What's in a Name?

It's February 1st. February usually means decorating with hearts and cupids for Valentine's Day, or people getting a 3 day weekend when President's day comes. For me, it means something else because every February since 1996 I get to start the month off with a celebration, a birthday celebration. 21 years ago I had my second child, a little girl. I've written many blogs about her before on her birthday and other times. It is no secret to anyone who reads this blog that I am a very proud mama and I love her very much. This post will be a little different. I want to tell you a story. I grew up very close physically and emotionally to my maternal grandparents. They lived 6 doors down the block, and I spent every weekend there and most summers at my Gram and Grampy's house. When I was in 8th grade, we all moved into one house together. We lived in the same house until I moved out when I married in 1982. I was especially close to my Grampy. He was a little bit goofy, and he had this great laugh. He never met a stranger, he could talk to anyone. He loved to sing, and he had a little bit of a temper, but more than anything he was one of the kindest people I've ever known. I can't remember him ever speaking a malicious word against anyone. He would give every one a chance, sometimes 2 or 3. To say that I adored him is an understatement. Sadly, we lost him way too soon, in 1983 when I was 19. It was long before I ever thought of children. When I was pregnant with my second child 13 years later, I decided not to find out what sex the child was. It would be a surprise! I did know, however, that I wanted to somehow honor my grandfather and his love for me. My grandfather's name was Alfred John, neither of which I wanted to use, so I wanted to think of something else. Now, remember, I said he was a little goofy. One of his goofier habits was the fact that he called everyone George, friends and strangers alike. We picked the name Georgia if we had a girl, and we decided we would call her Georgi. That little girl arrived at 8:16 AM on February 1st in 1996. Now, why did I tell you that story about my Grandpa? Because his namesake is so much like him. She has every quality I named above, and if he were alive today, they would be the best of friends. I can't pay my baby a higher compliment than to say she embodies the spirit of her namesake. I know she will continue to do great things, but more than that, she will touch everyone she meets, and their lives will be better for having known her, just like my Grampy!

So Much More Than Music

Thirteen years ago I was single with two daughters, one in 5th grade, one in 2nd, and I was searching for a church. We had been well established in a church when I was with their father, but it just carried too much baggage to stay there after he left. I had tried another church for several years but found as time went on, it really didn't meet my needs or what I thought I wanted for my children, and so I began to search. If you've ever been on a church hunt, you know it feels a little like being Goldilocks. Some are too big. Some are too small. Some are too contemporary. Some are too traditional. It seems you will never find the one that is "just right." In 2003 I was working for a high school, and one of the teachers learned that I was looking for a church. She invited me to come with her and her husband to her church's Christmas Program. She knew I was a singer, and music was important to me. I went with her. We went to a Sunday afternoon performance, and the sanctuary was packed! The program was stellar from the voices, to the orchestra, to the beautifully lit poinsettia tree in the Baptistery that was carefully synced with the stage lighting design. I was so impressed, and you're probably thinking that here I would say that my church hunt had ended. It didn't. My first thought was, "they don't need me here." My search continued, but then one Sunday I decided to go back to the church where I had attended the Christmas program. I wanted to see what their worship service was like. If you've read this blog before, you know that I am a firm believer in signs. That day all my favorite hymns were sung. We were greeted by friendly people, but not smothered, as had happened in other churches. There was one thing that happened at this church that solidified my choice to start attending. After the service, the minister of music approached me to welcome me and invite me to choir. That act alone did not make my decision. He made a point to speak to both of my girls, children. They mattered to him just as much as I did. That told me that he was genuine and sincere. I showed up at choir shortly after that, and we have been at that church ever since then. The church was Derbyshire Baptist, and the man was David Schwoebel. We have been at Derbyshire since 2004, and my girls grew up participating in his music ministry. Notice that I didn't say choir. That's because it isn't just a choir. David has a true ministry at Derbyshire. He makes everyone feel welcome and valued. Valued was something I really needed to feel as a single mom who was struggling to find a place. David is beyond talented as a composer and musician, but it is his skill at relating to people that is humbling to watch. With his talent, he could be like so many others that rule their choir with condescension and an iron hand, but he doesn't. That's not to say that the choir is not disciplined. We are! But it's out of love and loyalty that we serve. He is my minister of music, but more than that, he is my friend. Truthfully, he has been there for my family for support in so many ways. This week he celebrates 20 years of service at Derbyshire. Happy Anniversary, David! Here's to 20 more!

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#