This is Animal Cruelty...

Brace yourselves, I'm about to launch a colossal rant.

Anyone who's on Facebook knows how easy it is to miss a post by any friend or liked page, particularly with Facebook's "we know better than you" attitude that leads them to show us the posts they think are most important without any real say-so from us. I was constantly switching to the "Most Recent" feed until I was fortunate enough to find a script that allows me to tweak several of the settings on Facebook, including forcing them to stay on Most Recent instead of Top Stories. Anyway, I'm mentioning this because of all the posts made by the Switzerland County Animal Shelter since I "liked" their page, the first and only one I've actually seen was one that was made last Tuesday, February 5. It was post of very cute Golden Retriever puppy who was one of the dogs currently available for adoption. I clicked on the image, which took me to the SCAS page where I caught sight of another image of another dog. This is that image:

Here are the words that accompanied it: This is Marilyn. She is an English bulldog approximately 4-5 years old. Marilyn was found curled up freezing and starving in the North Dr area.

This blog is named Winsomebulldog. My header is a picture of my two Bulldogs, Katie and Briscoe. Katie was my husband's dog, a dream come true for him. A friend's family had one that he spent time with as a young man, and from then on, he always dreamed of owning one. Clearly, we are Bulldog fans.

First off, let me just confess that both Katie and Briscoe came from pet stores. We weren't as aware then as we are now of the horrors of puppy mills. For us, the consequences of purchasing our two darling Bullies at a pet store instead of from a reputable breeder were a significant array of various health issues that could undoubtedly have been avoided if their breeders had been more interested in producing healthy puppies than in the obscene amount of money they could make while forcing dogs to produce litter after litter after litter of unhealthy puppies. Having said all that, I wouldn't trade either of my precious babies for any amount of money. Losing Katie was and still is one of the most painful things I have endured.

So, what does any of this have to do with Marilyn? Well, Marilyn was almost certainly used in a puppy mill. Let me tell you why I believe that.

She is skin and bones. She has a list of health issues that is almost impossible to believe. One of those issues is swollen, raw feet with pads that have spit open. This happens when a dog is forced to stand in their own urine and feces. You can't see it clearly in the above picture, but instead of being white, as she should be, she's more a dingy yellowish brown. She smells terrible. Just so you get a full picture of her condition, let me show you a few more images.

Have you thrown up, yet? I've come close a few times since I first saw her.

The obvious issues:

• She's been starved. 
• Her nails hadn't been trimmed in, well, probably ever.
• There are mammary tumors all along her stomach because she was never spayed.
• Her eyes are milky and constantly gooey because of entropion. (Entropion is a situation where the eyelids basically roll inward, causing the lashes to constantly rub the surface of the eye. Very uncomfortable.)
• Due to the untreated entropion, both eyes are severely scarred, making her almost blind. The damage from the constant irritation was so bad that her left eye developed an ulcer that eventually ruptured. Translation, she has a hole in her eye.
• Her feet are raw.

Now for the not so obvious, but not unexpected, issues:

• She is heartworm positive. 
• All her rear teeth are so decayed that they're essentially mush and will have to be removed before they cause her jawbones to rot as well. 

More possible issues that haven't been confirmed, yet, but that I wouldn't be surprised by:

• Heavy internal parasites.
• Hip and/or knee damage from being caged constantly.

She can barely walk. This could be due to her painful feet, arthritis, or the fact that she's barely more than skin and bones. Probably a combination of all of them.

When she was found, she was curled up on the cold ground beneath a rabbit hutch, waiting to die. The lady who picked her up said she just looked like she'd given up. She was so cold that she spent the rest of that day shivering, just trying to get warm.

When I saw that picture of her, taken as soon as she was brought into the shelter, I knew I had to do something. I sent the shelter several messages, asking for more information. As soon as my husband got home, I showed him the picture. He was as horrified as I was.

The next morning, I began communicating with the shelter about her. They'd guessed her age to be 4-5 years. By the end of that day, I was positive that I wanted to bring her home with me.

The next day, Feb. 7, she was due to see a vet. I had errands to run in the morning, but went over to the shelter as soon as I got home to meet her. I'd seen the picture, so I knew she was terribly skinny. The shelter had informed me that the picture didn't show how truly bad it was. What really got me when I first saw her, though, was the way she was curled up in a tiny ball on her blanket. She was in the isolation room along with several other smaller dogs. As dogs do, they all began barking like mad as soon as the door was opened. Marilyn's head lifted, then dropped once more in dejection. She began to tremble. All I could think was how much I wanted to take her to a quiet place, wrap her in warm blankets, and cradle her in my lap.

She had her vet appointment later in the afternoon and the shelter assured me that they would call once they knew something. I got that phone call at 5. That's when they told me about the heartworms, her eyes, the mammary tumors, her teeth, and that she was closer to 8 years old. The vet suggested putting her down, but they didn't because I'd already told them that we would still take her if she turned out to be heartworm positive. I'd prepared for that. I hadn't braced myself for all the rest of it.

When I got off the phone with the shelter, I sent my hubby a text message explaining all the additional issues she was facing. Her teeth will have to be removed. This is surgery. The entropion can be fixed through another surgery. The mammary glands can be removed when she is spayed. ANOTHER surgery. And don't forget those heartworms. Want to know how they kill those suckers? Arsenic. That's right. They poison the nasty little things. Follow that up with having countless dead worms flushed through damaged arteries and you're talking about a huge physical impact on the body. Look at those pictures again. Think she can survive that? The vet had concerns that she'd be able to survive any of the treatments she needs.

I hung up the phone and started crying. I just couldn't help it. I kept seeing her curled up on that blanket. I kept thinking about the hell she's been forced to endure. It is obvious that she's been bred repeatedly. Whatever bastards - yes, I know it's an ugly word - had her, used her, abused her, and then threw her away when she got too sick to be of further use. This is what I kept thinking about. Would it be kinder to just put her down? Would it be cruel to try to "fix" all her problems?

Needless to say, I didn't sleep that night. But when I got up Friday morning I'd made a decision. I had to give her a chance. She's known nothing but misery. She deserves so much more. I eventually came to the decision that even if she doesn't survive one of the cures for her many ailments, I could at least give her the best life possible for however long she lives. I can keep her full and warm and give her all the love she has never known but so obviously needs. And she just might survive it all. Katie was 11 before the cancer took her from us. This precious little girl could have several more years of life left to live. Happy, healthy years. I simply could not deny her that chance.

So, I went to the shelter and picked her up. I brought her home and gave her a chance to sniff a bit in the yard and potty. Then I brought her in the house and put her down on the large orthopedic dog bed that we keep in our living room for Malcolm to lay on. The boys gave her a few cursory sniffs. She wasn't sure what to think of them, but I laid down beside her and gently stroked her head and ears until she started dozing off. I tucked her blanket in around her so she could nap.

Since then, she's had some food and water, and been outside several times. She got a little bit sick, probably from drinking too much. She was a thirsty girl. She's napping on Malcolm's bed, occasionally waking up to look around, as if she's making sure she's still in a warm, safe place.

She has a very long road ahead of her. She needs a bath terribly, but I don't want to put her through the stress. I want to give her a few days to settle in, to feel at home and completely safe before I start doing things that I know will make her uneasy.

I have no idea what her personality is truly like. She's so weak that she doesn't do much more than eat, drink, and sleep. She is just so painfully thin. Watching her try to walk is agonizing. I want to do something, to make her better, to make her happy. Every time I look at her, I am sickened again by how much she has suffered.

Somewhere out there is a person or persons who used a beautiful, gentle, sweet, loving dog to make money with absolutely no regard for her welfare. They could make money off her because people buy dogs off the Internet and out of classified ads in the newspaper, sight unseen. They don't visit the breeder or insist upon meeting the parents of the puppy they're buying.

There is very serious problem in this country. We continue to view dogs, cats, horses, livestock, any domestic animals, as property, no different than a car or a sofa. We blame dogs for being dogs, condemning entire breeds or even breed types for the actions of a few while simultaneously deifying those who contribute to the problem. Michael Vick not only participated in dog fighting, he tortured his dogs to death, yet he didn't actually go to jail for that. He was allowed to plea to "Conspiracy to Travel in Interstate Commerce in Aid of Unlawful Activities and to Sponsor a Dog in an Animal Fighting Venture." Racketeering. In the state of Virginia, he submitted a guilty plea to a single Virginia felony charge for dog fighting, receiving a 3 year prison sentence suspended on condition of good behavior, and a $2,500 fine. He spent less than 2 years in prison, got out and picked his NFL career right back up where he left off. He was named the 2010 NFL Comeback Player of the Year and was selected to his fourth Pro Bowl.

