Gloom, despair and agony on me....

If you have read more than one of my posts you know I wear my feelings on my sleeve. I doubt they are always easily understood by others but they are there never the less. (Is nevertheless one word?) Anyway,......

On the week before Christmas, we thought we were going to move slowly and purposefully toward the big family gathering set for Christmas eve. I had planned ahead for the dinner because I knew I would still be recovering from the surgery we had started calling "having my tires rotated", so besides preparing for dinner, the Internet was my shopping center. I just had to wait for the presents to be delivered to our door and hubby would wrap all but one: his from me. So for that gift I went the extra mile and had Amazon wrap it. With a personal card!!!(Don't Judge me!) Worth every penny. My gift from hubby came the same day, he hid it in the guest house. We always decide to get something big for each other that we both like and call it our only gift(the turkey smoker). It's not always big in size or $$, just big because it is for both of us. Then, even tho' it happens every year, he surprises me with something else, and I do the same. This year I realized I needed  to use his surprise gift for dinner Christmas eve and since we don't usually open our gifts until Christmas morning, I had to put on my begging shoes and give up the surprise. So I told him, "Honey I got you a coffee bean grinder, and I need you to open it so we can use it on Christmas eve" ... big smile, batting eyes, and the obligatory southern belle "please?".

Honestly, wouldn't you think that would mean I got to open my surprise? Sheesh.

Anyway, things were going fairly well with my recovery: I couldn't drive, couldn't lift anything, needed help getting dressed, and with other little details of day to day living, but I felt great for the most part. Then hubby started not feeling well. Through a series of fortunate events, a day of Dr visits kept me away from home, with him, and away from the pain meds. Good thing because we had to return to Longview from Castle Rock to take hubby to ER, and I had to drive. Good thing I was off the pills long enough to drive.

We were in a situation that was either going to mean an emergency surgery that was dangerous due to poor vitals, or everything was going to be OK after having some IV antibiotics. These were our choices. Terrifying or no big deal. We are hospital professionals because of my cancer history, my daughter had a terrible infection when she was 10 months old and severe anemia during her early teens, my son spent several post football game hours in the ER and when he was younger they began to know his name at the main desk,I started to count the stitches but gave up when I lost count. I never had to leave any of my family in the hospital over night. We have been there over night waiting, but I never walked out of  the hospital leaving them to stay in an unfamiliar room, saying goodbye and letting go of their hand. I was always the one in the bed.

Roland finally saw the surgeon and she eliminated the dangerous surgical option, but he had to stay on the IV for over 24 hours and that was gonna put him at the wrong time to come home the next day so we knew we were looking at at least two nights in the hospital. Under normal circumstances ( whatever that means) I would have called my daughter and stayed at the hospital, but by now I was definitely feeling the need to pay attention to my own recovery. Pain and fatigue + sleeping in a chair = TROUBLE. But as I said goodbye I was overwhelmed by the pain of deep love. Yes, I said the pain of deep love. I didn't want to leave. We tried to convince ourselves I could stay but ultimately this wisdom won out: I have to take care of myself because he could not, whereas he would be taken care of there, and I could not at home.

So at home, alone, I began to realize how amazing love is, how I didn't want to leave the bedside of the guy who spills little drops of coffee by the coffeemaker EVERY SINGLE DAY, the guy who does a million little things that drive me crazy, I didn't want to be away. How wonderful to feel love so strongly it hurts. I cried and am crying now remembering it.

I had been given a candle that makes a crackling noise like a fire as a housewarming gift just a few weeks prior. I thought if I could have the candlelight and that noise maybe it would feel like he was home and had built a fire for me like he has so many times before. (I was actually purchasing another candle like that one when he came in the store to tell me I had to drive him back to the ER.) It was comforting.

The brand is WoodWick just in case you want one. Not the cure for loneliness but it is a comforting sound.

He stayed two nights and they let him come home. Then on Christmas eve morning he ended up back in the ER this time with my son driving because I had taken meds and couldn't drive, I smoked a turkey - alone, none of my plans for dinner turned out exactly how I planned them (maybe one day I'll tell how there was an unplanned fire - which had nothing to do with smoking the turkey), since Roland was not working he changed the time to three hours earlier than I had figured for a UPS family Christmas eve. And as badly as I want to blame him for my overwhelmnity I can't. There were offers to help - but I don't know how to delegate help - I gotta just have people take over. I am gonna work on that tho', because I have excellent helpers.  I mean top notch helpers! These people are like the guys who change the tires on the race cars, help me out NASCAR friends - are those guys called the pit crew? Anyway these people are that good. Delegating to them has got to become one of my skills as long as they allow me to host our gatherings.  AND I LOVE HOSTING OUR GATHERINGS.


So I titled this with a line from an old HEE-HAW song, and if you are too young to have seen it, or too old to remember it I would not be surprised if there are clips on YouTube.

