An After Christmas Gift

I first met Duke Lafoon back in 1995. I was doing a little play called Rip Van Winkle at Swift Creek Mill Playhouse. Duke was Rip, and I was a troll. Even back then I knew Duke was mega talented! He just has "it". The big cherry on the top of this sundae is that he is one of the nicest people you will ever meet. He moved to New York long ago, but occasionally, he will return to his roots here in Richmond to play a role. I try never to miss him when he is in Richmond. This was my main reason for asking my daughter could she get us comps to A Christmas Story at Va-Rep, one of her perks as an actor in their touring company. This was the last week, and chances were slim, but we got 2 seats in the balcony. I have never seen the movie, I know, I know, but I haven't, and I wasn't sure what to expect. Here's the other thing... I don't like shows with big kid casts. Usually, there's a little too much "cuteness" for my taste. Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm a bitch. This show surprised me in a BIG way. If you read this blog at all, or if you know me, I don't hand out praise easily. I never say something I don't mean. THIS SHOW IS FANTASTIC!!!!!! From start to finish it shines. The boy who plays "Ralphie" could step onto Broadway tomorrow without batting an eye, and the kids ensemble are nothing short of phenomenal. Their vocals and dancing and general presence on stage are through the roof fabulous! I was so impressed! The adults in the cast have their moments too, especially in the "Major Award" number with Duke! True to Va-Rep's form, the production values are superior, sets, costumes and lights, all so spectacular. Who could forget the running (literally) gag of the neighborhood dogs. And one more thing.....Susan Sanford YOU ROCK!!!!!! And of course I can't forget to mention Duke. He, once again, did not disappoint! Duke, Richmond is so lucky to have you as one of their beloved sons, and I am even luckier to have you as a friend.
There are only 3 more performances of A Christmas Story. Get a ticket....if you can!

Light in the Dark

December, the month where rushing is the norm, and cramming everything into a very small schedule we find that certain things we intended to do fall by the wayside, victims to time. Case in point, this blog post. I had fully intended to write 1 blog per day in December, my own advent calendar, if you will. As you can see by today's date, December 3rd, I am already 2 days behind. Victim #1: Blog Post Perpetrator: Time. So.....I am changing gears to a more realistic goal, once a week. My idea was to write a post each day up to and including Christmas Day to  thank the people who have made a difference in my life and helped me along in my journey to this point. I have had so many blessings in my life, sometimes disguised as heartache, sometimes blatantly obvious, but all have made me who I am. Disclaimer: There is no way I could write a blog post about every single person who has touched me in some way if I wrote from now until I die, so several of these will be about groups of people.
Post #1: Carla and Spencer Dillard
Carla and Spencer actually both went to high school with me, Spencer, a year older, Carla, a year younger. I knew who they were, but we really didn't run in the same circles. I didn't really get to know them until they joined my church after they were grown and married to each other. My then husband and I were youth group leaders, and Carla and Spencer signed on to co-lead with us. We wanted to re-vamp things, and they were right on board ready to jump in and participate in my sometimes, out there ideas. Carla was my savior, as she is an organizational wizard, and really could reign in my mile a minute, "Oh, we could do this, and this, and Oh, what about this?" We had and amazing group of kids that we all loved and they loved us. We watched them grow into adulthood right in front of our eyes, and I am sure, somehow, contributed to their spiritual upbringing. Those kids could not have had any better spiritual role models than Carla and Spencer. I know, because they were mine.
When my marriage of 15 years blew apart, and I was left to raise a 2 and 5 year old, both of them were right there with me. Carla even watched my youngest as I had to return to work. More than what they physically did for me, they were there for me emotionally. They are both the type of people that you can count on to tell you the truth, no matter what, even if the truth hurts, and that is so important to me. They are both ordained ministers now, and I believe answering their true callings in life. They are truthfully two of the best people I know, and I wanted to tell them that. In this world of lies and deceit, I know I can always turn to either of them and get a straight answer, and the guidance I sorely need to be on the right path. “We're here for a reason. I believe a bit of the reason is to throw little torches out to lead people through the dark.” 
― Whoopi Goldberg 

Thank you, Spencer and Carla, for throwing some of your torches my way!