This from a man who admitted to providing most of the financing for the operation and to participating directly in several dog fights in Virginia, Maryland, North Carolina and South Carolina. He admitted to sharing in the proceeds from these dog fights. He further admitted that he knew his colleagues killed several dogs who did not perform well. He admitted to being involved in the destruction of 6–8 dogs, by hanging or drowning.

How many thousands of people have cheered for Michael Vick during his "comeback?" How many people out there look at him and think he served his time and should be granted a fresh start despite the fact that he was never convicted of animal cruelty? He never spent one day in jail for it. Even if he had been convicted of animal abuse, he would have gotten little to no jail time for it and a monetary fine of a few thousand dollars.

Abusing an animal is a misdemeanor. No matter how terrible the abuse, how horrific the suffering of an animal, current criminal laws make it nearly impossible to convict anyone of animal cruelty short of having film of them committing it, and convictions carry penalties that tend to amount to a slap on the wrist.

Marilyn is not an inanimate object. She is a living, breathing, feeling creature. She has emotions. She feels pain and fear, suffers grief and loneliness. She has her own personality. She's an individual just like I am or you are. She is beautiful and sweet, wholly undeserving of the hell she's been put through.

So I'm left to ask, how many of you out there have a dog tied up out in your yard? How many have a wire kennel that you visit once a day just to drop off some food and water while the dog you've caged inside spends every single moment all alone? How many of you don't bother to get your pet spayed or neutered, or give the heartworm and flea prevention? They're just dogs, right? All dogs have fleas. So what?

Just because I can't bear to end this on a completely depressing note, I'm going to add one final picture.

Marilyn and her blankets, curled up on her comfy bed. No more shivering. No more fear. Whatever the future holds for her, at least she finally won't have to face it all alone.

I've used the name given to her by the shelter workers during this post, but that isn't the name we're going to call her by. I wanted something less formal sounding, so we've called her Maggie. Maggie May. Of course she doesn't recognize her name, yet. But she's already beginning to respond to the sound of my voice. Perhaps more telling, there have been at least two times that I've seen her wake up and turn her head toward me, her scarred eyes struggling to focus. I speak a few words to her, telling her what a good, sweet girl she is, and she lowers her head back down and returns to her sleep. Don't anyone dare try to tell me that dogs don't crave the companionship of their people.

My, How Time Flies...

It's almost over. There is one treatment left to go. There will still be a few more months of cancer related tests and appointments, of course. And the port will have to be flushed every six weeks until they decide to remove it. But after the first week in November, my cancer treatment will officially be over.

Looking back, it hardly seems possible that it has been more than a year since that moment when my doctor got that worried look on her face while doing my breast exam. It also seems hard to believe that that moment was truly the worst one of the whole journey. That instant when the whole world seemed to stop and my stomach dipped uneasily as I realized she'd found something she didn't like. That single split second when my mind leapt forward to the idea of cancer.

I know we're all different. From our individual personalities to our faith - or lack thereof - to our specific cancers and the treatments they require. Compared to so many others, I think I got off easy. I did not need a mastectomy. The cancer, while aggressive, was confined to that single tumor, making a lumpectomy the best option. My chemo was potent, but relatively short in duration. (Only 4 treatments of the worst stuff compared to others who've needed far more.) Eight total chemo treatments and six or so weeks of radiation just seemed to fly by.

When I look back, it's actually kind of hard to remember just how difficult it was. The pain could be intense at times. And the radiation left me feeling like a severely overcooked slab of meat, complete with blisters and peeling skin. There is still soreness. My breast varies from being mildly sore like an overworked muscle to being so sensitive that washing it in the shower is uncomfortable. It feels different than the other one. And while the Herceptin that I've been getting for the past year carries only one real side effect, it's a serious one. Potential heart failure at any point down the road. So that's something we'll have to keep an eye on. But all in all, I still count myself as having been profoundly blessed. Because I know I had it easy.

I think that's one of biggest keys to getting through the treatment. We have to keep in mind that it could always, ALWAYS,  be so much worse. Worse for me would be if it were someone other than myself. Because one of the things I have realized is that I find it profoundly easier to be the patient than to be the caregiver. Not because I dislike caring for others, but because it absolutely breaks my heart to see those I love in pain. I'm a fixer, I guess. Sadly, cancer isn't something that can be hugged or loved away.  Plus, I have no fear at all of dying. Losing those I love, however, is something I abhor.

Caring for and loving a cancer patient was infinitely more difficult for me than actually being the patient myself. Seeing what cancer did to my sister and mother-in-law hurt me in ways my own cancer couldn't begin to. I would gladly take on every illness of those I love just to keep them from having to go through it.

Which brings up another issue. My darling hubby has been diagnosed with type II diabetes. I have suspected it for a while and could kick myself for not forcing him to get tested sooner. It took his eyesight going haywire for him to finally admit something was wrong. Sure enough, his A1C test revealed that, at least for the past few months, his blood glucose levels have been hovering somewhere around 300! No wonder his eyesight went crazy. Funny thing is, it actually got better. A lot better. He's been on diabetes medication for about a month now and his eyesight is returning to normal, though it is still not back to where it was before.

He's a good patient, once he's actually convinced that there's a problem. He watches what he eats and was testing all the time until he got a handle on how certain foods effect his levels. I don't know if he's where he ultimately needs to be with his medication dosage, but he's come a long way from the high 200s and low 300s he was testing at in the beginning.

Ultimately, I see this as just another thing to be thankful for. Because God saw fit to give him a symptom he couldn't ignore. Because he's now being treated and is losing weight to boot. (Now, if I could just do the same. [sigh])  I'm almost finished with my treatment, he's easing into a new job, and life is incredibly good. I wake up every day thinking about how blessed we are.

So, I suggest that anyone out there who is struggling to find the good in their cancer battle might want to simply be thankful that it is them in the battle instead of their spouse, parents, siblings, or children. That's what I am most thankful for.

One Year Later...

It has been a year since my OB/GYN found the lump in my breast during a routine breast exam while I was in for my annual gynecological exam. Actually, it was a year on June 16th, but I went back for this year's exam today, June 20th. I don't mind saying that I was kinda holding my breath while she did my breast exam. I mean, I check myself regularly now. I didn't before the diagnosis, which leads me to see this as just one more time in my life (among countless others) when God showed me grace and protected me from my own idiocy.

Ladies,

DO MONTHLY BREAST SELF-EXAMS!!!!!

Anyway, despite the fact that I do my own exams regularly these days, I was still a bit concerned that she might find something I hadn't. I mean, she's the one who found the last lump. It was an irrational fear, I know, but I felt it none-the-less. I should let you know how much I love my OB/GYN. I've been going to her for years and years now. When I first found her, I lived quite a bit closer to where her office is located. These days it takes me closer to an hour to get there, since we've moved in the intervening years. But I don't mind the trip. Not for her. She is a master at making you feel comfortable and at ease in spite of what's going on. We always chat like we're sitting at a cafe table instead of with me naked as the day I was born with my legs up in stirrups. LOL  So while she was doing my breast exam we just chatted as usual. She was very thorough this time and I appreciated that. Not that she isn't always thorough, but she took a bit of extra time today. And praise God, she didn't find anything at all out of the ordinary. There was one funny moment when she felt my port beneath my skin and got a worried look on her face for just an instant before she realized what it was. We were both laughing about that.

We spent some time talking about my treatment, how it had gone and what I still had left to do. We talked about my not being able to take birth control pills ever again. This is an issue that has kind of confused both Mark and me since I was first told it by my Oncologist last year some time. My cancer was not hormone receptive. Most breast cancers are. So we kept trying to figure out why I had to avoid taking hormones of any kind since my cancer was negative for progesterone and estrogen. She said she'd heard it explained thus: If you think of breast cancer as a weed, then the hormones act kind of like a fertilizer. Since I have shown the ability to grow cancer, the last thing we'd want to do is "feed" my cells something that the cancer likes to eat. What a simple explanation!

Needless to say, I walked out of the office feeling a lot better this year than I did last year. The next big date will be my mammogram. That's coming up next month. It'll be my first since shortly before I got my official diagnosis last year. I've been x-rayed and scanned half to death plenty of times in the past year, but the mammogram is a big deal. One of my favorite sayings I've seen since I started my treatment is, "One more MRI and I'll stick to the fridge." I also like, "Any more radiation and I'll glow in the dark." There's also, "My oncologist does my hair." I put all these on t-shirts in my Zazzle store. There's a lot more than that, but these are some of the ones that still crack me up when I see them today.