In closing, I guess I want to share that just as loving deeply can cause pain when we are confronted with loss, possible loss or even little frustrations, we can rejoice that we have known great love. Not unlike that old HEE-HAW song about gloom, despair and agony can make us laugh. During the Holidays I was able to share this with my in laws who are very much my family after almost 30yrs. Hopefully, they are not disappointed to be stuck with me, BECAUSE THEY ARE...BWAHAHAHAHA!

Thanks for reading, Geri

NOTE: Health issues are resolving and we will be making some health related changes around here so that we increase our chances of not having to leave one or the other over night in a hospital. May this post encourage you and your great love to do the same.

Sweet Selfishness - or - Christmas just isnt the same anymore

I am far from being the selfless non-materialistic person I would like to be, or even would like to SAY I have become one day.


I do prefer being the giver of the perfect gift, whether it is perfect in timing or in and of itself, than to be the reciever of such a gift. But theres the rub, it isnt sacraficial giving most of the time because I get such a return emotionally from giving. Emphasize most of the time.


I enjoy recieving, yes, yes, I do. I enjoy wrapping papers and ribbons and bows, gift bags and wondering whats nside then finding something wonderful inside. I enjoy recieving cards, and flowers, and boxes from the postal carrier, Fed-Ex and UPS. I am old school if you really want to give me a treat send a handwritten letter to me snail mail. Not everyone feels this way and thats ok. (to my children who are now afraid that all they will recieve at Christmas is a handwritten letter snail mail, relax, but you on the other hand might want to keep this in mind).


When we were children, we anticipated Christmas morning with the anticipation of a child on Christmas morning.....Redundant? No, it's just that there is nothing to compare it to except itself.  For all our lives anticipation will be compared to how we felt waiting for Christmas. As the years pass the anticipation does also. What seemed like endless days between Christmases turns into a blink of an eye between Christmases, so much so when we look at Christmas photos we might have to count children to see what year it was. For example, that was "before Carol was born"..or that's "the year John came home on leave".

The return to the true meaning of the Holiday is kind of a weird journey. You cant KNOW that Jesus was actually born on December 25th, and then the idea of the evergreen tree brought into the house and decorated with glass and shiny things or even food - well I can not even as a devout Christian tell you the true meaning of this holiday in it's current state. I know there are many ideas about it and most of what I do is done because it's just plain how it was done when I was a kid. And I gotta tell ya, I like it!

Then you can also add the journey of 400 years waiting for messiah. Waiting for redeemer, waiting for the lamb of God, waiting for the Christ, "the hopes and fears of all the years, are met in thee tonight". Oh come o come Emmanuel.

So for me the journey to finding the anticipation of a child again has to do with being a grown up. Yup, I am weird. Becoming a giver IS the circle of life. You are concieved and are nurtured by your mothers being, then born and most likely are nurtured by her for some months more and your other needs are taken care of as well. yes I think we can all agree a baby is dependant on recieving. Not to say their caregiviers don't recieve from their servitude. And someday when that child is grown and becomes a parent, they will also find they get something from giving. Here is the thing: grown ups get something out of giving.

Finding the anticipation of a child at Christmas is the journey to becoming a giver.

It is the sweetest selfishness I can imagine: giving because you know how good it makes you feel. It is a grand hobby this. Focus on the joy you can give to others and Joy comes to you. I'll repeat that because if I were preaching in an amen-ing church  instead of blogging I would repeat it - JOY COMES TO YOU!

So give. Find something worthy and give. Find someone unworthy and give. You're gonna feel great!

God bless you, in your giving, Geri

A Girl Needs Shoes

Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Ephesians 6 (KJV)

I was thinking about shoes today. No coincidence that I also saw the podiatrist. I have a few foot issues he is trying to help me with, today I used the breathing technique taught to me by the crazy surgeon who did an emergency biopsy on my breast without numbing me first, in her office with a nurse holding my breast like I was a cow getting a brand. (all I know about that I learned from John Wayne movies and Bonanza) Count to ten then backwards to one - over and over until you are through. The Dr was giving me a cortisone shot in the heel. UGH!

So I was thinking about how I walk different depending on the shoes I wear. Or don't wear. Then I was thinking about the God's armour verses, which brought me to here.

When I get dressed I put on my shoes last. Most of the time if I have shoes on, I am dressed. Yup hardly ever in the birthday suit with shoes on. I have gotten the mail in a robe, birthday suit, and Roland's romeos, but we have a delightful mail WOMAN. And she has been our mail lady through all my chemo and the rest of the falderall being bald and all. Anyway, for me shoes are last.

The helmet of salvation is on as long as Jesus is in my heart. And the loin girting is only in truth - to girt or not to girt is a question asked and answered prior to putting on the helmet. If you dont believe the Bible is truth you won't have the sheild of faith or the helmet of salvation, see where I am going with this? The breast plate of righteousness, well that was tested and approved by covering it in Jesus' precious blood. His blood will never lose it's power.

The nest verse is putting on the shoes so I will skip over that one just for the sake of my podiatry analogy, and because I put my shoes on last.

The sheild of faith is needed prior to any of the armour."He that comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him” Hebrew 11:6. So in order to have any of the armour you must first have the shield of faith.