Not What I Expected

Well, ladies and gentlemen, tomorrow will mark a week since round 2 of brain surgery. Before going in last week, I thought, this won't be as bad. At least I know what to expect this time. I got through it before without many issues, this should be the same....right? As my drama teacher used to say when we flippantly assumed something, "WRONG!" Yes, I was going in for the same procedure, a transsphenoidal hypophysectomy, something my nurses must not have known right away while prepping me for surgery last Wednesday morning because they kept talking about someone coming in to do my fiducicials - something used to help in surgery if it were being done cranially. It wasn't, and, thank God, they figured that out. They rolled me down to do a CT, then an MRI before I ever went into surgery. I don't remember much after that. It was probably around 9:30 in the morning when surgery finally began. I probably woke up in recovery around 8pm that night. Yes, if you read anything previous to this, it was MUCH longer. Why?, you may ask. Well, they removed as much of the leftover tumor from last year and drained and removed the cyst that had developed, and closed me up. Then they wheeled me into the MRI room, while still under anesthesia to check to see if anything else was left. There was. Back to the operating room to open me back up and do a little more house cleaning, essentially 2 procedures for the price of 1. So, about 11 hours later, surgery was over. This compared to approximately 5 hours last year. What does that matter?, you might say. I am finding a whole hell of a lot. First of all, my throat hurt terribly from having the intubation tube in it for so long. This made swallowing almost excruciating. Consequently, this made eating extremely difficult. Added to that, just like before, my entire nose and nasal cavity was packed. No breathing through the nose. If you've ever had sinus issues and been all stopped up, you know what it's like trying to eat and breathe at the same time. Sleeping was a whole other issue. The first night I woke up every 10 minutes as breathing through my mouth caused EXTREME dryness. The roof of my mouth also hurt from the intubation tube, so trying to close my mouth and swallow with next to no saliva was a real chore. The next night got a little better. I only woke up every 20 minutes, and by the third day I actually took a nap sitting up for almost an hour. By Saturday I was allowed to come home, but to my disappointment, I still had to keep my nose packed until Monday. I was devastated. Last time, my surgery was on Tuesday, and my packing came out on Friday. I guess it could have had something to do with the fact that they actually rooted around twice in there and had to make sure healing was well on its way. Finally, joy of joys!, yesterday (Monday) my packing came out. You cannot know how happy I was, aside from the fact that it feels like your brain is really coming out through your nose. I CAN BREATHE AGAIN! I am still sleepier than normal, and my throat still hurts, but things are getting better day by day. I will have a follow up visit with my neurosurgeon on November 29th. After that I will have an MRI in mid January to see if everybody is finally OUT. Spoiler Alert: It seems there is some that is attached to a blood vessel, and I may still need Gamma Knife Surgery (pinpointed radiation) to remove that, but we will cross that bridge if we come to it. For now, I am thinking that Mike and his "cysta" are finally gone, and I will continue to heal. Thank you all for your good thoughts, prayers and surrounding me with love and light. I am not out of the woods yet, but I'm in a nice clearing for now.

What've They Got That I Ain't Got?

It was exactly  a year ago that I headed down to Johnston Willis Hospital in the dark to have a tumor removed from my brain. I didn't know what to expect. Was there going to be a lot of pain? How would I feel afterward? Anesthesia makes me nauseous. What if I got sick after surgery? If I wasn't allowed to sneeze, I am sure it would not be good if I had to throw up after the surgery. All these questions. But... I wasn't worried, and I guess this is what this post is about. I don't worry about things like this. They are what they are, and whatever happens is going to happen, and there's not a whole hell of a lot I can do about it. A week from tomorrow on November 2nd I will be making the same trip to the hospital for the exact same procedure. If you read this blog, you know the details. I am not worried. Again, it is what it is. This has to be done. Let's do it. Friday night I was talking to a friend, and she made the statement, "You're being so brave." I don't see myself that way. I guess it may look that way to others, but I see bravery as the person who runs into the burning building, the policeman, the fireman, the cop, the soldier, not me.
“Bravery is a willing decision to do what must be done. Fear is a cancer that is cured only by doing what must be done, backed by an intelligent, open mind.” 
― Corey Aaron Burkes
There is no choice in this matter. What is the use in worrying? I have friends and family and even strangers who are praying for me and surrounding me with light and love. What could be better? I have a faith that God will take care of me in His way as He sees fit, and who am I to question His motives?  Do I want to do this again? Am I happy about it? Make no mistake on how I feel about that one. No, I do not want to do it again! But I am, and that's really life, isn't it, doing things we don't want to do because they have to be done mixed with things that bring us joy? Whatever you are facing, big or small, find your courage in knowing it has to be done and moving forward. And do not compare your problems with others. Suffering is relative. The next time someone tells you, "It could be worse," or "At least it's not______." Smack them in the mouth, well, maybe just smile and say, "You're right," while envisioning smacking them in the mouth. Just because someone else is going through something worse than you are, does not make you feel better. You have the strength to get through. A little worse for the wear on the other side, but also wiser, and better for getting through it. See you on the other side.

And So, Here I Am Again.

I am relatively sure that if a survey were taken of several hundred people asking them to list 10 things they feel uncomfortable or embarrassed doing, I would bet that asking for help would appear somewhere on that list. No one wants to ask for help. It starts when we are little and learning to walk. We want to do it ourselves. Then in grade school we don't raise our hand to ask a question or say that we don't understand the material for fear of being judged or thought of as stupid. As we become adults we find it hard to ask for help when we are struggling because society has taught us that we must learn to stand on our own 2 feet. Asking for any kind of help is hard, but when money is the issue, it becomes unbearable! 

