It's Not Brain Surgery...Wait! Yes It Is!

The big white spot in the center is the tumor.

On September 9^th I went to the eye doctor. It had been over a year since I had had an exam, and it seemed that more and more issues were coming up with my vision, especially at night. I went for the exam, and if you’ve ever had an eye exam, you know they put this big machine in front of your face that looks like a huge, bionic pair of glasses.

 The room is dark, and they show you on the wall in front of you, about 15 feet away, a strip with four capital letters, black on a white background. They test one eye at a time. First up – the Right eye. I could see the first 2 letters fairly clearly, the last 2 I couldn’t, and when I say I couldn’t, I mean, THEY WERE NOT THERE! Not fuzz, not unclear, ABSENT! I blinked my eyes, and they would appear briefly, but fade away to invisibility. I told the doctor this. He switched to the left eye, same problem, but I could see 3 of the letters, the 4^th pulling the same disappearing act (reading right to left.) We finished the exam. He turned on the lights, and was writing out my prescription, ready to send me on my way. I stopped and said, “Wait a minute! What causes that, the letters disappearing?”

He paused a moment, then decided he might dilate my eyes, and “take a look” I waited for my pupils to dilate, then went back into the room and he looked into my eyes with a light as bright as a thousand suns for what seemed like forever. Then, giving you the Reader’s Digest Condensed Version, he told me even though I was very young to have it, I had the beginning stages of Macular Degeneration. If you don’t know what that is, it is an incurable eye disease that would eventually leave me almost blind, no central vision at all. He told me about some vitamins I could take to help slow down or stop the process, and told me some foods to eat that would help and sent me on my way. As I often do in these life changing moments, I took to Facebook and posted a brief summary of what I just shared. A very good friend, who happens to be an OD, immediately commented, “Get a second opinion.” Shortly after that I was at an event with my sister, and she said, “You need to go see someone else about your eyes.” Ironically they both recommended the same person, Dr. Juan Astruc. I saw him on September 30^th, and after 2 hours of tests and scans, and staring into the light and dilated eyeballs, Dr. Astruc came in to tell me I did not have Macular Degeneration. WHEW! Big sigh of relief! I’m not going blind. Then he said, “The next thing I say is going to freak you out, but don’t let it freak you out. You have a tumor pressing on your optic nerve,” quickly adding, “it’s benign.” YAY!....I have…a tumor!?? Wait. What? He went on to explain that they were common enough that he had the neurosurgeon on speed dial, and that the surgery wouldn’t be invasive, they go in through your nose. I’d need to have an MRI, but it was all treatable and everything would be fine. Fast forward to last Monday, October 12th. I had an MRI and saw the neurosurgeon, Dr. K. Singh Sahni, the next day, and he showed me the films. The tumor is a pituitary tumor and is larger than they thought. It has affected almost all of my peripheral vision, and we have to move pretty quickly, as in less than 2 weeks from today, I will be recovering from brain surgery. Naively when Dr. Astruc told me that they would go in through my nose, I was thinking it might even be outpatient. Boy, were my eyes opened. 4 to 5 days in the hospital, the first night in ICU. I am trying to get used to the idea, and don't know if it has fully hit me yet, but I know all is well, and what is going to happen is going to happen. I'm in good hands. Readers use this as a cautionary tale. If I had not gotten a second opinion, I would be well on my way to going blind, and not because of Macular Degeneration, because the tumor would continue to grow until irreparable damage was done to my optic nerve. Listen to your body, and be your own advocate!

23 Years.....How did we get here?

In about 5 minutes, it will be September 24th. This is the day that my oldest girl was born. 23 years ago at 8:16 pm the doctor said,"She's a big one!," and just like that I became a mom of a very healthy almost 10 pound baby girl. We were old fashioned and didn't find out the sex of our baby before we had her. I secretly wished for a girl,and was thrilled when I realized I had a daughter. We have been through so much in these last 23 years. As I write this I realize that this will probably be the last birthday that Leah lives with me or even near me. She will graduate from college this year, and head out into the world to pursue her dreams of becoming an actor. I want that for her. It's all she's ever wanted,much like me, but I did not pursue those dreams, not as my life's work anyway. It doesn't make it any easier to let her go. This isn't going to be a long post.I've shared all of the cute little things she used to do, and all the hopes I have for her. More than anything I want her to know that I love her, and I have all the faith in her.These are the reasons I have always been truthful with her, even when the truth hurt.I hope that she knows that it is my love that causes that. No matter what happens my sweet girl,I will always be here. I would like nothing better if I could keep this baby bird in my nest, but I know that without letting you leave the nest, you will never be able to fly. Always remember this as hard times come your way,and they will, there's that honesty. "What if I fall? Oh,my dear,what if you fly?" Happy Birthday! My love always!!! Mommy