Which brings me to the shoes. Different shoes make us walk differently. I am not a stilletto girl - mainly since I cant see my feet so well at this weight. But I have worn high heels in my day and I know you walk differently in those than in penny loafers. (Kudos to the women who can wear them and walk in them you do look very . . . feminine.) So My point is, no matter where you go, how you walk, you take that helmet, girt-er thing, breast plate, sheild of faith and the ever important sword of the spirit which is God's word.  And I believe If you hide his word in your heart, believe on Jesus that all the armour is portable. PORTABLE.

BUT, all the armour can be intimidating, harsh and dangerous without the shoes of the gospel of PEACE.  Oh have I learned this the hard way. All of the armour can appear to be mere religion if you come after others without the gospel of PEACE.

GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST, PEACE ON EARTH & GOODWILL TO ALL MEN!

Thanks for reading, Geri

Celebrate The Small Stuff

Just an update on how the weight loss is going, since we are entering the holidays.

I hit -35lbs this week. I know I have a few more to go, you know I have a few more to go, so I am not gonna make the amount lost the big thing to celebrate, I will save the big celebration for when I hit the healthy number that gets me off of the high risk for cancer list.

Something else I know is that I have to grant myself little celebrations along the way, I think everyone needs hugs, and "attaboy"s, pats on the back and "you go girl"s. I think I may have gotten a bit addicted to all those cheers, well, because they kept me alive. Let me explain:

During my first battle the diagnosis was the most grim. The chemo was the most grueling, and my support system was the most afraid. In January of 2001, the protocol of care for stage 3b Inflammatory Breast Cancer (IBC) was chemo, followed by a mastectomy, followed by more chemo, and finally radiation. After my mastectomy there was a break in treatment to allow my body to recover before assaulting it again with the chemo. At that time my hair was begining to grow back. It had been 4 months since my last chemo and my hair was growing. I began thinking about losing it all again. I started to consider quitting. About just letting my Faith stand - about believing that I was cancer free - and get back to life. It was at that point a therapist clarified to me what I had told him in the begining of treatment "I want my kids to see me fight-win or lose". It reminded me that the well spoken "cheer" at the just the right moment can keep you going when stopping could have epic consequences.

During the second battle the shock of a reoccurence and the probability of my demise, brought out the best of the cheerleaders. Oh my goodness, the staff at the cancer center was so attentive and caring. The gentleness of those serving me was beautiful. After every surgery getting a card from the staff wishing me healthy recovery and half joking that they hoped they would never see me as a patient again. I had awesome cheerleaders. Which is not to take away from the power of prayer - God was the best cheerleader of all.

So now I face this old battle, and when you are 3x-4x it takes alot of pounds lost in order for the loss to show. I have seen changes. But I am looking for them. In fact even if the scale hasnt changed I see changes possibly just because I have a good outlook one day. The fact may be that the only thing changed was my outlook that day. I can psych myself out sometimes with that kinda stuff. Escpecially if no one else notices.

Anyway, back to celebrating the little things. As I said before I hit the -35lbs mark this week. So what? Well do you know what last thursday was? The biggest day of the year for us overeaters. WE BLEND! Yesiree Bob! We can eat and eat and keep up with all y'all! And even tho' we might still eat more than you but,  it goes without the same humiliation as the other big get togethers - because "everyone is endulging". But, this year, this year I had a plan. I have no certain types of food that are off limits, but I do have choices: good choices & bad choices. Yes, we had enough food for an army and I had seconds of some of it - and it was delicious! Thanks Mom and Carol!

One cheerleader shared with me and other FB friends that thanksgiving was a day NOT a season, and although we eat to celebrate God's blessing us and give thanks, it is just one day. That simple cheer, and my new found dislike for the feeling of being FULL, allowed me to lose weight over the week that includes the biggest feast of the year. GO, GO GERI! GO GO, GO GERI! (sometimes you have to be your own cheerleader)

I started this blog Oct 30, so even tho' I blogged yesterday I felt I should post the update on the weight loss.

Just a few more days until my surgery so we'll see how that goes....I told my plastic surgeon that if he wanted to use me to teach interns how to do liposuction it was OK by me, and that I also have a mole above my lip...you know, since I'll be asleep anyway...

He has been so great to deal with my sense of humor. Seriously, some of the stuff that I say at his office surprises me. Some of it could probably get me put into a straight jacket. But at any rate Dr. Gabriel has been a real sport - I suppose doctors need a cheerleader now and then too. And laughter is the best cheer!

Thanks for reading, Geri

Decorate The Cross

I am weird.

SURPRISE!

I tend to think of the cross at christmas time, and at Easter think of the manger. No rule against it. The bible says , "HE IS BORN", "HE IS CRUCIFIED" and "HE IS RISEN". So as long as you know what the definition of "is" is, you should be okay with my weirdness on this subject.

I think it might be because I tend to look at my children this way. I held my son in my arms and cried thinking he might one day be a soldier, and my daughter nearly died at birth (cord around her neck twice, no pulse, no breathing, CPR) after that trauma I enjoyed sleeping when she slept; waking when she woke; but cried knowing that she was my last baby, when she grew up I would be retired as a mom. So every first was also a last.

