Our west coast crew missed by
Desert dwellers—Well—missing
Each of our loved ones deeply is
A given being that this much time
Has never gone by without
Their flying here or we there, being that
A heartfelt sense of togetherness is ‘Our Thing’

Thank goodness, we received good—wait—
Make that really GREAT news, recently
Concerning the fact that my PET CT shows
My current protocol of chemo battling
The active nature of the sarcoma that
Invaded my right lung, uninvited, because
If the PET scan had offered up
The opposite result, suggesting
This protocol of chemo doing little to
Deactivate this sarcoma (as is sadly true for
75% of patients whose fervent hopes to
Experience my result prove to be dashed) then
The well balanced state of
My peace of mind, which
Buoys my spirit through
Trying times, would surely need
A safety net installed beneath
The courage I must muster each time
An intuitive flash of reality rides out of
The depths of my mind during each
Insight-driven moment as
This one proves to be ...
I mean, while everyone around
The world is quarantining, it’s easy to
Forget why I have need of chemo, at all!
The fact of the matter is this:
As long as the C-19 virus doesn’t catch up with me
I, conveniently forgetting excessive fatigue, mistakenly
Think of myself as being as healthy as can be

Sooo—here’s the thing—now that the novelty of quarantining has worn thin, our attitudes may begin to look ahead with a sense of heaviness weighing our spirits down—unless—you and I remain amongst those who know themselves as so fortunate as to acknowledge that all of our loved ones are at home, taking every precautionary measure to stay healthy, and in that positively focused, proactive fashion do our think tanks choose to jump start our heartfelt connection to gratitude rather than passively watching our de-energized batteries idling, yet again.🙋🏻‍♀️❤️🌈🌻Annie

GOD SAVE US FROM DERANGED MINDS EXACERBATING TRYING TIMES

No clue if this is true but just in case—if you see an empty bottle in your yard don’t pick it up as it may be a Drano bomb, which upon being moved explodes.

As if overcoming global crises is not enough, deranged brains purposely persist in criminal activities making trying times worse—Geez!

Thank goodness, most of our brains are connected to each other’s hearts so as to freely extend helpful hands thus expanding compassion’s circle of brotherhood, which, decade by decade, grows less exclusively isolationist, more objectively inclusive on a global scope.

Thank goodness for attitudinal changes, which, proving heartfelt, give lip service less often to brotherhood when a miscarriage of justice, crossing your path or mine, requires our taking a united proactive stance, which, with education, historically expands attitudinal changes for the betterment of one and all.

Okay.  Soap box placed under desk in readiness for next time lid pops inside my head, releasing repressed voice of frustration secreted from the conscious portion of my mind by my defense system until a subconscious reaction, having been poked, feels so provoked as to feel need to express the depths of my angst clearly to me by way of stimulating my intuition to pen and publish a post like this one proves to be.

One last thought for today—beware deranged brains that suggest combatting C-19 by ingesting poisonous substances bound to seriously sicken if not kill its hosts ... GSU from POTUS!

7a AND WHAT OF THE COURAGE DEMANDED OF FIRST RESPONDERS’ FAMILIES?

Thank goodness, everyone recognizes and heralds the courage demanded of medical teams who are today’s first responders concerning ministering to our current health crises.  And what of the courage demanded of families of first responders?

Though I can understand the mindset of people whose personal fear of pending poverty may not think so objectively as to place saving lives above our failing economy, we can’t place ourselves and our young at risk, knowing full well that opening our doors to a second round with this deadly virus will kill so many that another ‘world war’ to defeat this invisible enemy will have to be fought on a global scope, setting each of us up to soldier the same dire consequences accompanying quarantine that we’re confronting, right now.  You don’t jump out of a plane, midair, for fear of crashing.

Parachutes, also known as vaccines, have yet to appear during this crises.

I think about my nephew, the ER doc, his wife and four children, every single day, and hope that they can feel their aunt and uncle’s fervent wish for their continued good health flying from our southwest desert home, across the miles to North Carolina, as our hearts long to hold all of theirs close to our own.

Once again—
My nephew, the ER doc, who is a former paramedic firefighter, set the record straight when he said—I’m accustomed to running into burning buildings.  What I’m not accustomed to is the possibility of fires following me home.
👩🏻👨🏼‍🍳❤️🌈🌻

HOW COULD A HINT OF WHITE FUZZ FEEL LIKE SUCH A BIG DEAL DURING TIMES OF CRISES?

Good Morning, Dear Friends, 😘
I hope all is well at your end and that healing continues to move forward wherever necessary.  I began to awaken, mentally, yesterday afternoon (after my last chemo infusion, more than a week ago) with a healthy appetite, again.