Think Twice

In 1989 Phil Collins released a song called "Another Day in Paradise" The title conjures up sounds of steel drums,  smells of coconut oil and dreams of sand and surf, but it's not about that at all. It is a song about a man who simply crosses a busy street ignoring the requests for help from a homeless woman. The lyrics go so far as to say, "He walks on, doesn't look back, He pretends he can't hear her, Starts to whistle as he crosses the street, Seems embarrassed to be there."
When this song came out I was leading a youth group at my church. MTV and videos of songs were very popular at the time, and so we decided we would use the concept of the storytelling video, but make it live at church. Several of the youth dressed as homeless and planted themselves in the congregation. The scene was set with one of our youth playing a wealthy business man, and one of our teens playing the homeless girl. He went on to his Power lunch in "Paradise" while she stood outside the large picture window shivering in the cold. It was very thought provoking. What brought this memory back to me? My daughter, actually.
About 3 weeks ago I got a text from my youngest. It read, "I just gave a milkshake to a homeless man." She had actually purchased the milkshake to take to her aunt, but on the ride downtown on a very hot day, she saw the man standing on the corner. She stopped and walked back to him, and asked him if he would like a milkshake. His response to her with a big smile was that he would love a milkshake! She gave it to him. He thanked her, and she went on with her day and he his. I asked her later about it, and she said something to me that really made me "think twice," (words that are repeated over and over in the Phil Collins song.) She told me that even if she didn't have anything to give him or any other homeless person for that matter, they are still people. I can't just drive by and ignore them like they're nothing. I should at least smile at them. She's absolutely right! I will admit that I have usually been the rushing business man in the song who pretends I can't see or hear the person. How many times have all of us pulled up to a light and tried to get as close to the intersection as possible, sometimes even nosing out a bit into traffic because there was a homeless person on the corner with a sign and we didn't want to have to catch their eye. We stayed in the paradise of our air-conditioned car with the windows rolled up praying the light would hurry up and turn green. I'm not preaching here, just stating what I've done 1000 times. Georgi changed my perspective. Do I know why people are standing on the street corner asking for help? No. Do I really need to? No! Am I wealthy? Far from it, but I can certainly afford to give a person who is out on the street a bottle of water on a hot day or a warm drink when it's freezing outside. Think Twice before you move on pretending that human being doesn't exist. The world would be a better place if we all did!

You're Outraged...Really?