Almost exactly a year ago I found myself in a situation I never thought I would be in. I had been diagnosed with a brain tumor, technically a pituitary tumor, but it was in the middle of my brain, so brain surgery was required. I had lost ALL of my peripheral vision because the tumor was pressing on my optic nerves. I had no idea how I was going to afford the astronomical medical costs and loss of wages that having this surgery would cause. And before you ask, yes I do have insurance, but 30% of a $229,000 hospital bill, even when it is cut down to the "reasonable and customary" charge was something this single mom could not even fathom of how to come up with the money to pay. I am not an extravagant person. I never really have been, but when I became the single mother of 2 girls ages 2 and 5, frugal became my middle name. I have no savings as eating was more important to us. We rarely take vacations because we can't afford them. I am not saying all this to solicit a pat on the back. I want to share that I am not a frivolous person when it comes to money. See, there's that fear of being judged rearing it's ugly head. Last year my youngest daughter started a GoFundMe page to help with my medical expenses and to help with my loss of wages while I was recovering. I was humbled to say the least. Friends and strangers came to my aid. I was so grateful. Never in a million years would I have thought last year that I would be going through all this again, but I am. The Reader's Digest version is that there was some of the tumor left. When the neurosurgeon describes the tumor as "huge" you know it must have been a bear. I knew that eventually I might have to have that removed if it grew, but about a month ago I was devastated to learn that I had now developed a cyst in the same area, and it is already affecting my vision. This has changed everything. I was planning to wait so I could save up vacation and sick time to avoid loss of wages. Maybe I could save a little money or get a part time job to bank some to help with expenses, but now I am right back in the same boat and can't do either of those things because of the quick pace at which we have to move to get the tumor and cyst out. My surgery is scheduled for November 2nd. Added to that they are doing the procedure this time with an "inter-operative MRI" to make sure ALL of the tumor is gone before I come out of the operating room. I found out today that because of that I will need an additional MRI before I go into surgery to make sure that process runs smoothly. I am still trying to find the money to pay for the MRI done last summer that revealed the cyst. Just to give you an idea, each MRI costs me $750.00. The hospital bill will cost into the thousands, and because of recovery time, I may lose anywhere from $500.00 to $1000.00 in wages, not to mention that last year my "disability" income did not even get approved until well after I had returned to work. As we all know, bills don't wait. they are due when they are due. I'm not going to go on and on, and I am not trying to make this sound like a sob story. The long and short of it is that I am asking for help again. I wish I didn't have to, and if I win Publisher's Clearing House, I will make sure to let everyone know and give any GoFundMe money to charity, but until that happens, I will need money to hopefully get this thing in my brain to leave and STAY GONE this time. 

I know so many of you that read this blog helped me last time, and I will never be able to tell you how grateful I was and still am. Let me say thank you in advance to anyone who chooses to help now, and my greatest wish is that some day I will be in the financial position to pay it forward 1000 times over. The link to the page is above, but I will post it here again. Thank you. I love you all!

https://www.gofundme.com/b26dhnqu# 

24 on the 24th

As of the very first typing of this entry it is 12:00 AM on September 24, 2016. This is a very special day in my life. For one reason, this is the day my parents chose to marry back in 1960, and because of that day, I was eventually born. So, in essence, because of September 24th, 1960 and what happened on that day, I am here. Because I was born, the second special thing happened on this day. On September 24, 1992, I had a baby girl. So much has happened since she came into the world 24 years ago. She began life with 2 parents who were married. She was an only child. She had 2 aunts and an uncle, 4 grandparents, and 1 great-grandparent. Today she faces life raised by a single mom. She has lost 2 grandfathers and her great grandmother. She has gained a sister with whom she grew up as best buds, a cat that she loves fiercely, a college degree and just recently her very first car she bought on her own.  She has faced more trials than most young women her age, and life has not always been easy, but she has never given in. She has persistently gone after what she has wanted in life. Today she is a professional actress having secured a job with Va-Rep's touring company. She has wanted to be an actress most of her life, and she is. I know she knows how lucky she is to be able to say that. I always told her that she needed to make a decision. She could go after 2 things as an actress. She could go after fame or making her living, but they were not necessarily the same thing. Would she love to be accepting an Emmy, Oscar or Tony in the next 5 years? Sure! But..going to a job everyday that she loves is just fine for now. She will leave for "the road" on September 29th, and will be gone most of the fall. She will see a good portion of the East Coast and visit many places that she has never been. I am so excited for her, and I have to say, a little envious. But I am definitely proud of her. I cannot say it enough! What an adventurous 24 years, but one thing I know for sure, the next 24 will be just as adventurous if not more so. With this birthday you begin your first official year as a full fledged grown-up. No more school! This is real life, kid! I have no doubt you're going to kick its ass! Happy Birthday, sweet girl! I love you!