Now I see them both doing grown up things and picture them as children. I remember the principles office after a poor choice, a parents phone call after a thrown rock.

When they have the same job for a year ( I am so proud of you punkin') - but lose a good friend, I remember the playground where children have several best friends in a year, but in high school and beyond, as a parent you get attached to these friends, they call you "mom", then they are gone. I go back to the playground, once again.

When they get married and learn to be a part of another family...then experience domestic violence and stand up to it even when the charges get dropped and it looks like the bad guys win ( I am so proud of you Judah and Brittney). I go back to the little league coach with the temper, I go back to the High School Football days of using binoculars to see if his face would tell me how bad that last hit hurt. But He's a man, walking in a man's shoes. It's not the principles office its the bosses office asking for a raise; or the lawyers office wondering if the @#$#*3 that hit his wife is gonna get what he deserves. That's when I think of the playoff game where we won the game but he was hurt by some jerk kid who twisted his leg after the tackle. (I'm over it) The team went on to win a few more games but the last game of your senior year is always either a state championship, or a loss...and young men cry either way(Especially, if you think you might have been able to help your team if some jerk kid hadn't...but wait, seriously, I am over it).

Mary, the mother of Jesus, saw a baby in a manger, and a man crucified. Did she wonder in the manger would he be tortured in his life? Jews have always been at the mercy of the society around them with only their faith to strengthen and guide them - her pregnancy was different - would her son be also? Did she stand at the cross and remember the manger - how the star shone bright but how dark the skies are now? How she nurtured GOD at her breast, but how his thirst is mocked with a vinegar filled sponge today?

Yup, I am weird. 

The Bucket (is half full) List

I am thankful for the roof above me, the floor below, the walls that surround me and every window.
I am thankful for each day beyond my dreams added to my life, or at least it seems.
I am thankful for the goals I have set and reached, and for failures that never fail to teach.
I am thankful for friends who read the newspaper and post on facebook when America is in danger.
I am thankful for jokes, and funny movies and laughter, for photos of childhood before during and after.
I am thankful for my brothers and sisters, both near and far away. For their spouses and children and for however they spend this day.
I am thankful for a mind that trusts the heart, and for a heart that is willing to learn.
I am thankful for a fireplace, love the sound and the warmth, for matches and paper and wood to burn.
I am thankful for the love of a hardworking man and for the name he gave me - and all of his family. A passle of brothers that I hardly see, are supplemented by Travis and Uncle Damey. (the kids always called him Damey but his name is Damon)
I am thankful to God for forgiveness and grace, that when i fail He hides not His face.
I am glad for the spring I am Glad for the summer, I am thankful for Fall, but sometimes Winter's a bummer. I really enjoy the look of the snow, and thank God for saftey for those who must travel, the postman, the UPS man, and the driver of the school bus - blessing them and keeping them who do it all for us.
I miss certain people who've gone to heaven already. I want to be there too whenever God is ready. I know you are there, it's all gonna be great - someday, God  willing.
Feeling thankful, feeling comfortable looking forward to eating, and a special to thanks to all who are reading!
Thanks for listening.

Stuffed or Full? Starving or hungry?