So, what's happening a year later? What have I learned? Honestly, I don't know that I necessarily learned anything, other than the obvious experience of having gone through all the treatment. I went into it knowing I was going to need God to get me through it. And I have to say that He did. By His grace, I came through it all with flying colors. I don't know that I learned anything, per se, but I do know that I recognized a lot of things. I have spent this entire journey marveling at how much God has blessed me. Every step of the way, He supplied my needs, as He has promised us He would. But He went further and gave me so much more than just what I needed.

He didn't merely provide Mark with a job that would supply us with insurance. He gave Mark a job with the best insurance we have ever had, bar none. And this job also started out as a day shift job, working a schedule that allowed Mark to be off 2-3 days each week so that he'd be able to not only take me to my treatments, but be home on the first day or so afterward to take care of me. God didn't just supply me with treatment options, He blessed me with the option to get all my care at a location that was less than half an hour from home. He didn't just allow the medications I took to fight my cancer, He allowed me to take those medicines without enduring anything close to the worst of their possible side effects. God didn't just give me a husband who does his responsibility of providing for my physical needs, but He gave me a husband who loves me more than any other person on earth. One who made incredible sacrifices without complaint or reluctance. The list could go on and on and on.

I've recently taken part in an online conversation with a young man who in an atheist. He, like so many others, wanted us to explain to him, intellectually, how we came to believe in God. How we know God is real despite the fact that we have no proof. I wasn't the only one who responded that we do have proof. Aside from the fact that the Bible says that Creation itself is evidence of God's existence, I know God is real because I have seen the evidence of His hand touching my life. Oh, I know that atheists would call it coincidence or good luck or fate or a whole host of other things. But I know God is there. I have felt His touch on my life, heard His whisper in my ear, and witnessed His grace more times than I can count. There's a song that has been sung by many artists. I learned it courtesy of The Florida Boys. It's called, "My God Is Real."

There are some things I may not know, there are some places I can't go, but I am sure of this one thing, my God is real for I can feel Him in my soul.

My God is real, He's real in my soul, my God is real for He has washed and made me whole, His love for me is like pure gold. My God is real for I can feel Him in my soul.

I cannot tell just how I felt when Jesus washed my sins away, but since that day yes since that hour, God has been real for I can feel His holy power.

My God is real, He's real in my soul, my God is real for He has washed and made me whole, His love for me, is like pure gold. My God is real for I can feel Him in my soul.

Here's a video of them singing it, if you're interested:

As I recently told the young atheist, we can't provide him with scientific proof of God. For us, we believe God is real by faith, but countless experiences every day of our lives also confirm our faith. We see God everywhere, in everything. I know I certainly do.

And so, a year into living life as a woman with breast cancer, what I can say I have learned is that God is still real. He is still on the throne. Nothing happens by chance or luck or fate. Everything is part of His grand plan and He is never, ever far from our sides. I am so grateful for what He has given me. For His infinite love and patience and blessing, even when I don't deserve it. My God is real. And He's indescribably great!

Simple Truths...

Life is not the way it's supposed to be. It's the way it is. The way you cope with it is what makes the difference.

This was the opening line of an email forwarded to me by a couple of my friends. It struck me that I know so many people out there who spend all their time being angry or disappointed or defeated by the loss of what they believe was their "destiny." We all have dreams when we're kids. Most of us go through a series of "what I want to be when I grow up" phases. Firemen (or women), police officers, cowboys, princesses, teachers, wives, husbands, parents, rock stars... the list goes on and on. For most of us, our dreams change and grow along with us. When I was in my teens I remember an acquaintance who wanted nothing in the world more than to grow up and get married and have babies. There are plenty of women out there who want children with a desire bordering on desperation. Men have their share of obsessions about who and what they want to be and want to have. We are all raised with notions of how life should be. Fairy tales probably don't help matters. They always end with everyone living "happily ever after." Worse, that ending always comes with the implication that "happily ever after" is something that just happens with no work at all. 

I'm not knocking fairy tales. I actually believe "happily ever after" CAN happen. I think it's happened to me. And while I would never, ever tell someone how to raise their children, I find it sad when I see children missing out on the wonder and magic of imagination given free reign. Sure, the real world is out there, lurking, and sooner or later we all have to learn to face it and deal with it. But these days kids seem to be growing up faster and faster all the time and that's a shame. We spend the majority of our lives as adults. Our childhoods ought to be filled with joy and laughter and impossible dreams. Reality hits us all too soon and I, for one, wish kids could hold on to their innocence as long as possible.

The problem is, too many out there grow up thinking they have some kind of RIGHT to get things their way. They get mad when things don't turn out the way they thought they should, or the way they were raised to believe things "should" turn out. As wonderful as the fairy tales are, I think we all need to remember that the real world just doesn't work that way. Like I said, I don't believe "happily ever after" is a myth, I just happen to know that it doesn't come easy and it takes a lot of work. And this is where the trouble starts. I'll use myself as an example.

I was supposed to go to college and get married. I was NOT supposed to wake up one day at 17 to find my mother collapsed on the bathroom floor. I wasn't supposed to be sitting in the ICU of a hospital on the one year anniversary of my engagement waiting for my mother to die. I wasn't supposed to bury my father three years later. I wasn't supposed to find out the day after 9/11 that my sister was dying of cancer. I wasn't supposed to watch my mother-in-law, and best friend, lose the ability to speak because of the terminal brain cancer that killed her. And I wasn't supposed to go in for a routine yearly exam and come out with breast cancer. I was barely 39. I have no family history of breast cancer at all. None of these things were ever a part of my childhood dreams. Until the day my mother died, I never even considered that losing her was a possibility. For a lot of years, I was lost to my anger and grief over this event. It wasn't "supposed" to happen. But it did. All of it.

I've been told by more than one person that I have a "good" or "wonderful" attitude as I deal with having cancer. Compared to the reactions I've seen in some others, I guess my attitude is a good one. But the reality is, I've learned how to face the often painful and ugly realities of life out of necessity. I lost so much time to depression when my mother died. Even today, more than two decades later, I occasionally have flashes of the old anger and grief. Mostly, I just miss her. I miss my father and my sister. I miss my husband's mom. The anger I once felt over the "unfairness" of it all is pretty much gone. Because the fact is, no one ever promised us that life would be fair. God certainly didn't. He never said that we would sail through life with sunny skies and smooth seas. In fact, He pretty much said the opposite. But that's a lesson too few of us seem to learn. 

And this is where that quote above rings so true. Life just never goes the way it's "supposed" to go. Tragedy strikes all the time. One viewing of the news should teach us all that truth. None of the nearly 15,000 who died in Japan expected that to happen. The hundreds who have died in the recent tornadoes that swept through the South didn't plan on that happening. Each person who died in these tragedies left behind family and friends who will now have to grieve. And that's what it all really comes down to. Whether it's the loss of a friend or family member, or the loss of a long held dream, or the loss of personal wealth or health, all of it is loss and inspires varying degrees of grief. How we deal with that grief is what defines us. 

I have learned to just let go of preconceived notions of what should or shouldn't happen. I have learned to change what I can and accept what I can't. In short, I have learned to "let go, and let God." I don't always understand why things happen, but I've learned to trust that there's a reason. Being angry helps no one, especially me. Being angry makes us miserable and just makes it harder on those around us. I sincerely believe that the greatest failing of most parents is that they do not teach their children to have an attitude of thankfulness. As Christians, we are supposed to be thankful even in the midst of trials, to be content with what we have instead of always wanting more and more. As a point of fact, I wish everyone knew God and trusted Him. But even those who choose not to do so would do well to learn to appreciate the blessings of what they have instead of being angry about what they don't. It's not that hard to do. Just open your eyes and take a look around you. You will see someone worse off than you. There is always someone who has it harder. I have lost many of my family members, but at least I had loving family. Some kids grow up without ever knowing what it means to be loved and cared for. I have cancer, but my prognosis is good while there are others out there who are told at their diagnosis that they're unlikely to survive. The side effects of cancer treatment aren't easy, but others reacted much worse than I did. I am just stunned by how many people out there can overlook the fact that however bad their situation, it could ALWAYS be worse!