Mike's "Cysta" is Already a Problem Tennant

Back in the middle of July I wrote an entry with an update on my tumor (Mike Wazowski). I know several of you have been following my progress through this whole tumor/brain surgery ordeal that started a little less than a year ago. Wow! That's hard to believe that it's been almost a year since the exisitence of Mike was first discovered. So much has happened in these last 10 months. When one is told that they have a tumor it strikes a chord. No matter what is said after that, you have this initial feeling of dread. It is probably because we've watched too many scenes in movies or on TV where the hero or heroine fights bravely to the death with a brain tumor, we instantly think CANCER. Mine was not cancer. It was never thought to be cancer, but knowing that, I almost took it too lightly at first. Even after everything was removed, (well, not everything) I felt fine, by my standards. I have my granfather's "shake it off" constitution, so I thought I'm feeling fine. It's all over, and even if there is something hanging around, I can live with it until it poses a threat. I had made all mylittle plans of waiting until May to have my surgery. Afterall that fits better with my schedule, and I can bank enough time at work to be able to take the month needed to recover at full salary instead of 2/3 or, worse, days with no salary at all. NEWSFLASH: Threat posed! Last week I saw Dr. Astruc, the eye specialist who first caught the problem, for a routine follow-up. Part of the follow-up was a field of vision test as I had had the previous 2 visits since Mike had mostly affected my peripheral vision. I was a little worried when I took the eye test, you know the one with the letters, and my right eye was acting the same way it had when all this mess started but not as bad. The last letter in the line was invisible, not the last 2. But, as we tend to do as humans, I rationalized. It's dark in here. Maybe I have something in my eye, etc., etc. Then I went to take the field of vision test, and we started the process of staring down the long tunnel and clicking the plastic piece in my hand every time I saw a flash of light. Back to the examining room to wait for Dr. Astruc. As he looked at the results compared with my results in May, I didn't hear what I wanted to hear. Left eye? PERFECT! Right eye? Another dark spot has appeared. Well, CRAP! He said that he thought the cyst was probably causing that, but he would send the report to Dr. Sahni, my neurosurgeon, and he would make the determination of how to proceed. I saw Dr. Astruc on a Wednesday, and Thursday morning I got a call from Dr. Sahni. To summarize: My plans to wait until May went out the window. In fact, when I told Dr. Sahni I wanted to wait until then, he chuckled and said, "No, you cannot wait until then." So as it stands now, I am shooting for the first week of November, almost exactly where I was a year ago. I'm not thrilled, but it is what it is. What else am I going to do? This time they will do what Dr. Sahni called an Inter-operative MRI. That means they will do the MRI while I am still under to make sure EVRYONE vacates! I can tell you one thing. Mike's not getting his security deposit back!

It's My Daddy's Birthday

Today, my daddy would have turned 81. He has been gone almost 9 years, and at the typing of this my eyes are welling with tears. I was definitely a daddy's girl, and I think I will always miss him. Lately I have been thinkning about him a lot. He was a staunch Republican, for one. I grew up in a house that believed Nixon was railroaded. I'm serious, but I think even Daddy would scratch his head at this year's Republican nominee. Daddy might even, dare I say it, vote Democrat this year. Politics was not the only thing where my father and I differed in opinion, but I could always count on him to tell the truth, something rare these days. I especially miss being able to ask him for advice. Although he dropped out of high school, he knew something about everything. He could tell you anything about cars. He knew if he was getting a good deal, and if he was being rooked. He tinkered a lot and could fix most anything.
He would be fiercely proud of his granddaughters. He would have cried a river watching Leah graduate from college this past May, and shed just as many tears listening to Georgi's angelic voice singing some of his favorite Simon and Garfunkel songs. I love that she discovered them on her own, and loves their music just as much as my dad did.
I guess what I loved the most is that I know my daddy loved me. With all the hurt and brokenness in the world, I realize more and more each day how lucky I was. With all of our disagreements, I KNEW I could count on him for anything. He believed in me and supported me without me having to ask for a thing. He wasn't perfect. No one is, but I wouldn't have traded with anyone. I miss you, Daddy! Happy Birthday!

Mike Wazowski Has a Friend, and It's not Sully

It's a lovely Saturday morning. I am sitting here in my new house enjoying the little Florida room in the back, one of the features that really sold me on moving in. It's quiet. All I can hear right now are the sounds of nature and my kitty, Lacy purring beside me. I have needed this all week, and I am glad just to sit here and enjoy the "downtime." It's been a crazy week, folks. First of all, we are moving into a new building at work. Statistics state that moving, of any kind, ranks third in stressful life events, ranking only behind death and divorce.  This is the second time I'm moving in the span of just 2 months. Add to that, uncertainty about the move at work. We are all packed only to find out the move date has changed.  So there's that. Then I get my cleaning deposit back from my previous move, something I have been looking forward to so I can shop for a sofa, to find it is 1/10 of what I deposited, I was livid, but that's another blog post. Then last Thursday was my day to see the neurologist to find out the results of my follow up MRI to see if my friend Mike Wazowski had grown back. Well, here's the scoop. Mike doesn't seem to have grown, but a friend has moved in with him. In looking at the most recent films, the conclusion is that I have now developed a cyst in the area Mike used to reside called the Cella. The best way I can describe the location is the space between the two hemispheres of your brain. The cyst is at the top of this space, and what Mike left behind is at the bottom. I am in no imminent danger, not like things were before when Mike took up the entire space and then some, but here is the disappointing news I received. I must have the same procedure all over again to drain and remove the cyst, and while we're in there will make sure that Mike has totally vacated his space. I was less than thrilled to hear that. I just wanted to be done with all of it, and I know that many will say, but at least it's not cancer, and it could be worse, and 1000's of other attempts at what they feel are comforting words, but the fact remains that for the second time in the span of a year, I am going to have to have brain surgery, and IT SUCKS!!! It's the exact same surgery, with the exact same recovery time which means loss of time from work and more money that I don't have. And before you ask, yes, I have insurance, but paying 30% of a $229,000 hospital bill, even after insurance knocks it down to their allowable charge is still an expense I can't afford, and yes, I know I can set up a payment plan, but I don't have any EXTRA. That's the facts, plain and simple people. Right now, it sounds like I am throwing myself a pity party. I'm not! I write this blog to be honest about the way I feel and think. Part of the reason I do that, especially with something like this, is because I want other people who are going through this or something like it to read this and say, hey, I feel like that too. I'm not alone out here going through my crisis. Somebody understands the way I feel.
So, plan of action, for those who are curious. I will wait, which my doctor says is ok this time, until I can earn enough vacation and sick time to cover the month it will take to do this. That will help with a little of the financial dark cloud. So we are probably looking at early 2017. Until then, Mike and his new roommate better behave, there's no vacancy in Hotel Cella!