Okay, before I start this one, let me say. I love animals, all animals. Well, not snakes, but that's a different story. However, I will go on record as saying that I would kill a snake if it was in my house or near me, my children or pets. But I digress. I also want to say that I have never understood hunting animals, any animals, for sport. I cry if I hit a bird with my car because he waited to long to fly out of the way. I nearly hit a telephone pole once because I was swerving to miss a dog who ran out in front of me, so I know I could not purposely take a gun or crossbow out into the woods or the plains of Africa to find some beautiful creature and kill it, just for the thrill. I am not slamming hunters. People have hunted since the beginning of time for food. This is not going to be a post about the evils of hunting, big game or otherwise. I want to talk about the reaction to the event that is on every social media sight right now, the killing of Cecil, the Lion. I have tried to read the facts in this story as I realize how distorted things can become over the Internet. It's like some giant game of gossip. You know the game where everyone sits next to each other in a line, and one person whispers something in the ear of the person next to them, and each whispers to the person next to them until the last person says out loud what was whispered to them, and it bares no resemblance to the first message whispered. Well, multiply that game by the billions and add to it anger and frustration, and heaven knows what's true and what isn't. From what I can tell from an article on the New York Times website, an American dentist, Walter Palmer, a self proclaimed big game hunter, shot and killed a lion in Zimbabwe in early July on a safari hunting excursion that he purchased for $50,000. He was relying on his "professional" guides that everything was "legal and properly handled," to hunt the animal. Apparently the animal was lured out of the designated hunting area with a dead animal strapped to a vehicle. The outcry came in a hailstorm of media frenzy when it was discovered that the lion that was killed was Cecil, a beloved lion in the wildlife park who was collared for study. Now, please don't think that I am trivializing the killing of this lion. I think it is very sad. I think that the death of any lion would be sad, but that's the point. Trophy Hunting is something that is legal and goes on all the time in Zimbabwe. Why were we not outraged at the 49 lion trophies that were exported in 2013, or the killing of 60% of the rhino population  between 2003 and 2005 leaving only 750 from the 2000 that once roamed the plains? Many of the animals are killed by poachers, and poaching is illegal, but many others were legally hunted and killed for sport. The reason the "professional guides" were arrested and charged with poaching is that they lured Cecil, and the land owner did not have a lion on his quota to be hunted. Believe me, I'm not a big fan of Palmer's, nor any big game hunter for that matter. Seeing all the pictures of him posing with gorgeous animals he's killed in the past makes my heart ache. Is he telling the truth about believing everything was on the up and up? I don't know. If Cecil had not been a "favorite" of the people, Palmer would have the lion's head mounted on his den wall and no one would have said a thing. I'm not saying what he did was right, but I do think, no pun intended, that he is the sacrificial lamb for all big game hunters and poachers to this point. He has received death threats for goodness sake. That makes sense. You killed a beloved lion, so I'm going to kill you. I understand anger. I understand frustration. I understand sadness. Death threats, I don't understand. Pretty much the man's life is ruined. Do I think he should be punished for his part in this if he indeed had knowledge of the illegality? Yes, I do. We have consequences for our actions. But if he thought he was doing the same thing and paying for an excursion just like he's done several times before for a big game hunt, I don't think he is to blame. I'm sorry, my personal feelings on Big game hunting have nothing to do with what was legal in Zimbabwe on July 1st or what knowing part Palmer played in the whole event. I am sad that a beautiful creature has been killed just so someone can say they did it. Believe me, I am not saying Palmer was justified in any way in my opinion. Ask my parents who thought they were going to have to take me to the hospital at the age of 7 because I couldn't stop crying hysterically at the end of "Born Free,"when Elsa's owners have to release her into the wild. Like I said at the beginning of this post, I LOVE ANIMALS! I write this post to say that I hope the outrage of Cecil's death is not just a flash in the pan and the latest bandwagon to jump on for so many. I hope that his death has sparked people to see what's really going on and that all animals matter. Hopefully Cecil you will not have died in vain.

What Have We Become?

I read a headline today, and it disgusted me! "Man Arrested for Filming Fatal Car Crash Instead of Helping" I clicked on the link to read the article as many times there's more to the story than meets the eye. As I read, I was shocked and then saddened. He did not just stand across the street and film it, which would have been bad enough. He actually walked up to the crash, opened the back door and leaned in to film the two badly injured teenagers, one who later died, and then walked around the front of the car to film. He was obviously there before rescue was on the scene. But, wait, there's more. He then tried to sell the footage. How can someone have such a lack of compassion? No matter what led up to the crash, the man is heard saying on the film that the boys are idiots, no one deserves to die. The point is not whether this jerk could have helped. It is that he didn't even try and goes a step further and films their pain and suffering hoping to yield a profit from it. As a society have we become so self-centered, so apathetic that we have lost all concern for our fellow human beings? I know this ass doesn't represent all men, but he represents too many for my comfort. Because we live in a world of snapchats, tweets and instagram, photos and videos are posted for the world to see seconds after they happen. There is no editing of what content is posted, what is said, or seen. This man did post his video to Facebook. I don't know how many friends he has or how many times it was shared, but wrap your head around this. He filmed a boy dying and posted it for entertainment or shock value or whatever the hell. I would hope and pray that if that had been my daughters in that car that someone would help them, at the very least call 911, not film their pain and suffering. I'm not much for using this word, but nothing fits but this in this scenario. He is one sick f*ck!
Why do we show so little concern for our fellow man? I feel bad when I hit a bird who waited too late to fly away. I certainly couldn't stand idly by while two young people were badly hurt and bleeding, let alone film them. The thing that really scares me? What will the world be like in 10 years? Hell, 5 years. What will we have evolved into by then?