I have encountered people who were bitter about how their life was going. Bitter and angry that they have an illness like cancer. Bitter and full of rage that someone they cared about died. Mad at God and the entire world because their life didn't turn out precisely the way they thought it should have. My response? GROW UP! Life isn't fair. It isn't a fairy tale. It isn't a bed of roses. Pick whatever metaphor you like. The basic truth is that we just don't always get what we want. Sometimes life can be full of grief and pain and tragedy. Sometimes it seems like we barely overcome one tragedy only to be slapped in the face by a new one. We have the choice to either rise above it or wallow in the grief and anger. The easiest way to do this is to stop feeling so sorry for yourself and recognize that it just is what it is and the only thing to do is keep moving forward. Even more importantly, we need to keep in mind that there is a reason for everything. Considering some of the absolutely horrific things I see on the news every single day, I do wonder what good could possibly come from some of it. The terrible things people do to each other every day are just awful. How could any good come of the unspeakable atrocities that are perpetrated on helpless children? Or the crimes and abuses committed against adults for that matter? How can we find any hint of good or benefit in an ill child or loved one? The answer is always the same. WE CAN'T!!!! Only God knows the ultimate outcome. Only He knows where our journey will take us. Only He can see every single aspect of every moment in time. When we try to understand things with our limited hearts and minds we will fail every single time. Because our human nature gets in the way. We start demanding explanations and answers from the One who created us. We start trying to grasp the infinite with our profoundly finite minds and understanding. I'm not trying to make excuses or avoid the very real issue of doubts and fears. I have just learned through my own personal life that the only way I can face the uncertainty and grief and fear in the world is to trust that God is always and forever in complete control. Whether I understand it all or not, He has a plan. He is at work in every moment of my life. The things that I think I cannot endure are tolerable because He makes it so.

The key to dealing with the unexpected changes to our plans and dreams and desires is to simply trust God to always work things out for the best for us. As Garth Brooks said years ago, "sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers." Though I don't actually believe any prayer is unanswered. Sometimes the answer is just "no." Looking back I can certainly think of seasons in my life when I was utterly convinced that I knew what was best for me, that I simply could not endure to go forward if I didn't get whatever it was I thought I wanted or needed. Like the song, I too had an early love that I thought I couldn't live without. Yet here I am, two and a half decades later with the man God knew I would one day meet and love. And I am profoundly grateful that when I was begging God to keep me and my first boyfriend together that He, in His wisdom, said, "No." Wow, am I grateful for that!! I now cannot imagine my life without my precious husband in it. He is my heart, my best friend and companion. His mere presence lifts my heart. God knew what was right for me. He knew the plans He had for me and for Mark and even though I couldn't see it then, He knew that the grief of that moment would be utterly overwhelmed with the joy of being joined to the "right" man in the future. And this is what life is all about for me. Even though I don't understand it, even though some of the things I see or endure break my heart, I know that somehow, some way, some day there will be good that comes from it. Maybe I won't even see it. Maybe it will be a change in someone else's life that I won't even know about until I learn of it in heaven. I can't know everything now. I can't see everything. But God can. And trusting Him is the only way to live. It's the only way to find peace in a world that seems increasingly ugly and harsh.

Thank you, God, for saying no. Thank You for giving me what I need instead of what I want. And thank You for loving me even when I questioned You.

 

GOOD News/BAD News/NO News

GOOD News:

I got the results from my BRAC Analysis (which is actually a test of the BRCA 1 and BRCA 2 genes) and they were negative. Specifically, no mutation was found. This is very GOOD news! It means that there is no abnormalities in either of the genes that have so far specifically been linked to breast cancer. 

BAD News:

I got up with a sore throat this morning. More than sore, it's raw. I blame Mark. He was sick earlier in the week with exactly the same symptoms. My nose isn't stopped up or runny, but I've got snot running down the back of my throat, making it really sore. Not fun. Hopefully it won't last more than a couple of days. I waited until I got back home from Madison to take something for it because I was already tired when I left and I didn't want to make myself even more sleepy. I even stopped at the Java Bean to pick up some coffee, both for the caffeine and the warmth. (I could have made some here before I left but I just didn't think about it until I was already heading toward town.) Bill remembered me from the last time I was in and asked how things were going. I told him that I was finished with the chemo and radiation and he and Jay both congratulated me on it. Then Bill gave me a very yummy coconut confection on my way out the door in celebration. They're such sweet guys. If you're ever in the Vevay, Indiana area you really should stop in and have some lunch or dinner, or just try some of their fantastic confections. They're all heavenly!

NO News:

I still have another genetic test pending. It's called BART (BRAC Analysis Rearrangement Test). It's a test that looks at a broader section of the genes to see if there are any more rare mutations. For someone my age, my doctor says they like to test for everything they possibly can. So I'm still waiting to hear about this test's results. Hopefully they'll be in soon.

Now I want to touch on something I've talked about before, but I just have to mention one more time. GOD IS AMAZING!!!! I woke up this morning, feeling sick and tired and still a bit anxious about what I'd hear when I got to the doctor's office. I get several devotions and Bible verses sent to me through various avenues, Facebook, Email, Blogs, etc. I was sitting on the side of the bed and grabbed up my iPad to check my email. (It has a handy little envelope icon that lets me know whenever I have new mail.) I had 3 new messages. Two were random stuff and one was a daily email I get from James Ryle at Truthworks. In all honesty, I get so many devotions each day that I rarely get the chance to read them all. I save them to look back on later, but I don't always read them. The emails I get from James (he calls his devotions Rylisms) always start the same way. He bases each of them on a verse or verses and those verses are the first thing he writes. They're often the only thing I can actually see on the email. I have to click a link to go to his site and get the entire devotion. This was precisely what I saw when I glanced at today's Rylism in my inbox:

The Untouchables

“You shall not be afraid of the terror by night, nor of the arrow that flies by day, nor of the pestilence that walks in darkness, nor of the destruction that lays waste at noonday. A thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand; but it shall not come near...

 This is Psalms 91:5-7, minus the word "you" at the end. On his site James includes verse 8, but it was these words above that I saw and that felt like the voice of God speaking directly to my heart. I was not so much afraid as anxious, but the result is the same. It robs me of the peace that only comes from fully trusting in God. We SHALL NOT BE AFRAID of anything the world or the devil may throw at us because God is with us, He is our protector, our loving Father, our Sword and Shield against whatever comes our way. Praise the Lord for His love and care!

I didn't even read the devotion. I just saw this scripture and felt the touch of God. I got up and dressed and left just a few minutes later. And out in the car, when I plugged my iPod into my radio and selected a playlist titled "Favorite Christian" this is what I heard:

Either Way (I Win)
written by Frank Arnold, from the album "Faithful" by The Arnolds

Lord, I've fought this battle for so long, and while I've grown weary, I've tried to stay strong
Though the battle rages, when it's all said and done, I'll be undefeated 'cause I've already won

Either way, I win, if You should call me home today, or on this earth You let me stay
For when my life comes to an end, it's only then that it really begins, either way, I win

Lord, You hold my next breath in the palm of Your hand, it's Yours to release or withhold if You should plan
It's kind of hard to feel sad if I think of it that way, so it's all up to You, Lord, do I go, or do I stay?

Either way, I win, if You should call me home today, or on this earth You let me stay
For when my life comes to an end, it's only then that it really begins, either way, I win

Heaven or earth, torn between the two, I love my precious family, but Lord, I love You too, oh yes I do

Either way, I win, if You should call me home today, or on this earth You let me stay
For when my life comes to an end, it's only then that it really begins, either way, I win, either way, I win

Here's a video version of the song I spent way too much time working on. LOL

There were other songs with a similar thing that came after this one. God has done this before for me. He uses music all the time to catch my attention and speak to me. The verse from Psalms above and this song being the first that came on when my iPod is set to play the songs in random order is the hand of God. Call me foolish if you like. Tell me it's merely a coincidence. But I know my Lord is there and that He loves me and cares for me and speaks to me a thousand times a day in a thousand different ways.

If you're facing cancer or any other seemingly insurmountable foe, just remember that God is ALWAYS in control. And even if you lose this fight, you have already won the battle if you just trust in Him. Jesus won the war a long time ago on Calvary. Praise God!

Patience...

I am not a particularly patient person. (And before anyone suggests it, I am far too smart to actually ask the Lord to help me learn to be patient. Not gonna fall for THAT one! LOL) Having cancer pretty much forces a person to at least learn to accept that patience is indeed a virtue, whether you have it or not. The various treatments and tests and countless doctor's appointments leave a person with no choice but to spend a lot of time just sitting around, waiting. Chemo can take hours to get, all while sitting in a chair in a room with others who are in the exact same boat as you are. If you're at one of the larger treatment centers, this usually at least means that you have room for a companion to keep you company and a personal television to watch if that's your choice. I went to the closest treatment center I could find, which meant we were all in a tiny little room that barely had space enough for 3 treatment chairs and a medicine cabinet. I'm not exaggerating here. It's an incredibly small space. There is one television in the room that is on or off according to the whim of whoever gets there first. Which means you watch whatever they're watching, too. I saw several episodes of Bonanza, along with a few days of the new "Let's Make a Deal," "The Price is Right," and an assortment of soap operas.

Mostly I just hooked my iPad up to my headphones and listened to internet radio to drown out the TV. I'm not much of a fan of daytime television.