Christian Extremism...Unfortunately It Exists

“If we lived in a righteous government, they should round them all up and put them up against a firing wall, and blow their brains out,” 

A quote from Hitler, Mussolini, Stalin, Idi Amin? No, this quote is directly from a sermon. Yes, you heard me correctly, a sermon given by Pastor Roger Jimenez of Verity Baptist Church in Sacramento. I have looked at the website for this church, and it looks normal enough until you begin to read. On the home page, they stay pretty tame even ending with this phrase, “We hope this website will allow you to get to know us better, and we would love to get to know you personally at one of our services.” Now, let me add something to that last sentence, these 3 words, UNLESS YOU’RE GAY! Because, ladies and gentlemen, the quote above is from a sermon delivered in response to the horrific attack in Orlando. Make no mistake! Pastor Jimenez is not calling for the murder of terrorists, not that that would be Christian either, but he is calling for the murder of all homosexuals. He goes on to “praise” the actions of Sunday’s shooter, saying that he is “glad” that “50 pedophiles” were killed. That because of the mass shooting, Orlando, Florida is safer. You can’t make this stuff up, people. I wish I was! Here’s the really scary thing, as far as I know, Verity Baptist Church is still functioning. It still has a congregation. People, Families are attending there. Children are being taught this crap as “truth!” To my knowledge, no one challenged him, no one ran from the church screaming. They all sat there and listened. At least nothing was reported to the contrary. I have said this before, and I mean it. If this is the way I have to be to call myself a Christian, then I don’t want to be a Christian! I love God! I believe God loves me and cares for me. I have seen too many things in my life that I know God brought me through. I believe Jesus died for my sins, but I refuse to believe, no matter what part of the Bible you cherry pick from that God wants to kill all homosexuals. This, my friends, is more dangerous than any gun, because this church is raising a generation of children (read more about their family integrated church) to believe that hate and killing is not only right but something God wants them to do. Hmmmmm what does that sound like? Islamist Extremism, you know the Taliban, or ISIS. The really frightening thing? No one is trying to stop this school of hate, freedom of speech and all that. Don’t get me wrong, I am happy that I live in the country that I do, and I enjoy the freedoms that I do, but when I come across someone like Pastor Jimenez whose exercise of that freedom breeds hate and contempt, it scares the hell out of me. 

The Unsung Hero

Mother's Day was 2 days ago, and if you read my last post, I didn't really focus much on Mother's Day because something else HUGE was going on. My oldest was graduating college, the first ever to do so in our family. It was weird getting ready for the day. Almost like it feels getting ready for Christmas. It's exciting! You can't wait for it to get here, but you're also really anxious. Have I done everything? Is everything ready? Do I have all the things I need to wear? What time should we get to the service, and on, and on, and on! And, just like Christmas, all this time is spent planning, and before you know it, the day is over. It was a huge day for my daughter, for all of us!If you read this blog, you know that I am a single mother and have been for 18 years. It took a lot to enable my girl to take that short walk across the stage to receive her degree, and she did not take that walk alone, but this post is about one person in particular. She was also in the audience to support Leah. She gave up her mother's day to sit through 2 1/2 hours to see her take that stride toward her future. I am talking about my sister.
In 1998 when my ex-husband left, my sister was living in Florida. Her support of me and my girls started then as many times we visited for a little oasis from the stress of all things single parenthood entails. Once she had her own baby she moved back home to Richmond and many times she stood in for me if I couldn't attend a school program because I was working or doing a show. She has been with Leah all through her college journey starting with visits to campuses. She has always been willing to help in whatever way she could including driving Leah all the way to Pittsburgh for her audition for Point Park's Theatre program. I was doing a show and, obviously, could not go. I was doing the same show during Leah's first college orientation at Catawba in NC, and Jenna was there in my stead. When Leah moved home at the end of her sophomore year to transfer to the University of Richmond, my sister made the trek with me to pack the car with 2 college years accumulation and hung out at the Mall while we waited for Leah to complete her RA duties before she could leave. She has ordered books, and shopped around for bargains, and attended plays, and pretty much anything else we needed help with. She didn't get any congratulations on Sunday, but she deserved it as well. So.. Congratulations, Jenna! Job well done! oh, and THANKS!