Happy "Like A Father's" Day

Two days ago America celebrated Father's Day, the day children give their dad  homemade cards and ties, and Mom gets him what he really wants, power tools and barbecue grills. My kids don't really do much on Father's Day. Their dad was not a daily presence in their life growing up as he left when they were 2 and 5. This post is about honoring people who have been their "Dads" as they've grown and through different stages of their life. Back in 1998 when we found ourselves a family of 3 instead of 4, we had no choice but to move in with my parents. Luckily they had a large enough home to accommodate us with out too much adjustment. I had planned when I had children to be a stay-at-home Mom, but, now, finding myself single, I had to get a job. I was adamant about not putting my 2 year old in Daycare. For one reason, I could not afford it, but I wanted them to be with me, and if not, the person needed to be a close friend or family member. My dad stepped up to the plate. He took on fatherhood a third time to give my girls a "Daddy" on a daily basis! They both had a wonderful relationship with him, and I know he adored them both. He picked them up from school and preschool, and he was there in the afternoon sitting on the porch when they got off the bus until COPD did not allow him to sit outside. He died in 2007 when they were 11 and 14, and I know it was as if they had lost their own father not just their grandfather. I am so grateful they were able to get to know him and spend precious time with him. Happy Father's Day Papa!
Both of my girls went to a very small elementary school in Henrico County called Pemberton. John Harding was the principal there for most of Leah's years and all of Georgi's. He was a wonderful mentor to my girls, and he was hugely supportive of their performing talents. He was a constant source of encouragement for them all through their grade school years. I am sure that his confidence in them at such early stages of singing and acting helped shape their love of the Arts all through their secondary school and now college careers. Happy Father's Day, Mr. Harding!
In 2004, we joined Derbyshire Baptist Church. I had been invited by a co-worker to her church because she knew I loved to sing, and her church had a wonderful music program. My girls and I were looking for a church. We visited one Sunday. I was very impressed with everything but especially the music. After the service, the minister of music, David Schwoebel, sought me out to speak to me. He was more than friendly and welcoming, but he did something I had never seen before, and that one thing made me decide right then and there that this was the church I was going to make my church. We had visited other churches, and quite frankly, some jumped on us, and by us, I mean me,  like we were porterhouse steaks that had been thrown into a lion's den, vying for that next family to grow their numbers. Not only did David Schwoebel make me feel like a person and not a number, he made a point to speak to both of my girls standing beside me, who were 9 and 12 at the time. He obviously thought they were important too. He asked them questions treating them, as anyone should, like they were part of the decision making process. He has supported them through all of their years at Derbyshire as they have sung in his children's, IMAGE Youth and Jubilate College choirs. He has attended their school plays and offered countless assistance with projects for school, or practice for an audition, or playing parts for Honors Choir or Quartet practice, all out of the goodness of his heart in his spare time, which for David Schwoebel, is a rare commodity. My oldest has said more than once that when it came time for her to get married, she could see Mr. Schwoebel walking her down the aisle. He has been a great resource for our family, but more than that he has been a great friend! Happy Father's Day, Mr. Schwoebel!
These three men all had their own families, but they took the time to be an important influence in my girls' lives. They and I are richer because we have known them, and they deserve to be celebrated!

My "Son" is Going to Be a Star

About 9 years ago I saw a young man who was very talented. He had just graduated from Freeman High School, and I had seen him perform in 2 different musicals, and I was very impressed. In the summer of 2007 I was cast in "Bye, Bye Birdie" with him, and we spent the summer rehearsing and performing. A year after that we did a show called "Breakfast With Les and Bess," and I had the opportunity to really get to know him. Doing theatre for the past 41 years I have had many occasions to meet and share the stage with young people. In fact several young people I have worked with call me Mama Terri. I feel like they are all my children. This young man is no different. I feel as if he is my adopted son. Shortly after our last show he set out for California to the American Musical and Dramatic Academy (AMDA) I followed his progress through facebook as he landed modeling jobs, and Youtube series, and films. He has been tenacious, and he has been working very hard to make his dream come true. I am over the moon excited for him as the announcement was made today that he will be playing a starring role on General Hospital. He may not remember this, but I do. We were sitting in my living room one night talking, and he was sharing his apprehension about moving to California and getting into the "business" I told him that he needed to stay true to himself, and be the man he is. Choices are his to make. We all have the choice no matter the circumstance to pick right from wrong. He obviously has made the right choices to lead him to this point, and I am so proud! Stay true to you, Rob, and we'll be watching!

2007 Bye, Bye Birdie Cast Party