On a quick side note, KDH is building a new hospital up on top of the hill in Madison and the Cancer Treatment Center will be getting a new facility as well. Hopefully one that will give the nurses more room to work and the patients more room to relax during treatment. I certainly don't want to give the impression that I am anything but grateful for all those who took care of me during my treatment. As small as the KDH treatment center is, everyone there is beyond kind and caring. And while the size of the current center does make it difficult if you're hoping to have a friend or loved one present with you during treatment, that's hardly a reason to refuse to go there. Hopefully the new center will make it easier for everyone; nurses, patients, and the doctor as well. It's all due to be completed in approximately a year.

So, while I am not an inherently patient person, I have learned to tolerate the waiting. I have to say that having my iPad helped tremendously. It made it possible for me to listen to music, read, play cards, do crosswords, and countless other things while I was sitting there. Not to mention that I also use it to keep track of all my medical info. It's one piece of technology that has made my life easier and more convenient. Love the thing!

I've said all this to get to the point that despite almost a year of having to wait for one thing or another, I'm still not a patient person. I get antsy when I have to wait for something. Well, I get antsy when waiting for test results. I've done plenty of this already. From the day my OB/GYN first found the lump right on up until now, waiting to get some test and then waiting to get the results has been an ongoing theme. I don't really worry about what will be found. There's no point in that. From day one I've trusted that whatever came, God would get me through it. (And He certainly has!) But I'm a person who hates not KNOWING what I'm facing. It isn't that I think having knowledge will somehow change things, I just like being informed. I like knowing what's coming, good or bad. I am certainly not one of those people who would be comfortable burying my head in the sand and hoping for the best. I don't care if I'm facing a nightmare so long as I can go into it knowing what's ahead. This is why I researched every aspect of my cancer until I was going cross-eyed from reading. It's why I studied and read up on what the worst case scenario might be even before getting an official cancer diagnosis and stage. Having the info doesn't change what's coming, but it makes it easier for me to face it, I guess.

It has occurred to me that this could be part of the lesson I should be learning from this whole experience. Facing something WITHOUT knowing what to expect might just be the whole point. I'm sure God wants me to learn to trust Him fully, to rest in Him and not be so anxious even when I don't have a clue as to what I might be facing down the road. I'm trying to do that, Lord, I promise.

Okay, back to the issue that has me thinking about this in the first place. I had genetic testing done last week to see if I carry the currently recognized genes that are tied to breast cancer. It must be stated that geneticists believe that the handful of genes that are currently recognized are merely the tip of the iceberg, meaning that eventually there will be many, many more that will be found. So even if someone tests negative with the current BRAC Analysis, that doesn't mean they don't have some kind of genetic anomaly. It just means that if you're positive, then you have some serious thinking to do. I got the call yesterday afternoon that the results of my test are in. We weren't here at the time and by the time we got home, they were gone for the day, so I had to call the office first thing this morning. My radiation oncologist - Dr. Eileen McGarvey, whom I really like - prefers to sit down face to face to discuss the results. On the one hand, this is what I love about her. She's my kind of doctor, meaning she gives a lot of information about whatever it is she's explaining to you. My surgeon - Dr. Amy Gefaldi - is the same way. Love them both! On the other hand, this means I have to wait until tomorrow to see her and get the results of the test. And so, here I am, feeling antsy and hyper and just wishing I knew what they'd found so I could know if I'm going to be facing more testing and/or possibly surgeries, or if I will just be doing the regular routine of preventative healthcare in the future. The anxiousness won't change a thing, but I can't seem to help feeling it. Here's what I'm looking at:

If the test is positive, then I have to sit down and consider how I want to handle it. Being positive means I would be at a higher risk for not only another breast cancer, but ovarian cancer as well. That can be handled a number of ways. I could get more frequent testing, which would include regular monthly breast self exams and a breast exam performed by my doctor twice a year. The heightened risk of ovarian cancer would mean having ovarian ultrasounds twice a year. Of course these tests would be in addition to standards like a yearly pap smear and mammogram. These are what would be considered the most conservative options. From them we swing to the other side of the pendulum where we find more radical options. I could have a bilateral mastectomy, which would obviously reduce the chances of another breast cancer. Besides this surgery, I would have to decide on what kind of reconstruction I would want. More surgeries. And then there is the option to remove my ovaries, which would significantly reduce my chances of developing ovarian cancer. Significant meaning 75% to 90% less chance of getting it. Of course that means entering menopause for good, which would come with some issues of its own.

If the test comes up negative, that unfortunately doesn't mean I'm necessarily off the hook. As I said, the genes that are tested for are just the ones which have been definitively connected to breast cancer. I could be negative for them and positive for one that hasn't been mapped yet. Then again, the fact is that any one of us could be a cancer time bomb just waiting to go off. I've had it once, which means I'm more likely to get it again, but that's not such a big deal when you consider that everyone is cancer free until they aren't any more. Basically, cancer is like any other illness or accident or tragedy that might come upon anyone at any time with no warning at all. We can't lock ourselves in our houses and hide. We have to just live our lives and take on the challenges when they come our way.

It would probably make things easier if I wasn't always feeling so impatient. I see the doctor tomorrow morning to find out my test results. Between now and then I'm going to do my best to not stew on it. Like I said, it's not that I'm worried about what I'll hear. Either way, it's out of my control. But I hate the waiting. I want to get on with whatever will be coming next. [sigh] While I won't pray for patience, I will (and do) pray for peace and strength to not give in to my flawed nature. I'll be back tomorrow to let everyone know what the results are and what the next steps will be. Until then, keep on trusting God. I know I will!

Signs of Radiation Exposure...

Well, I'm into my third week of radiation treatments. As I was laying there today listening to the machine buzzing while it zapped me, I couldn't help thinking about Japan and it's nuclear situation. If the worst were to happen (and I know we are all praying that it WON'T!) the kind of radiation that would be spewed into the atmosphere is actually the same thing that has been used to treat cancer, though not in my case. I find that fact amazing. Like chemotherapy, radiation treatment is so counter intuitive. The very form of radiation, cesium-137 that is released during a nuclear meltdown, the thing that has contaminated everything surrounding Chernobyl and that led to who knows how many deaths and illnesses after that catastrophe, is deliberately aimed at cancer patients in an effort to rid them of the mutated cells that could kill them. Yet exposure to cesium-137 causes cancer. Does anyone else have trouble wrapping their brain around the logic? LOL

Anyway, on Mondays they take a couple of x-rays along with my treatment to make sure their targeting is still good. Conveniently, the same machine that treats me takes the x-rays. Isn't that handy?! I also had my third MUGA scan yesterday. That's where they inject me with even more radiation, wait half an hour, then put me in yet another machine that takes a series of images of my heart. I'll have one of these done every three months or so to make sure the Herceptin I get every three weeks isn't damaging my heart. I haven't gotten the results of this test, yet. I don't know if they'll call me or just wait for me to see the doctor next week.

On Tuesdays, I see my radiation oncologist after my treatments. Our first two visits during my first two weeks were only a couple of minutes long. She's an awesome doctor, and I love how thorough she is. During my first two weeks she just wanted to make sure I didn't have any other questions or concerns. I didn't. I did have something to discuss with her today, though.

I actually noticed last week sometime that there were some differences in my breast, mostly in the coloring. On Sunday I noticed that there was a red area on my chest in the upper left quadrant of my right breast. Meaning I had a red spot just to the right of the center of my chest. The skin on my right breast looked a little red, too. Then it seemed to look normal later so I decided that maybe I had just squished it while sleeping. LOL I didn't bring it up when I got my treatment yesterday because I knew I'd be seeing the doctor today. Plus, I knew it was just the beginning of my body reacting to the treatments. Anyway, I showed it to her today and she agreed that it was the start. She sent me home with some tubes of an ointment to use on the red spots. I'll just use more of it when more areas get red. She told me the redness on my chest is typical and that a lot of women get a rash there.

So I'm starting to react to the treatments. I was really hoping it wouldn't start until the fourth week so that it would be less likely to have time to get particularly uncomfortable. Right now it doesn't really hurt, though my chest does itch a little sometimes, which is how I noticed it in the first place over the weekend. Amusingly, my boob feels kinda hot sometimes, especially after treatment. This is such a strange thing. It's really weird to have one breast feel like it's running a fever while everything else feels normal. Like I said, it isn't painful, yet, so that's a huge plus.