Time for the Pay Off

In 3 days I will do something I have never done before. Before thoughts of exciting adventures like skydiving or bungee jumping fill your head, let me enlighten you. I will attend a college graduation. I am 52 years old, and I have never attended a college graduation. I did not attend college, nor did my sister, my parents before me or their parents. No one in our family has ever attended college until now.
A little back story: Almost 18 years ago, I became a single Mom of 2 & 5 year old daughters. That, in itself, was daunting. I had no job, no car and no money. I had to move out of the townhouse we had been renting and into my parent's basement. I went on welfare and food stamps until I could find a job. As a little tip, don't ever get into a conversation with me about government assistance and the only people who use it are too lazy to get a job. In a short amount of time I did get a job, luckily, but it still didn't pay enough to get out on my own, so forget any kind of savings. Thinking about college for either of my girls was out of the question. In reflecting on that time I will often say, it was either eat or save for college. We chose to eat. My girls grew up knowing that if they didn't get free rides with scholarships, they weren't going to college, plain and simple. It was that way until about 10 years ago. I started working at a private university. One of the benefits of working here is free tuition for me and my dependents. There have been lots of bumps in the road. What I do is not my dream job, not even close, and many times over the 10 years I have thought, I can't do this. I'm just going to find another job, but I stayed. Sunday afternoon is the big pay off. My oldest girl will walk across the stage, and because I work here, I will get to hand her her diploma making her a college graduate with a degree in Theatre Arts. It doesn't get much more "worth it" than that!

On the Flip Side

For my readers that don't know me, I am considered, in palatable terms, big and beautiful, curvy, or plus sized. I have struggled with weight issues most of my life. I have yo-yo'ed up and down the scale, and been on more diets than I can count. Let's face it. Even though we live in a country that has a massive amount of the population considered overweight, the world is not made for us. Blah, blah, blah. You've heard it all before. It is a concern of mine, and I have a lot to say about it, but this post is not about that. It's a different kind of body image concern. I have 2 beautiful daughters. My youngest is very petite in every way. She takes after my grandmother who never grew to over 5 feet. At 20, Georgi is 5'1" tall, and that is where she will stay. In the past 7 or 8 months, she has lost a healthy amount of weight. She looks amazing! She has worked hard to eat healthy and get fit. She works out and not in an obsessive way, but a healthy amount. She has an adorable figure, and I am so proud of her. She lost weight, something this country is consumed with, by the way, (US News and World Report puts the cost at over 60 billion dollars a year) but because she wasn't fat to begin with, or what we think of as fat, all kinds of interesting things started to happen.

About 5 years ago, I lost almost 50 lbs. Now, I certainly needed to lose weight, and I lost it under the advice of my doctor. People praised me, told me they were proud of me, and that I looked GREAT. Some even told me they looked at me as an inspiration. Yay! for me, right? At 50 lbs. gone, I still could have lost 50 more, and been at a healthy weight, but everyone's reaction to me was positive, encouraging and re-enforcing. Georgi met with different reactions after just losing a little over 30 lbs. It started with a family member who jokingly, and I use the term loosely because it wasn't funny, asked her if she was bulimic or anorexic. Countless people have come up to her  and me at church or at events and made a comment of how thin she was and asked was she going about it in a healthy way. No WOWs! No You look great! No pride. All negativity. All skepticism. Why? because she's petite to begin with? Because she wasn't "fat" she has no right to work out and get healthy? STOP! Don't answer those questions. IT DOESN'T MATTER! The point here is why do people feel the need to comment at all? How dare you come up and imply that, because she is at a great weight, and looks great in her clothes, and except for the fact that she's 5'1",  she could probably walk any runway, she's going about it in an unhealthy way. That would have been like people coming up to me before I started to lose my weight or even now and say, "Gosh, you're so fat! Are you being healthy?" No one would think of doing that!!!! Why do they feel it's justified to ask that of Georgi? It is just plain rude. It is insulting to Georgi and all of us that live with her and love her that she would take that path, and that we would let her. Here's a wonderful idea! Let's stop commenting about each other's bodies all together. Fat, thin, skinny, overweight, it's really nobody's business but our own. We should never feel ashamed about the way we look, so don't make us!