Novemeber 20, 2011 I exaggerate. I can lie like nobody's business, too. Atleast, I did before I made a decision to follow Jesus. And even then it took awhile to weed through the lies that had become woven into the fabric of my life. Sometimes someone would ask about something and I would have to explain that I had lied. And because lies are so much harder to remember than the truth, it often takes an event like that for me to remember and then make sure I have confessed to them. I am willing to guess that I havent cleared them all up yet. I know My Classmates are aware of many of my lies, so I have planned to say at one of our future reunions, "I know you know I was a liar in school so I thought I would clear those all up in the interest witnessing to the power of Jesus to change my life" I would then remove a list that would go to the floor. " I think it might be easier to confirm those things which were the truth.....My name was indeed Geri Gilstrap, and .....I was born in Texas". I once told my mom upon returning from a Billy Graham crusade at the Kingdome, that there were so many converts that they ran out of volunteer counselors, ergo my counselor was none other than BG himself. Did she believe me? I don't know for sure...but she had me share the event with the church. I look back now and think she might have thought I would be too embarassed, then admit it was a lie before I got up in front of the whole church...nope. I stood at the pulpit and told the same stinking lie to all the sweet little christians looking up at me. Did they believe me? I don't know. But if they did they shouldn't have. And if they didn't wow, what a fool I was. Actually that fool thing..pretty much true whether they believed me or not. Exaggeration is another thing. Oh I suppose it fits into a sub category of lieing, but when I do it, I just dont feel like it is the same. Some people would disagree and then if they confronted me I would have to say, "you are probably right, it is lieing". But is it more like 'making yourself BIG' to scare a bear off? or even putting emphasis on a word in order for a joke to be more funny? I think that's my favorite one. Emphasis. Whether it is the same thing or not, it can offend people. Exaggeration when you are relaying someone's shortcomings, failures or character flaws can be HILARIOUS. However, the laughter is paid for at their cost - and the price is steals from your integrity. Even when misleading someone to believe a certain thing in order to preserve their feelings - the truth will come out and then you can either admit to lieing(reccomended), or use emphasis to put a spin on it to preserve your integrity(doesn't work). For instance, using the words 'always' and 'never' are ALWAYS WRONG & NEVER RIGHT. So in an attempt to salvage your integrity after the use of those words, you resort to emphasis on percentages saying 75% or more is pretty close to always (nope), and that 3 times in 30yrs is close to never (wrong again). But you know what? If I say "The Hubby puts the seat down 25% of the time, and the other 75% of the time I fall in 50% of those times"....well you can see that doesn't have the comedic rhythm of the traditional epic toilet seat war stories which include exaggerted tales of freezing body parts which once frozen fall off, and of course near drownings. I want to tell the truth and nothing but the truth but it is so much more fun to exaggerate. So how does this pertain to my health, my walk with God, my weight loss journey and my marriage? Honesty is not the enemy of exageration 100% of the time. Grandparents know this. Children have been succesfully persuaded NOT to swallow watermelon seeds for only God knows how long, simply because someone said a watermelon would grow in their stomach if they did. Fisherman have known about and used exageration for years, sports fanatics have used emphasis to win arguments in bars since the first time the amount of time it took to build Rome came into question. And of course how long it took Rome to burn since so much of it was stone. There will always be the people who look at "truth' or factual findings, etc as the basis for all conversation, then there are those who know that sometimes facts are not consistently what motivates dreams to come true, battles to be won and last but not least, fun to be had! Which brings me to the scale in my bathroom. I know that it is off. I know that the number it says I weigh is not what the number the scale at the Doctors office will say I weigh. What I do know is that the distance between what the doctors scale said in March and what the Doctorrs scales says in November is 34lbs. Just like on my scale the difference between March and November is 34lbs. I also know that I am in the "twos" now on both those scales. I started in the "threes" on both those scales. My "emphasis" is on the successful loss of 34lbs, not on the factual numbers of the Doctors scale. I can not go to the Doctors office each time I weigh, and I do not exagerate the 34lbs by rounding up to 35, I want that victory to be real when I reach it. And to my marriage, I love my husband. There are times when I am very much in love with him. So much that it can make me cry when I miss him, or when he says something sweet and unexpected. Then there are times.....I just....wouldnt know where to hide the body...and I hate taking the garbage out. Yup, not wanting to take out the garbage has kept us together for 29years. But don't think you know me completely, I have taken it out myself. Taking out the garbage instead of him is the female equivelent of HIM bringing me flowers for no reason. You might want to write that down, girls. My walk with God. Hmmm. I have praised him for things that can be explained by natural means, I know that somewhere in my pathology file there is a document that has the words "divine intervention" scribbled on it. I know that at the worse of the two diagnoses God used a movie to confirm that He had changed the outcome of that diagnosis even tho the cancer didnt completely dissapear - making my claims of being healed an exaggeration. I know that many people thought I would not have had cancer the second time had God truly healed me the first time. Well, All I know is I am still here. I lived. So if I wasn't healed......and I lived.....WOW isn't that a miracle too? So onto the next miracle in my life...to have a pastor again. I love him. I have had such suspicion for pastors for years. And I will use facts here, some of my mistrust was attributed to some based on the failures of a few. That is a form of exaggeration...you hear things that sound familiar and build, exagerate, a back story that supports your suspicions. (A mind that can exaggerate well, will exaggerate often). I have had years of only Jesus to fill that pastor role and even now My need for a pastor is filled by Jesus, but I know God wants us to have pastors and fellowship because loners get weird. I do not take everything my Pastor says as perfect and without flaw, the grace of God in his life, and mine, covers the places where there are holes in both our finite minds. But I would rather live having something God calls me to have, and struggle with it, than to live in fear and suspicion without it. Ultimately, what I am saying is I choose to exaggerate grace based on my understanding -and that understanding is: that I do not and can not fully comprehend it's factual extent. Thanks for listening, Geri