I don't know if I mentioned this before, but along with the skin reaction/rash and the fatigue that comes with radiation treatment, there is also a list of things NOT to do. One is not to use any lotion or perfume on the area being treated. That's not so difficult. But I also can't use deodorant under the arm on the side of the breast being treated. This is just annoying! To be precise, I am allowed to use unscented aerosol spray, which isn't actually a deodorant, but an antiperspirant. On the day I went looking for it, which I was advised could be found at a pharmacy, Mark and I were at Wal-Mart and I decided to look there. No such luck in the women's section. But Mark found a can in the men's. So I now hose my right armpit down with men's aerosol antiperspirant every day. It's a sport formula. Yeah, like I need that. I contemplated looking for something made for a woman, but I was too tired that day to bother going anywhere else once Mark found this one. So it's what I'm using. I don't like it. I miss my Secret! (Strong enough for a man, but made for a woman!) LOL I am grateful, however, that this isn't all taking place in the height of summer. It should all be over and I should be free to return to my regular stuff long before that sets in. Thank You, Lord!

There are just so many things that go along with this whole journey. Like the chemo and radiation, some of them are too insane to even bother trying to make too much sense of. Oh, I understand how the chemo and radiation work. I did plenty of research into both of them. When you get right down to it, they do make sense. But there's still something way beyond ironic about pumping yourself full of poison and bombarding yourself with radiation in an effort to kill off mutant cells that can, in turn, be triggered by the very things you're trying to kill them with. And then there's the joy of being bald. Honestly, I didn't mind the baldness near as much as this process of watching my hair grow back. It's just ugly right now. It points in all kinds of crazy directions. The short stuff over my ears never wants to just lay down, it prefers to poke out over the tops of my ears, making me look like some little old man with ear "tufts." And I swear I have even fewer eyelashes and eye brows now than I did when I finished chemo! Let's not even talk about the other places where I don't have any hair. Yet, somehow, there is still hair growing on the fronts of my legs. What is THAT all about?!

The list of absurdities associated with cancer treatment just goes on and on. I choose to laugh at pretty much all of it. What's the point in being upset? It won't change a thing, except to make me and anyone around me miserable. I've seen cancer patients who were very bitter and angry. I don't understand the point of that. It sure doesn't help them any. Besides which, I know God's ultimately in control of it all. It'll work out however He thinks best. Whatever comes, I'll go along with that knowledge and cross each new bridge when I come to it, all the while knowing He's right there with me each and every step of the way.

I just thought of something. You know how they refer to radioactive items as being "hot?" Well I've got a hot boob! Maybe it's radioactive! (I'm tired. You'll have to overlook the goofiness of my sense of humor. Mark sometimes just smiles and nods his head and I know he isn't laughing with me at those times!)

Okay, I'm done, at least for now. I'm off to the kitchen to find something to snack on. Though I doubt anyone needs a reminder, please keep the people of Japan in your prayers. I cannot even imagine the scope of the devastation they are facing right now. And the nuclear situation on top of what's already happened isn't making it any easier for them. And pray for all those who are there to help search for survivors and victims, too. They've come from all over the world to help and what they're doing is no easy task. Then hug your spouses and kids and any other family and friends you can get your hands on and take a minute to thank God for all the blessings in your life. You know there are lots of them that we all take for granted every day.

Hilarity as Therapy...

My therapist says my sense of humor is a big part of what helps me get through the stress of having cancer. (Not to leave God out here, because we both also recognize and acknowledge that He is my ultimate Resource.) But laughter certainly helps to overcome the occasionally uncomfortable, unpleasant, and/or outright sickening aspects of reality. I have learned that a good sense of humor is a definite bonus in life. (Jeanne Robertson makes a living spreading this notion. Lord bless you if you don't know who she is. Here's a bit of one of her routines. Click her name above if you want to visit her site.)


Humor as a coping mechanism is nothing but common sense to me. Let's face it, when something that is utterly beyond your control happens, no matter how unpleasant, humiliating, or even frightening, you have two choices in how to deal with it. One) you can work yourself up into a lather, get mad and/or frustrated, and act like an out of control basketcase, or; Two) you can accept the fact that you can't change the situation with as much grace and humor as you can muster. Okay, I don't do grace particularly well. Not in any classic sense of the word, at least. But I can do the humor. I mean, what's the point in driving yourself nuts over something you have no control over? I have cancer. It is sometimes painful, sometimes disgusting, sometimes frightening, but it is almost always absurd as well. In so many ways, it is a surreal experience that just begs to be laughed at. From the chemo brain that of late makes even basic math a chore, (24/3 anyone? Yeah, I had to think about that for a few minutes the other day. *head shakes*) to the utter insanity of the treatment for cancer (which might kill me) being repeated infusions of outright poison (which also might kill me). Yeah, that makes all kinds of logical sense. LOL (I really do laugh when I think about it.)

So I have cancer. Some days it really stinks. Some days I hurt a lot and I won't pretend that I enjoy that or that I don't occasionally get frustrated or just plain sick and tired of being sick and tired. But all in all, even on the days when I feel the worst, I still try to find some humor somewhere. Which is why I absolutely get giddy when I come across something on the internet that I can laugh at. Hence my posts of amusing LOLs from the I Can Haz Cheezburger site on my Facebook page. I'd post some examples, but seriously, there are just too many that make me laugh til I cry to even begin to attempt to pick favorites. Wait, no, I just thought of one from way back that makes me start snickering just thinking about it.

Yeah, I might be the weirdo in my family. LOL

Anyway, I use Google Reader to keep track of my miscellaneous feeds and blogs. Not that I use it all that much on my laptop because I have the Reeder app on my iPad and that's where I do most of my reading. I got on the laptop earlier today, though, to do a little housecleaning on Reader. I'm an organizing freak when it comes to my computer. I have a file folder for everything under the sun, and usually folders within folders just so I can keep everything neatly organized. (As a quick aside, thank you Steve Jobs for finally getting around to getting IOS 4 onto the iPad. Yes, the ability to multitask and to collect my apps into folders makes it an even more awesome toy than before. Just wish you'd given it those abilities out of the box. End of rant.) So I was on Google Reader on my laptop, putting a couple of new feeds into folders when I decided to click on that "Suggestions" link to see just what Google thought I would be interested in. Most of it was junk. In fact, I outright ignored everything I saw until I spotted something called Cake Wrecks. This piqued my interest and then I read the tag line: "When professional cakes go horribly, hilariously wrong." This I had to see.

I have a love/hate relationship with the growing idiocy of humanity. Love because it's hard not to laugh out loud at some of the things I see/hear others write/say with complete seriousness. Hate because I honestly cannot imagine why so many find it so difficult to distinguish the difference between your/you're; their/there/they're; singular and plural; etc. Ex: Mark and I went to the store late the other night. Late because it was Black Friday and neither of us had any interest in braving the crowds. Plus, crowds are flat out dangerous for me these days. Anyway, we were at Wal-Mart wandering down the candy isle. Mark had a sweet tooth. So he's browsing the M & M's when I suddenly catch what a woman right beside us is saying. I'm going to do my best to convey this as it was said. Spelling phonetically may not be my strong suit, though, so bear with me. She was with a young man that I would soon realize was her son. She said, "I'm looking for marshmallow cherry cordials." Only she didn't say "\ˈkȯr-jəl\" she said it more like "\kȯr-dī-ˈȯl\." That's a long "i" sound in the middle followed by a third syllable pronounced something like "all." So, okay, I can understand that some people might not necessarily know how to pronounce cordial, especially as it's one of those words that is not pronounced phonetically. (Never mind that I was also wondering at this point exactly what a marshmallow cherry cordial was. I mean, this is something I've never even heard of, nor can I imagine it. LOL) I did find myself both tempted to chuckle at this pronunciation and inwardly cringing at it at the same time. Then, her son (who was easily in his late teens) replied with, "Is they in a box?" All urge to laugh vanished at this. Is they? Really? He was certainly old enough to know better. I was glad to leave the aisle as the butchery of the English language continued. (She did find her marshmallow cherry cordials, though. Apparently they were little chocolate covered Santa things.)

So this demonstrates my love (can't help but laugh sometimes at how badly people manage to mangle the language they not only grow up speaking and reading, but also supposedly spend 12 or more years in school studying) and hate (HOW in the world can they be so illiterate after spending 12 or more years in school studying English!?!) relationship with poor spelling and/or grammar. And so, back to Cake Wrecks. This blog is run by a husband/wife team (mostly the wife) and a friend who make snarky comments about insanely horrible cake decor that they receive pics of. Many, many of the photos they post are examples of ridiculously bad spelling by cake decorators. I just have to show you this one as an example.

It says, "It a Gril." Original Blog Post

Yes, inexplicably those are bananas and strawberries ringing the top of the cake. And check out that oh-so-baby-girly dirt brown color! And this is just the beginning. I admit that I don't find every post laugh until I cry worthy. Sometimes, it was the comments after the post that finally make me snort with laughter. But the wit that accompanies some of these images - as well as the images themselves - were sometimes enough to make me gasp as I tried to catch my breath from the gales of laughter.