The Amazing World of the Bubble People

No, this is not the beginning of a science fiction novel. I had the day off of work on Friday, and as I was sitting in a restaurant, thankfully finished eating and getting ready to leave, in the booth behind me and my daughter, loud enough so that I could hear clearly, and I am sure, at least every booth and table in the immediate vicinity as well, the girl was speaking to the other girl who was with her. Now, that, in itself, isn't bad at all, but then I began to hear words and phrases that were less than appetizing, like "infection in the mucous" and "cleaning out wounds" and the more I could hear, the more shocked I became. My daughter and I could not get out of the restaurant fast enough, and I felt sorry for the people who were still held captive as she read her all too specific medical email to her lunch companion. I was appalled. As I walked to the car, I loudly asked, "What is wrong with people?" What is wrong with people? Each day I witness something so selfish or self-absorbed that I think, it can't possibly get any worse. We have become a society of Bubble People. Everyone operates as if they are in their own little bubble. They say what they want, do what they want, act how they want without a care or concern as to who they affect around them. It happens in restaurants, on the road, in theaters, waiting rooms, EVERYWHERE! A couple of years ago I sat in a doctor's waiting room hearing every detail of how this woman had discovered her husband was cheating that morning. I had nowhere to go. Nowhere to escape, much like the poor people in the restaurant who had to listen to stories of infection and mucous while they were trying to enjoy their chicken tenders or potato skins. I have wondered whether one day I will be shot coming out of a movie theater because I will shout out in a darkened theater to the rude ass who will not stop talking to SHUT UP! What has happened to modesty, discretion, decorum and just plain manners? I guess some people think  manners are old fashioned. I am not talking about using the right fork. I am talking about, as my grandmother used to say, minding our P's and Q's, being polite and kind to others. Thinking before we speak We need to return to a society that cares about each other, and not just for show. If it's a big cause with a telethon, we're all on board. We're good at the flashy, splashy caring. I'm just talking about the wave of the hand as a thank you when I let you into traffic. Now, I know there re plenty of caring people in the world.  I just wish the jerks weren't rolling over the rest of us! If you're with me people, let's start popping some bubbles!

A Follow Up on Mike

Yesterday I wrote a blog about how my pituitary tumor, christened Mike Wazowski by me, was not totally gone. I feel like there were some conclusions drawn because I was unclear. So, if I can't clear up my brain right now, I do want to clear up the understanding of what I'm experiencing and hopefully help others who are going through this. Let me say this right off the bat. THIS IS NOT CANCEROUS IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM!! Pathology was done on the original Mike, and he is benign. Also, from my understanding, this didn't grow back, it was leftover, so to speak. That doesn't mean it won't grow. That's what the follow up MRI's are for. Speaking of the MRI's, I do have insurance, and they are covered, but my cost is $750 at least, which, to me, might as well be the $2400 because I can't afford either. I am not worried! God has taken care of me to this point. He's not going to stop now. He has sent me a legion of angels in all of you, my friends and family. So if Mike is going to stick around, he's got a fight on his hands! Blessings and love to you all! ❤❤❤❤

I Thought You Were Gone, Mike!

A month ago I posted the results of my follow up with the eye doctor after my tumor was removed, and the results were amazing, even by his standards. Almost all of my peripheral vision has been restored, and still could improve more with time. Yay! I guess such great results kind of set me up on a mountaintop about this whole experience that it’s all over, and life is, once again, back to normal, or as normal as my life is. Not so, my friend. Last week I had my follow up with the neurosurgeon after my New Year’s Eve MRI, 2 months post tumor removal. I looked at the CD they give you. It definitely looked different and that hole was no longer full of the big white spot as you see in the picture, but I have no idea what I’m looking at. As I sat in Dr. Sahni’s office last week waiting for him to come in, I was imagining what he’d say:

Dr. Sahni: Well, Miss Moore, the tumor is totally gone. Dr. Astruc says your vision is almost completely back to normal, so unless you have any problems, I’ll see you in a year. Nice to meet you. Good luck!

That’s not exactly how it went. It’s nothing earth shattering, but there is still some of the tumor left. It is now in the bottom of the cavity where my pituitary gland lives and far away from my optic nerves, so nothing is being affected. It’s just sitting there, and it might just sit there forever, which would be the preferred scenario, but it could also grow back. Cue sound effect of Boos and hissing from the crowd. Apparently it was huge! In fact, Dr. Sahni said that many surgeons would not have removed it by the method mine was removed, through the nasal cavity. It would have been the “movie version” of brain surgery, shaved head, boring into the skull, through the brain stuff. As large as it was, and given the way it was removed, the doctor could not be overly aggressive because that could have caused some permanent damage. So, I am sure you are wondering what happens now. Well, you are if you’re still reading this. In 4 months I have another MRI, cha ching $$, $2400.00, to see if it has grown. If it has, we do the whole thing all over again, or if it hasn’t, we wait, the word everybody loves to hear. In another four months from July we do another MRI, cha ching $$, another $2400, to see if it’s grown, if it still is just sitting there, as my grandmother used to say, like a bump on a log, we wait 6 months, and you guessed it, another MRI. It seems Mike Wasowski just couldn’t bear to leave his Boo. But this isn’t a Disney movie, and I would have preferred for Mike to have just walked back into that closet and shredded my door for good! 