Movie Night

One reason I love music is most songs seem to be the soundtrack for the movie of my life. I have been on walks and heard Tara's theme in my head. Why? Because I swore I would never be hungry again. Did I bow to the ground and dig up a turnip? No. Did I flirt with the stranger next to me on the trail because they had a hamburger, just hoping they would offer to share their fries? No. You are getting the Gone With the Wind references right? Because I think I may be straying from the obvious ones. For instance I can't think of Scarlet without thinking about how she would compartmentalize her problems and decide to "think about that tomorrow". Her ability to compartmentalize may be the only thing I liked about Scarlett. She and I would not have been friends. We might have been sisters, but NOT friends. Although, I may have pretended to be her friend so I could borrow that green dress, not the drapery one as impressive as it was, but the BBQ one. (And right or wrong I would have fallen for Rhett that very day and never given Ashley another thought.)
Movie friends are often flawed. Bruno Kirby and Carrie Fischer in When Harry Met Sally - I loved these guys! There is a line from Neil Diamond's I am I said that says,"....except for the names and a few other changes (my) the story's the same one". My husband and I had crossed paths from before we were born to Junior college. My Grandfather was his mother's boss. Later at the ripe old age of 9 or 10 Grandad took me fishing and we stopped by his former employees' home to say hi. She was married with three boys by that time. When we left the visit, two hansome young boys appeared riding mini bikes, and my Grandad elbowed me and asked,"Do ya think one of them would make a good husband?". Yup. Actually personally, I can only vouch for one, but my sister in law seems to think they both make good husbands.
But even tho' our story covers pre birth, my brothers little league team, our best friends being brother and sister, going to some of the same parties in high school, we were much younger than Harry and Sally when we finally heard Harry Connick Jr, singing "it had to be you". Epic, yes, spanning decades, yes, except for the names and a few other changes well the story's the same one. NOT!
One of the strangest parts of our Epic story is underscored with ZZ TOP's Tush. I mentioned our best friends were brother and sister. In fact we both spent time in their home over the years but were never there at the same time and my best friend was so tall she appeared much older than she was.... and well I had never heard of ZZ Top let alone "Tush",But that was her favorite record to listen to while I was at her house. Over time we, hubby and I, both feel God's hand was on us keeping us apart during those years.
About 18 months into our marriage I stayed in the states when Roland went on a mission trip for a month to Mexico. I remember being haunted by the idea that our life would end in tragedy like a kidnapping demanding a ransom we could not pay, or he might get bitten by a poisinous spider( actually he almost did while painting the church), so on and so on. I think I planned a different funeral every night for a month. I cant live if living is without you. "We had it all - Just like Bogey and Becall (Key Largo)". Then I would plan a more spiritual send off with Peace in the Valley or  His eye is on the sparrow. Then I would think of surprising everyone with my great faith and choose only Happy uplifting songs - Jesus loves me, a funny little tune from the Agapeland children's records, Heaven is a wonderful Place, and even Oh you cant get to heaven ....in rolands car. Ahh good times. You haven't really been married until you plan a funeral when they are late for dinner atleast once. I was in my early twenties then, no children. So as in any good 'mind movie' the story line was all about ME.
Of course, we had no idea then we would face the fertility problems, financial problems, substance abuse, spiritual doubt, and one day misscarriage, depression, and cancer. We were Happy Together most of the time. Poor as church mice but I dont think we really knew it. (poor as church mice....makes it sound like we lived on communion crackers and grape juice left in the cupboards of the fellowship hall - dont be ridiculous-we had veg-all and top ramen) Why hasn't anyone written a country song about top ramen? "I know I'm in trouble......when I hear that ramen bubble.....there'll be no steak, no potatoes, no candle light tonight...No smilin, no cuddlin, wondering with each bite....what did I do this time?" Ok I guess I know why some songs are never written.
The mystery of eating to excess sometimes gets blamed on prosperity. We've all been told that some cultures in the past found beauty in the heavy set woman or man because it made the man look wealthy - how else would he or his wife gain such girth, but through the abundance of his provision. Well, that country song, it's all right to be little bitty.. comes to mind. Why do you climb a mountain? Because it's there - same reason you eat the whole cake.
Sometimes it gets blamed on being poor. We used powdered milk, peanut butter, butter, rice (I had no idea how to cook rice), and government cheese, Yah baby, government cheese. Cheese added to the afore mentioned veg-all and top ramen . . . we were livin'. So basically we were eating carbs and cheese, with sodium infused over processed mushy vegetables. The comcept is and seems to be correct that eating healthy is expensive.  Hey "we kept doing our best and prayed that it(was) blessed", and it was way better than Scarlett's turnip! We did dig up a small piece of dirt at the end of our trailor and planted some zucchini. Just in case you dont know: scientists do not know exactly how little dirt is needed to grow zucchini, it is possible that zucchini doesnt need anything but air and water, and maybe not even air! So we did have a fresh green vegetble in our diet. One. I dont mean just one Zucchini, I mean zucchini was our only vegetable. We had many, many zucchinis. Many. I dont think it is possible to grow ONE(1) zucchini.
SO our epic had no car chases or explsions, no real show stopper dance/chorus numbers, no ultra panaramic views with eye popping cinematography, but as I became a closet "bulk eater" there was definately lies, drama, and suspense. How would I find myself again, in a culture that not only "sees" no beauty in a obese woman, but knows it is a detriment to her health? I would hear, Please come to Boston for the spring time...And think if only I lived in a different situation, a different place, geographically then I could be "the happiest girl in the whole USA".
Actress gets in car, turns on radio and drives to the nearest McDonalds. the song comes on, "...you are so beautiful, to me, You are so beautiful, to me, cant you see...." Actress doesnt realize it is not meant to be Joe Cocker singing to his girlfriend, but is instead symbolic of Jesus singing to her................fade to black. 
Sequel begins with the song Bridge over troubled waters playing during title credits  and actress returning from the store with a can of slimfast........

Why the weight?

Wanting to lose weight is a simple concept. ~~~~ Wanting to eat is a simpler one.