Will makes sure that I put away four small meals a day.  In addition to that, as of late, I savor a small slice of Sara Lee cheese cake (how long has it been since you’ve tasted that?) and a Dove Bar (the dark chocolate’s the best!) every evening—ice cream not before nine!  As those kinds of indulgences will be hard to give up once this ‘cancer thing’ is over and my weight stabilizes, I savor each bite, every day—the cheese cake alternating with hot apple pie or whatever else takes my fancy.

Makes sense that thoughts of Food and TP go together since what goes in must come out—haha!

I hope your days are going well.  As for me, grooming myself will take less than ten minutes flat being that I roam no further than our patio; no one comes to visit and there’s no reason to blow dry hair that isn’t there except for the hint of milky fuzz that answers to my touch each time my hand caresses my scalp, which has recently become some kind of self soothing habit, and the same proves true of enjoying our patio’s cushioned, two seater swing.

Though it’s quiet, days pass peaceably so that, before we know it, another weekend has come and gone, and, once again, the next week of quarantine begins, anew ....

Will’s culinary adventures continue to create dishes that delight our palates.  Last night’s delectable main course proved to be Chicken Parmesan par excellence!

P

P

The chef’s Masterpiece—Magnificent!!

Though I’ve not been able to wrap my head around any reading material that would entice me to think deep as keeping my spirit buoyed, over these past six months,p
P has required light-hearted ‘stuff’ as found in Reader’s Digest (large print, no need to squint😊) that’s beginning to change for the better, as taking my cue from RD, I ordered several large print novels from Amazon and having enjoyed reading one, the second is on my nightstand, so if you’ve read anything that I might enjoy to pass the time, your recommendations, placed in comment box, are always welcome.  I’m considering ordering additional novels published in large print being that holding a real book in hand feels somehow 

Pcomforting as we continue to stay at home except for those times when an appointment at Mayo calls my name.

The most satisfying portion of my day (with the exception of those occasions spent FaceTiming Ravi) is spent, swaying peaceably on my two-seater, padded patio swing, where my gaze lands on springtime’s blooming foliage, so beautiful as to take my breath away until, having fallen into a trancelike state, my eyelids grow heavy as I drift off into Dreamland, where cradled in my magic place, I feel as secure as a well fed babe, napping in a crib.  On the other hand, though my days are pleasant enough that’s not to say that my heart won’t rejoice with delight to hug loved ones, who are missed like crazy once sound reason for quarantine lifts. 

• 
  

We’re all going to rejoice, big time, once this pandemic has passed and hugging loved ones, whom we miss like crazy, is a common occurrence, again!  There’s so much we won’t take for granted about yesterday’s daily life!  I long to enjoy personal conversations and discussions concerning literature that have something profound to say —not on Zoom but rather face to face in the same room with those I enjoy and miss—A LOT!  On the other hand, not until today’s train of thought matches reality’s change for the better in terms of our health status will you see me going out and about anywhere other than Mayo or, eventually, MD Anderson.
P

And so dear friend, until that blessed time of release is yours and mine—please—feel my love while you and I ... Stay home. Stay well. Stay safe, busy and sane!
🙋🏻‍♀️❤️😘🌈🌻Annie

Sent from my iPad

ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS ASKED BY MY FRIEND, WHICH I FORGOT TO ANSWER

My friend, Barb, asked if I was surprised at who’d not shown up when my cancer was diagnosed.  My reply—I have no clue who would have stepped back had I not emailed the news to my dearest friends, who, over these past 76 years, number many.  I believe my keep-in-contact character trait was born when my grandfather and baby sister died, six weeks apart, and I grew up to be subconsciously afraid of loved ones disappearing without a trace if I didn’t keep close tabs on them.  Needless to say, in the absence of astute therapy, I’d have developed no clue as to where, when and why many of my personal strengths and vulnerabilities originated.

My friend Barb asked if I’d felt need to connect with lung cancer survivors—my reply—

By the time I was diagnosed at 75, Will had recovered from cancer as had so many of our dear friends that they (and our sons) formed the core of my expansive support group, and perhaps the fact that my friendships are peopled with so many survivors offers the primary reason as to why my spirit, feeling securely cushioned and encircled right from the start, continues to feel buoyed on the wings of love from the inside out straight through to and inclusive of today.

Interestingly, it was not during times of life threatening illness that saw me shocked at those who’d not rallied round.  It was during a time of pain-wracked personal growth, close to 30 years ago, when Will and I’d separated for several months that back handed gossip got back to me (as it always does) concerning rumors, which had offered falsehoods that had directly opposed the truth, letting me know who my true friends were and were not, as some chose to put me down, pour salt into my wounds and ice me out when my vulnerability was rawly exposed, and as healing from that unexpected experience provided quite the painful eye-opener concerning human nature, from then on, my choice of friends narrowed to those whom I’d respectfully chosen rather than harboring immature need to be amongst the chosen.