What a Difference 3 Months Makes

Yesterday I had an appointment with an opthamologist. I am 52 years old, and I have never had a need for an ophthalmologist until about 4 months ago. Another eye doctor had diagnosed me with macular degeneration, and I was getting a second opinion. If you follow this blog,you know what happened. I had a brain tumor. When I saw the doctor, they did a field of vision test. If you don't know what that is, you have a patch over one eye, and you stare down this tunnel to a little pinprick of light. Every Time you see a flash of light, you press a clicker with your thumb. It's like a psychedelic form of Jeopardy! When you're through the machine gives you a printout of how vast your field of vision is. I had virtually no peripheral vision. Fast forward 3 months. The tumor has been removed. Time to play Psychedelic Jeopardy! again. I got all my vision back in my left eye, and there is only a small affected spot in my right. And even that, the doctor says,will probably still improve. He was so pleased. He Said he had never seen such marked improvement in so short a time! When I saw the comparison, I couldn't believe it. Not so much the improvement, but how bad it was. As we were talking,I told him how I had put off the surgery for 2 weeks because I had to finish the run of a show I was in. He asked me if I found it difficult to do the show. I thought he meant physical limitations. I said I could see well enough that it didn't affect me. He said that he meant having a hard time focusing because I was worried. I told him I wasn't worried. He asked me if my girls were like me, so laid back about the whole thing. I told him we all were. I figure whatever is going to happen is going to happen, and there isn't a whole lot I can do about it but deal with what comes. I guess some people think I'm stupid or a fool, but God's taken care of me all my life, good and bad. I hardly think He's going to stop now. I'm not going to get preachy, just telling it like it is for me. Terri's brain and eyesight, 1...Tumor, 0.

No More Teens

Today marks the 20th birthday of one of the best people I know. She's smart and beautiful inside and out. She is brave and fearless, and battles things daily that I will never face the rest of my life. She is giving and one of the most selfless people you will ever meet. If you know her, your life is richer for that. If you don't know her, you need to, because you will have gone through life missing out on one of the greatest gifts you could receive, her friendship. I am talking about my youngest daughter. On a bitterly cold day on February 1, 1996, I set out to the hospital to have my baby, the second child for me. Growing up I can't remember dreaming of being a mother. I can't even recall mothering a doll when playing house, but I would not trade my years as a mother for anything! I have seen so many mother/daughter relationships that have no communication beyond obligatory "how was your day?" and "do you have homework?" I have had in depth discussions about everything, and I mean everything with Georgi, and I have learned so much from her. When most 20 year olds cannot wait to get out of the house,away from their parents, we have discussions about how we want to decorate the house we live in together. Some people think that's weird or unnatural. You know what I think? They are jealous and wish they were so fortunate as I. I received a text from her just this past Friday. It said simply, "Thank you for being amazing!" My response: "Why am I amazing?" Hers back to me: "You just are." I must have done something right. I love you so much, little girl! Happy Birthday!

Obligatory New Year Title

This post will be dated January 2, 2016, but I am actually writing it before I go to sleep on New Year's Day. Somehow that seems to be indicative of my life in 2015, not quite able to do things exactly when they needed to be done. What I seemed to learn from that this year is that things don't always work out, and adjustment is the name of the game. There were several firsts for me in 2015. I began the year in rehearsals for a college production of "Funny Girl," playing Mrs. Brice. I never went to college, so this was a new experience for me. I must say it would have been much easier if I had been college age. To put it mildly, they work you to death, lots of long rehearsal hours. I was hired as a costumer for the first time for a community theater production of one of my favorite Neil Simon comedies, "Come Blow Your Horn." I really enjoyed doing it. I must not have done too bad a job because I was asked to costume the show that followed. The adjustment here was that I was also performing in a show that was opening the same weekend as the one I was costuming. Note to self: Never do that again! Luckily, my youngest was helping me, and took over when I couldn't be there anymore. The biggest "first" for me in 2015 was brain surgery, not a metaphor, actual brain surgery. If you read this blog you know that I had a pituitary tumor removed the end of October. Talk about adjustment! The neurosurgeon said that the tumor had probably been growing for 10 years. Of course you want something like that out of your body, but there are all kinds of things that happen once it's out that you don't think about. More adjustments, adjustments mostly to hormonal changes. I never really bothered to think about what the tumor was doing to my pituitary gland as the vision changes because of the pressure on my optic nerve are what led to the discovery, but the pituitary gland controls all the hormones and body temperature and all kinds of other things. For instance I still don't have my full sense of smell back, and randomly I will start smelling fresh paint. I have hot flashes, and other menopausal type things. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. All in all I'm certainly thankful to have the tumor gone, but I wonder how long I will need to adjust. I ended the year and will begin 2016 with another first. I auditioned actors for my first foray into directing professionally. I am excited about this one, but also anxious as I adjust to sitting behind the table and not being on stage.
2016 will hold the biggest first for not only me, but my whole family. My oldest will graduate college in May. She will be the first ever to do so in our family. I am so proud of all she is doing and will do. Because I work for the University she attends, I will actually get to hand her her diploma. There will be much adjustment made that day as I try to keep it together in the awesome emotion of that moment. I am sure there will be many more issues that arise from the aftermath of brain surgery in 2016, but I have a ton of supportive fiends and an amazing family to help me through. I know I can face it well adjusted! Happy New Year!