"If you get your tonsils out - you get all the ice cream you want"

"The family is coming over what shall we eat?"

"Happy Birthday - here's some cake"

"If you really want to get to know the people in the church you hafta come to the potluck"

AND "while you're at the potluck you gotta have a taste of everything".

 

WAIT! I chose to eat, I put it in my mouth, and I ate because I liked food, and liked being full. No blame on anyone who has ever fed me. Nor anyone who brought food when someone died, or when I was sick, or when a baby was born, or to celebrate graduations and weddings, etc., I did this.


I was so angry at my husband. The consequences of his vice seemingly dissappeared as soon as he quit. Next day he woke up completely restored to health, and good looks. Me? I stop abusing food, and I wake up the next day . . . . . still fat. I pouted a few more pounds on. Just to teach him a lesson. What lesson? It was like the big bad wolf threatening the pig in the brick house to come out or the wolf would blow his own house down. (a pig that can build a brick house will NEVER fall for that one, in fact, it cracks them up!)


It's not that I haven't ever lost weight. I can do it. I lost weight before each class reunion and after each baby, but always gained it back plus 20lbs, everytime. Packaged food, all liquids, cabbage soup - all worked. Everytime I gained the weight back plus 20lbs. Everytime.


I am a believer. To me that means I believe in God, the one from the Bible. During my journey to lose weight as an adult - I really didnt seem to have much of a weight problem before I was an adult - actually, not much before I became a christian. Before I decided to live for Jesus I drank alcohol to excess and even smoked pot a bit. Alot. A whole lot. Had I never smoked pot I would never have realized that it is possible to eat the whole package of cookies. And that being full, can help you sleep.That is what pot does to your appetite.


The thing was when I was doing all that I was also a cheerleader - 60+ minutes of cardio two times a week; I also had advanced PE - cardio and weight training at least three times a week. I also was singing in the choir and participating in the musicals - hearing applause, which can also become addicting.


When I had a choice whether to be active or not I chose not. Pot will do that to your motivation. I remember going to an away High School sporting event after graduation. waiting in the hotel for the event to start we found ourselves staring at the carpet, completely bored. Then we remembered the joint we brought with us. Smoked it. Then we found ourselves staring at the carpet, only now we weren't bored.  That is what pot does to your motivation.


So fast forward to marriage. Intimacy. Insecurity. Shame. How can this appetite I abused in the backseat of a car ever be blessed by the God of holiness? But, somehow, the other appetite I abused was now the center of activity for "all God's children". Music, and food - nothing to feel guilty about the next day - no hangover, no munchies - no smoke affecting my lungs, ergo my voice. Ah, I have found my people. ( and the term ergo)


My Christian walk probably became confused from the moment I raised my hand and someone said  " I see-ah that hand-ah". I couldn't understand why when the ladies had an evening event there needed to be childcare provided, but when the men had an event - there didn't. So basically the men had two nights free from parenting and the women only had one. The women were also the ones in the nursery on sundays missing the refreshment of worship, and the nourishment of the word. Hmmm. Couldnt quite grasp that as "Husbands love your wives like Christ loved the church" I think that's when I started to stop trusting.When I stopped trusting that God had my best interest at heart. What an ego, huh? To look up into the heavens and cry,"You call this fair"?


During the first years of being a parent, this frustration with what felt like an unequal balance ate me alive. So I ate back. Again no blame - it is just the way I reacted. And reacted. And reacted. And the more I ate the less attractive I felt and I stopped wanting to sing.


Then came the grand solution. I can sit behind a concert grand piano and all anyone would see would be my eyes. Like "WIlson", Tim "the toolman" Taylor's next door neighbor.(hi, Becky)


But hiding only works until about size 16. At that point, you can no longer just buy the "cute" clothes in a bigger size. Styles start to look more like maternity clothes, and even everyday jeans seem to give you the choice of fitting in the "seat" or the waist - never both.


During the 80s you had a small window of leggings and long, long sweaters which could look very similar on small women and bigger women alike, but then came the abuse of the legging. Women of great girth began testing the legging beyond the intended use, and with sweaters of inadequate length. It was tragic. The legging without a sweater of adequate length, is like looking at a bug under a microscope: it's okay if it's a pretty bug and there is no such thing as a "pretty" bug.........Like I said,  " hiding behind anything whether it is a long, long sweater or a grand piano", only works so long.


That inability to hide forever may quite possibly be the reason step one is admitting you can't hide anymore, the leggings have failed, the grand piano has failed and you have now become the "elephant in the room". Pun absolutely intended.


Just to clarify, God did not disqualify me because of my weight. He never intended that I would stop singing. I did that. I looked at myself with disgust, He looked at me with a broken heart. I took myself out of the game, He has pursued me to return to rejoicing in my heart, to worship. To fellowship. Which is why step two is believing God can restore me.


So why the weight? Because it has separated me from my hearts desire long enough. And by coincidence(lol), also put me on the high risk list for Cancer. I am determined to be off that list, and back on the worship team list, someday. One step at a time.  So if you ask why the weight, I ask why the wait? Today is the first day of the rest of my life right? yup. Yes it is!