As a matter of fact, my current circle of friends is not a circle, at all.  My friendships are peopled by individuals, who, being active in large social circles, appeal to Will or to me or to both of us as being unique in some way that, for sound reason, we’ve come to respect, admire and love.  And thus is our current circle of friends of our own choosing.

About twenty five years ago, I initiated the formation of a neighborhood book group, born of my desire to befriend neighbors, who’d naturally ‘thunk deep’, and over time, our circle, which gathers on Mondays, grew so expansive as to have lost the intimacy that I’d originally craved, though that’s not why my presence became scare.  I was seriously unwell for a number of years; then David and my mom were seriously unwell, simultaneously, and over these past five years, with the birth of my grand daughter, Ravi, Mondays and Thursdays saw me enjoying this precious child, all day long, until Steven would come from the office and join us for dinner.  My enjoyment of book club resumed once Ravi started school.😊

So, thank you, Barbara for your patience with my forgetfulness concerning answering these questions—having learned that chemo brain is a real thing, I choose to cut my forgetfulness the same sweetened slice of compassion that my heart offers my loved ones with generosity of spirit intact.😊

We four will have such fun when going to dinner with friends feels safe, again!  Be well😘

🙋🏻‍♀️😍Annie

ADDICTED TO HOPE—FOREVER—I HOPE!

I received permission to post the Email below received from a friend—

Annie,

​Your most recent health update poetically touched on issues those of us who have had cancer relate to.  What is the right protocol – hopefully one that kills cancer without destroying a body part. 

​For 3 months I was treated for a rash my oncologist said unequivocally was not caused by chemo - it disappeared after chemo. After chemo I had shortness of breath and was afraid chemo had affected my heart. Again the doctor said this side effect was a ‘mystery’, indicating it was all in my mind.

​Often doctors don’t agree, which adds to the stress. In one day at 10:00 a.m. I was told, “Michael has a rare lymphoma tumor—no surgery”.

​At 1:00 p.m. “Michael has a glioblastoma tumor, which will be removed surgically.”  This doctor was so inarticulate I told the head nurse, “either he is on drugs or he is autistic”  She admitted he is autistic (but has a great mind). 

​At 5:00 p.m. a radiologist, “we will eradicate with radiation”.

​At 7:00 p.m. an oncologist, “we will eradicate with chemo’”.   I told this doctor I would not let him treat my cat.  Of course, I’ve had to eat my words since this doctor’s protocol saved Michael!

​There was a beautiful article in today’s Republic by Gerda Klein.  She was asked what saved her life during the Holocaust. She replied, “Hope”. Annie, your update is full of hope.  You go girl! 

Xoxo

Barb

Hi Barb

Emotion expressed in your email has touched my heart with tenderness born of empathetic truth suggesting the voice of one soul clearly identifying with the soulful need of another ...

And so, all four of us have struggled with cancer along with the imperfections inherent within the ‘practice’ of medicine.  And just as we experience both sides of most everything offered up during our lifetimes—we four have experienced the imperfect practice of medicine amidst the miracles of highly trained, medical magicians.

You know the heart-stirring song—I Will Survive—?

Well in the case of we four, the title needs changing to—

I Will Thrive!  Being that surviving vs thriving is
A matter of attitude, which is a personal choice

Thank you so much for making my day!

Once this pandemic stops gnawing and biting

Let’s plan to enjoy dinner, together, again!

Warmest hugs to you and Mike!

🙋🏻‍♀️❤️😍🌈🌻Annie

PS

Several years back

My therapist concluded that

I’m addicted to hope

Thank God, she’s right!😄

PSS
Gerta Klein, whose memoir
(became an academy award
Winning documentary produced by
Steven Spielberg) is titled
ALL BUT MY LIFE
Gerta is the mother of one of
My dear friends—whenever
Gerta speaks of her life
Not a dry eye is to be seen
Here, there, anywhere
Over many years
Will has felt honored to
Have Gerta as his patient
On the day when
A young, emaciated woman named
Gerta was freed from the camps
A young American G.I.
Held open a door for her to
Walk through toward freedom
Gerta stopped in her tracks so
He could go first
When he indicated that
She should precede him
Gerta whispered
But I am a Jew
The young G.I. replied
So am I
The name of the young G.I.
Was Kurt Klein
(May he Rest In Peace)
Kurt Klein, Gerta’s
Beloved husband
Fathered my dear friend ...
Each time an addiction to
Hope intertwines with Love
Good overcomes evil
And, yet again, do we find that
It’s a small, small world ...