Today, we be having's a celebiation of learnir!

The caption is by the blog writer Jen. Yeah, I know we have the same name. A similar sense of humor, too. LOL She followed this comment up with a second, "(Note: typing that last sentence was actually painful. See what I go through for you?)" Double LOL!!!

Needless to say, I have spent the past long while looking back through many of her posts and laughing my head off. It is just stunningly hilarious (as well as disturbingly sad) that so many supposed "professionals" out there appear to have no grasp of basic English. The above is just one of literally hundreds of examples of misspellings. On this same post is a photo of another cake where the decorator managed to misspell a three letter word. It was supposed to be, "You Did It!" It came out, "You Dit It!" I had to stare at that one in awe for a few seconds. Seriously? They couldn't spell "did?" Like Jen, I found it was making my head ache just a bit. Still, like so much else in life, I figure I might as well laugh at it. Because I cannot change the ignorance of these people. Somehow, they managed to make it all the way through high school without gaining a basic understanding of the English language. We all make mistakes. My grammar is hardly perfect. And anyone can misspell a word. But I'd like to think that if it was my job to make a product for someone else that I'd at least break out a dictionary to make sure I had the words right. Is that so hard? Or do they just not realize how atrocious their spelling/grammar is? Can you say, UNPROFESSIONAL? I hope I mentioned that. Jen only posts cakes that have been done by professionals. IE, a customer somewhere actually paid them money to do it.

It is tragic how this lack of even the most basic grasp of our language is becoming increasingly commonplace. Then again, I know for a fact that at least some of our schools are promoting children to the next grade when they've clearly failed at least part of the previous one. So maybe it isn't the illiterate kids that are the dumb ones, here. Anyway, Jen's blog made me laugh out loud more than once. And just as an FYI, she doesn't only post pics of cakes gone horribly wrong. Once a week she posts what she calls "sweets." Pics of things that are nothing less that pure works of art. Let me find one as an example.

I am in awe of how much the fondant looks like fabric.

The detail here is just plain amazing.

Hours of piping this by hand. I can't even imagine!

All of these flowers are hand made from gum paste. Meaning they are edible. As is the beautiful pink bow. And just LOOK at the insane detail of that cross hatch! And the lace!

I love orchids.

Okay, so I couldn't stop at just one. These cakes are beyond incredible. This is edible artwork. The time, thought, planning and precision that goes into something like this is just amazing. I can't even begin to imagine how someone makes all these flowers!

Anyway, just thought I'd share a few laughs and some Ooh's and Ahh's as well. Learn to laugh at what you can't change. It'll make you - and everyone around you - a lot happier!

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That Still Small Voice...

First off, I meant to get this written and posted last night, but I was just too exhausted to do it. The steroids I had to start taking day before yesterday just would not let me sleep at all Tuesday night, so I was worn out. Anyway, it's a day later than I wanted, but at least it's here.

I had to go to the hospital early yesterday morning to have a scan done of my heart to make sure none of the chemo I've had so far has caused any damage. The next 2 chemos I'm taking are Taxotere and Herceptin. The Herceptin will be a year long event. The Taxotere will consist of 4 courses, taken every 3 weeks. I began the first course yesterday along with the first course of the Herceptin. I'll get it every week while I'm getting the Taxotere, then once that is fiinshed, the Herceptin schedule will move out to every 3 weeks as well.

Mark and I were worried about what to expect with these new meds. We'd gotten used to the side effects of the Adriamycin and Cytoxin, but new meds means new side effects. What worked or didn't work before is all out the window. I'm happy to say that so far, I'm not really having any obvious issues. No nausea at all, praise the Lord! (I was a little worried about it because this time around I wasn't taking one of the nausea meds I took for the A/C.) The Herceptin can cause flu-like symptoms, including fever and body aches, so they gave me Tylenol and Benedryl before they started the infusion. I did not notice anything yesterday, besides the Benedryl making me tired. This morning I woke up with just a tiny bit of joint aching that may or may not have anything to do with the Herceptin. I just took some Tylenol to be safe.

I was so exhausted yesterday that I slept pretty good last night. I woke up too soon, and just had to take another dose of the steroids, so I don't know if I'll get to go back to sleep at some point. If the Decadron kicks in, sleep probably won't happen. Today's the last day I have to take it, though, so that's good news.

Okay, update done. Now I want to talk about how God talked with me yesterday morning. I have devotions I read, several in fact. I try to keep up on reading my Bible, too, though I confess I don't get it done every single day. God knows I regret that and Lord willing, He'll help me be more diligent in that respect. There's a song I know that talks about our tendency to overlook God. About how we could and should pray more, read our Bibles more, etc. But the chorus of the song says, "Sometimes I overlook Him, but He still looks over me." How very true that is. Even when I let life get in my way and I start slacking on my devotion time with God, I know He is still here, patiently waiting for me to remember Him and turn to Him. I'm forever grateful for His great mercy and love and the undeserved patience He shows me when I get just a little too self-centered to keep all my focus on Him.

So, one of the ways I often find that God likes to chat with me is through music. I've loved music, in most all forms, for as long as I can remember. Sometimes it's the music itself, but just as often it's the amazing, powerful, and beautiful lyrics God has gifted so many out there with the talent to write. Honestly, I guess I'd say I would be hard pressed to pick one single artist or group that I could call my absolute favorite. Mostly because I'm pretty eclectic and depending on my mood, I listen to a lot of different styles of music. I've heard some say that there's no such thing as "Contemporary" Christian, or "Country" Christian, or Christian "Rock", etc. I would respectfully beg to differ. I have listened to it all most of my life and I like some of all of it. I own some of all of it, well, not so much the Christian Rock because I just sort of outgrew that as I got older. I lean toward Southern Gospel, Christian Country, and some Contemporary Christian for the most part. (Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of secular music as well, through I don't listen to it nearly as much as I used to. I still love it, from the Eagles, to some Opera, to Classical, to Garth Brooks, to Broadway. PHANTOM OF THE OPERA, I'm talkin' about you! LOL) Like I said, I love music in most all of it's forms. Got that from my parents. They were both musically inclined and could sing. My mother played the piano by ear. Boy do I wish I'd inherited that particular talent. Anyway, music comes in all forms and styles. And nowhere does it say that the only true Christian music is old Bluegrass or songs out of the Hymnals. (Both of which I also happen to like.) Specifically, the Bible mentions "Speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord;" Eph 5:19, and "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom; teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord. And whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by him." Col 3:16-17

Just my opinion, but any song with a strong Christian message, whatever "style" it happens to be in, is a "spiritual song." And if the artist is doing it "in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by him," then that's even better. And even having said all this, I can think of more than one beloved and popular Christian song written by artists that do not necessarily live what anyone would call a Christian lifestyle. Kris Kristofferson's "One Day at a Time, Sweet Jesus" comes to mind. And how about "I Saw the Light" by Hank Williams? There are plenty of examples in the Bible of God using unsaved/unbelieving and sometimes downright evil individuals to forward His plans and purposes and message. Sometimes, God gives inspiration to those we least expect and the result is something beautiful that can uplift and encourage us in spite of its origins. Sadly, I can also think of former Christian artists who have written some incredibly powerful music that somehow got lost along their journey and now are so terribly backslidden that it is heartbreaking. The one that comes to my mind - because I have loved his music for years and have sung many, many of his songs because they are so incredibly powerful - is Ray Boltz. He wrote, "The Anchor Holds," "I Pledge Allegiance to the Lamb," "At the Foot of the Cross," and so very many others. Yet, a few years ago he suddenly announced that he was, and always had been, gay. He had a wife and children that he turned his back on to embrace his new "lifestyle." I find it amazing that he still claims to be a Christian and to write what he calls Christian music. He made a choice to put a lifestyle he wanted to live before God, and that's tragic, especially when it is so obvious that God had given him a profound talent. He is not the only Christian artist to do this, either. But my point is, just because he has lost his way does not change the fact that God gave him the inspiration to write songs with wonderful messages. I still love those songs he wrote, and I still sing them. Some may disagree with that choice, but I simply cannot make myself ignore the message of a song just because I know who it came from. God speaks how and when and through whomever He chooses. Even if that person is someone most "good" Christians would have no respect for.

Wow, got a little off the topic I originally wanted to discuss, here. Suffice it to say, I find music a powerful thing. God speaks to me through it all the time. I get in the car and my iPod is hooked up to my radio so I can pick and choose between all the music I own, as well as more than a few audio devotions, if the mood strikes. Usually, I go for the music because I just love to sing along. Anyway, yesterday morning when I got in the car I was really tired from the lack of sleep and I wanted something I knew really well so I could sing along without having to try to remember the words. I chose "Selah," a group that I suppose is considered Contemporary Christian, though they have released an entire album of Hymns. They began as a brother and sister both raised in Africa by their missionary parents and grand parents. They joined up with a college friend and started a group that specializes in absolutely magnificent harmonies and simple, powerful music with unmistakably profound messages. I adore them. I love the harmonies for certain, but more than that, I am amazed at the songs they have written themselves. So much power and obvious love of God.