Fall Happens - Spring Takes Faith

They can build breasts.

Not functional, feed a baby type breasts. But cleavage and bra filling breasts. I'm 50, and my hat is off to any 50 year old "functional, feed a baby type" breasts, but I don't need those. I certainly didnt want the "orange in the tube sock" type breast. (You can pretend like you don't know what I mean by that but you've seen them, we have all seen them.)

For me, I just like the symetry. You know there is an amazing engineering feat in a pair of breasts. When you remove one and wear a shirt even with a prosthetic the natural breast has a ebb and flow to it's "boyency" that the prosthetic can not duplicate so after a day of that asymetry, you can end up with a pocket up by your ear. Thats the rub. I used a prosthetic breast for four years before opting for reconstruction in 2005. I was told I was too fat to have the breast built from my abdomen and I would need to lose 100lbs before I would qualify for that surgery which included a tummy tuck. So they used flesh from my back instead. After four years I forgot about the drains and the pain of surgery. After six weeks that included drains an infection, and all the joys that taking pain meds and antibiotics reek upon your bowels. Finally I was symetrical, sort of. Yes they were relatively the same size but my original had a different drift. So I wore a bra a bit too tight to conceal this flaw.

The bra fit securely on the natural breast side, but would slip up into the divot left on my back where the new breast had once been. Not exactly symetrical.

And I can't close without mentioning that my nerves were all confused and I could touch my new breast in front and feel it on my back. Not exactly a party trick but I did think it was kinda cool that the mole that was once on my back was now on my front but when I touched it it still felt as if it were on my back.

So I will talk more about the second time around in the future, My surgery is coming up in December. The Dr is slightly obsessed with symetry so I am hoping he does his best work.

gotta start somewhere

Once I was afraid I was petrified, thinking I could never live without you by myside....
I love music, don't you? Almost anything you can feel, there's a song that just fits that emotion.
So when you get the diagnosis of cancer guess what? This song ringing in your ears is what you hope to hear. Imagine singing these words to a breast that may have helped you find a husband, fed your children and now well they want to take it leaving you a bit off kilter. So even tho' this song sarts out with the bare bones honesty of admitting fear - it is an amazing anthem of persistance, a battle cry, a committment to victory, I will survive.
When you take a deep breath and get ready to fight you want to hear the theme from that famous boxing movie set in Philly, "yo you dnow, dat wun". After the first dose of chemo you want to hear something from a frat party movie where throwing up was the goal of the evening and for some reason you thought it was funny when you woke up with your head shaved. (Not that that ever happened to ME!)
Anyway like I said you gotta start somewhere and I guess the reason I am blogging and the reason I started with a weightloss program stems from my survival of cancer twice.
There's a process I went through getting acquainted with the idea of dying from cancer even tho' I was doing everything I could to get well. I have a bit of a theatrical side and so I romanticized dying with my family around me, softly sniffing wishing they had been nicer to me, telling me how much they loved me and the theme from Brian's song playing softly in the back ground. Then just before the actual moment of death I would whisper in each child's ear,"you were my favorite". But NOOOooooo!, I survived. And I mean no disrespect to those who did not survive, I salute their effort to fight and to die on their own terms and I am sorry for their families who might read this and deem me selfish for feeling this way when I have been given a second chance at life - and I agree! It is terribly selfish. I just have no idea why God saved my sorry self when other much more valueable people have gone home. So on the advice of a friend I have begun a blog. I can only hope that someone can be encouraged by it or at least laugh. I know my sweetest secret joy is being responsible for someone's laughter. And who knows maybe that laughter will truly be a cancer patient's (or diet-er's) best medicine.  So put the lime in the coconut....(that is the only medical song I could think of)
I recently, became reaquainted with a friend from high school. He is a motivational speaker in training, I think. I mentioned I had lost 32lbs this year and he encouraged me to continue and I one day would be the size I wanted to be. And I said,"Can you imagine? I'll be over 50 but my boobs will only be 10! I'll look great!" The truth of the matter is the Oncology Doctor told me that my best chances of prevention were to get off of the high risk list - I dont smoke, I don't use alcohol, I don't work around carcinogens, but Obesity is on the list of risk factors for almost ALL types of cancer. So....it's time. I was a cheerleader in High School, 135-140 when I got married, then baby one took me to 160, with baby two I managed to get back to 156 two weeks after she was born. I wasn't happy with 156 tho' and dieted down to 140. two years later 160 again, then easily gained 10 - 20lbs each year after that until I weighed 300+ when I got the first diagnosis. Up to 337 my highest point during the second diagnosis. (both times I thought having Cancer would make me skinny, nope). Somewhere between the comic that cant get any respect and the rocker who cant get any satisfaction I am dancing my way  OFF the high risk list. Oh and I follow a program that an academy award winning actress singer follows, the one that uses points. A girl has to have a plan, right.
SO I will try to be here atleast once a week. "Thanks....... for the time....... that you've gi-ven me.." Ahh Music, there's always a song for everything. G