One of the first songs that came on was "Unredeemed." This song never fails to touch me, but yesterday it seemed to be even more profound to me. The line that gets me every single time is "When anything that's shattered is laid before the Lord, just watch and see, it will not be unredeemed." What we give to God, however dark or painful or utterly broken, He can and will heal and fix. We just have to take that first step of letting Him have control. Here is a beautiful You Tube video someone put together of the song including the lyrics.

Soon after "Unredeemed" came "I Will Carry You (Audrey's Song)." This song was based upon a poem written by Angie Smith, wife of Todd Smith, one of the founding members of Selah. Back in January 2008, they learned that their fourth daughter, Audrey Caroline, was terribly ill. She was still in Angie's womb at the time and there was no doubt that Audrey would not survive. Angie started a blog to chronicle the events that would follow that fateful day that her 20 week ultrasound revealed the terrible news. The story is both heartbreaking and one of the most uplifting that I have every known. I have never lost a child. I cannot even conceive of the grief and agony of such a thing. But Angie, Todd, and Audrey's story is so incredible. How they dealt with what they knew was coming. How they chose to trust God, to let the tragedy draw them nearer to Him. Read the blog if you want to know the full depth of the miracle they experienced.Bring the Rain - Angie Smith's blog, the beginning of the story 

No, Audrey was not miraculously healed. But her parents and family were given a magnificent gift that defied all the expectations and predictions of the doctors. Audrey did not die immediately after birth. She lived for just over two hours, during which time her parents and sisters and grandparents and other family and close friends got to hold her and bathe her and love her and take many photos of this precious baby girl. That time was a pure miracle. Audrey, with her host of health issues, should not have been able to survive outside her mother's womb. Yet she did. For 2 hours, God gave her the breath and life to carry on. This video of her song was posted by Angie herself and includes photos of her, her husband Todd, and their other 3 daughters, as well as many of the photos taken of Audrey after her birth. The words of the song are as powerful as any I have ever heard. Angie's trust in God just shines through the words she wrote. It is the second chorus that brings me chills, because though the words do not change, the meaning does. The first time it's said, it is from Angie's perspective of how she will always carry her daughter with her. The second time is God Himself, promising to do the same for us. He will carry us all our lives. Gives me chills every single time I hear it. Here's the video with the lyrics posted beneath.

There were photographs I wanted to take, Things I wanted to show you
Sing sweet lullabies, wipe your teary eyes, Who could love you like this?

People say that I am brave but I'm not, Truth is I'm barely hanging on
But there's a greater story, Written long before me, Because He loves you like this

So I will carry you While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle Through the coming years
I will carry you All my life And I will praise the One Who's chosen me To carry you

Such a short time, Such a long road, All this madness But I know
That the silence, Has brought me to His voice, And He says...

I've shown her photographs of time beginning, Walked her through the parted seas
Angel lullabies, no more teary eyes, Who could love her like this?

I will carry you, While your heart beats here,
Long beyond the empty cradle, Through the coming years
I will carry you, All your life, And I will praise the One Who's chosen Me To carry you

I suppose this song, which always brings tears to my eyes, felt even more profound yesterday because Mark had mentioned to me something he'd seen on the tv in the break room at work. It was a story about some man who'd been raised in a strict Christian home. His parents took in a foster child who wound up violently raping this boy when he was around 5, I think Mark said. Anyway, this horrific event caused this boy to decide that any God who would allow him to be so terribly hurt either was evil or uncaring or just plain didn't exist to begin with. He turned his back on God and became a violent man himself. He'd killed someone by beating them to death with a baseball bat.

I cannot begin to list the number of people, both who claim no belief in God and those who do claim to be Christians, who I have heard voice questions about how and/or why God would allow terrible things to happen. There was a lot of that kind of thing going around after 9/11. How can a supposedly loving God simply stand by and watch such terrible things happen? How can He justify letting a defenseless child suffer unspeakable abuses? How can he put someone like Angie and Todd Smith, who have devoted their lives to Him, through the agony of losing a precious child?

The pat answer is that God sees, understands, and knows things that we cannot fathom. He is in charge and we ought to just trust Him in all things. That doesn't help with the pain, though. Not really. Even though it's true, it may not bring any real comfort to someone in the midst of terrible suffering. So, what's the real answer? The answer is us. WE are the ones responsible. God created a perfect world. No pain. No suffering. No sickness. No sorrow. No death. Just a perfect world where His creations could freely and personally interact with Him. It was Adam and Eve who chose to upset that perfection. God warned them that eating from the tree of Knowledge of Good AND Evil would bring death. And it certainly did. But it brought so much more. Pain and suffering, evil and agony. They unleashed every terrible thing upon the world, destroyed God's perfect creation, and the entire world has suffered in countless ways because of it. Their disobedience cursed every single person born since that time. You, me, all of us. It caused the earth itself to be cursed. Every natural disaster that claims countless lives can be blamed on that one moment of weakness. The "circle of life" that we all witness on nature shows did not exist until the fall. Every one of us, whether we want to see it or believe it or not, bears the stain of that first sin. We are guilty because Adam himself was guilty. The evil in this world is not God's fault. It is the fault of those who perpetrate it. It is the result of a fallen, broken world. God is not evil. He is not capable of being evil. He is perfect in all ways and this often results in us, with our tiny, fallen minds being unable to grasp how He could just sit by and let bad things happen. But we make judgments based upon our own limited - and incomplete - understanding. We color everything with our own personal feelings. We use our highly fallible logic and ethics and moral understanding to try to rationalize with the One who created the entire universe. How arrogant we are!

God is our Creator. He loves us. He sacrificed Himself for us. He is patient beyond measure with us as we struggle and often outright insult Him with the choices we make and life we live. We cannot grasp the depth of His knowledge, wisdom, love, and perfect justice. Which is why, when our very human minds and hearts start urging us to question His motives or actions (or lack thereof) we must take a step back and remember that faith is the thing that can carry us through whatever we are facing. Questions or fears or utter devastation can be dealt with and endured simply by trusting that God is, in fact, in control. More importantly, He is aware of all things, past, present, and future. He can see far ahead, beyond the end of our crisis. He knows who our faith might touch, who might be brought to Him because of the life we choose to live. And He knows who might be driven away from Him as well, if we choose to surrender to our doubts and fears. We are so shortsighted. So self-centered. Even at our best, we cannot come close to God's perfection. So we must turn to Him. let Him guide and lead us, and we must trust Him, even when we don't understand the why of a situation.

I have leaned this lesson over most of my lifetime. I admit I've done plenty of questioning God. I've had moments when I quite literally screamed at the heavens in frustration and pain. I still have those tendencies sometimes. But I know, in my heart of hearts, that God's plan is perfect. Whatever comes, whatever happens, He is in complete control and will do what is best for a future I cannot begin to see or comprehend. I still feel fear. I'm human. I still feel pain. I miss my parents and sister and Mark's mother each and every single day. Especially now, as I go through this battle with cancer. I wish they were here. I wish my precious mother could be here to hold my hand and comfort me. I wish my sister could be here to share her experiences with her cancer. I wish Vannie could be here to just be herself, to be my friend and offer her support and love in her sweet way. I feel their loss keenly. But I know God has a plan and I am grateful for the others in my life who are still here with me. My other sister, Debi, who just sent me a sweet card of encouragement. My friends who make me food and cancer hats and just offer me love and laughter and support as I go along. And my precious husband, Mark, who is my rock and my best friend and stunningly patient with me. God has given me great and profound gifts and I cannot help but be thankful for them all.

I hope we can all learn to be grateful even in the midst of a crisis. I hope we can see the blessings through the tears. I hope I never get to a place where I find myself able to justify turning my back on God. And I hope none of my dear loved ones ever get to that place, either. I am just so grateful to God for continuing to speak to me even when I'm not trying to listen. I'm glad that He does not turn His back on me, or withdraw His hand even if I sometimes deserve it. I'm grateful that I can turn on a radio and hear Him speak to me through a song, and that He can use something so simple to pull me back into the center of His will. And I'm thankful that I have a chance to share what He's taught me with others. I'm no evangelist. But I never want anyone I meet to walk away without knowing that I love and trust God. Who knows when something that simple might be the catalyst to cause a complete stranger to turn to Him? God please give me the strength to maintain my faith in You, whatever comes my way.