Stuck in a Herd

Was it the lady in the wine shop after I was diagnosed, the Priest who prayed for me before my surgery, the woman I met at "Look Good, Feel Better, " or was it the conversation over dinner with two friends on the Bible. Seeds were planted, but timing had to be just right to bloom.

I was given a CD by the most God filled woman I have ever met. I was lucky enough to share a meaningful friendship with her for the short time God placed her in my life. I listened to the first few minutes of the CD and turned it off. I believe in God. I am a spiritual person. I was not about to listen to someone tell me I needed to accept Jesus as my Lord Savior. However, I kept the CD. It was a gift from someone who I deeply admired.

I was driving home from work after having a anxiety attack in the parking lot due to some insurance situation.  My attempt at keeping my composure failed. It was the straw that broke the camels back. I got in my car and headed home. I was driving down Carefree Highway hysterically crying when I see a rather strange site. Sheep on both sides of the highway. Yes, sheep. Hundreds of four legged fluff. This is not a normal site on this course of travel. A few cows every so often, possibly a javalina or coyote in the early morning hours, but never sheep. I pulled my car over in a hysterical crying state and began to laugh.  I got out of my car  and collapsed to the ground while watching hundreds of sheep. Waving my hands in the air, "God, I cannot do this anymore!! What have I done!!! Why God, why!! The questions we have all asked our Lord at one time or another. And there it was, my body fully engulfed with chills and a voice saying "It is time, I have you." 

A passerby stopped to make sure I was okay.  I wiped my tears and nodded my head. I told them I was in awe by all the sheep. I was not about to tell a complete stranger I was having a mental breakdown. They made sure I did not need assistance and drove away. 

I got back in my car, wiped my tears and turned on my radio. I plugged in the CD I so willingly refused to want to listen to. A testimony of a young woman struck by cancer and how she committed her life to Jesus. Here I was, battling cancer, talking to sheep along side the road, hearing the voice of God.  “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me” (John 10:27 ). 

The young lady in the wine store. You filled me with scripture when I was not sure what scripture to follow. You came along side me during the hardest time of my life. The Priest who accepted my faith even though I was not Catholic. You prayed with me and prayed over my family. My dear girlfriends I dined with conversing over the Bible, patiently knowing one day I would come to Christ.

As I am not a master gardener, but an apprentice. My seedlings are developing at the pace God intends. I thank each of you.

Deconstruction

After a routine bone scan, they found "abnormal uptake on my frontal calvarium."  If you would have seen the images, it looked as if someone put a huge target on the front of my skull.  My heart sank....here we go again.  MRI scheduled.  Anxiety at the highest! 

Great news....no mets!  My body has decided to go into an overload of marrow making in the front part of my skull. I really hope that is a good thing.  Thank you Mr. Cranium for setting me into a near nervous breakdown.  I would love to send a letter of resignation to the cancer cell committee to tell them I am through with their major threats!  I can now return my living will back in the safe.

In two days, my chest will be in the hands of Dr. Lewis Andres as my deconstruction will take place.  My emotions are calm at this time, but I anticipating change by tomorrow afternoon.  I am amazed at how many woman have had their chests tattooed after this surgery.  I appreciate the art, but I am not sure I could do it. My confidence lacks this time.  I had a conversation today with a friend of mine who asked me if I went back and re-read my journal from my first surgery.  I told her I had not, but I probably should.  She mentioned she remembers writing, "it is not as bad as I was expecting."  She is correct, I remember saying the same thing. I also remember many times cursing and swearing in the dressing rooms.  One day at a time.

Glad I could get that off my chest....

Keeping peace

So my last blog was leaving Bali. To this day, that trip put me back on the spiritual ground I needed to be. With a little help of great friends along the way, I have revived my faith and have apologized to God for arguing with him for so many years. My Grams always said, "When you have nothing else to go on, give it to God."

Cancer changed my life. Surgeries, chemo and radiation damaged my body and drained me of my strength for quite a long time. I had nothing else to go on...so he got a full plate. And then some. After many hours of talking to the air, meditating and praying for answers, I found inner peace. It is that inner peace that has taken me so long to find, for I will need to get me through the next phase.

 I have been dealing with severe pain in my left breast for at least nine months. It has progressively been getting worse. Long story short, radiation has caused my left implant to become encapsulated. In English, I have major scar tissue building up. My right breast has some slight encapsulation, but nothing that is out of the ordinary. My options were given to me by a wonderful plastic surgeon, but two out of the three would involve the possibility of more surgeries in the future. They would also not guarantee I would be pain free. The only option to relieve me of pain and not deal with any further surgeries is to have both implants removed permanently.

 I had flashbacks of the day they removed my bandages after my mastectomy. Tough view to swallow. Melissa Ethridge sings it best "...the scars are still there in the mirror, every time she gets herself dressed." I am not scared of the surgery itself. The fear is the emotional PTSD of the process. Compression bandages, drains, doing nothing for two weeks. I am not the best person when I can't do anything. I am trying to find humor in it all.

 Humor got me through the last series. The only humor I can think of right now, is after this surgery, take my implants and return them to the original plastic surgeon and ask for a refund. Hell, at least a few injections of Botox for all the hell we have been through.

So to my daughters original question from five years ago "Mommy, are your new boobs going to be long and skinny? I rescind my comment of "No, they will be round and perky." to "No honey, I will look just like you do."

When in Bali...

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The Maya Resort and Spa is not a resort, but a sanctuary of stress free bliss! We have died and gone to heaven. Cold towel upon arrival and exotic beverage. After we checked in, the staff drove us down to our villa. Each villa has their own "door entrance". You open the wooden doors and walk down the stairs to your villa. Our unit overlooks the lower section of the rice paddies. Bonnie and I are both speechless over this place. Negative edge pool, outside shower...it is stunning! There is a book on the table listing this as one of the worlds top 100 resorts. I can see why.

The spa called our name...full hour massage, body scrub and lunch one day, facials the next.

The hotel provided a shuttle to uptown Ubud. We ventured to the Monkey Temple after a morning of spa relaxation. Rule of thumb when visiting the Monkey Temple, do not take food in with you(even if they are selling bananas at the entrance way!) and don't make eye contact. I love monkeys, but I also know how easily they can turn on a person. So we strolled through the temple without food, making fun of the idiots who carried food in. The idiots were then being accosted by monkeys. Couple of loud screams heard in the distance could not have been good. Last thing I wanted on this trip was to be bitten by a rabid monkey.

We found a great restaurant I read about on Trip Advisor. I must give high regards to Bridges. The food was incredible, great wine selection and the setting was just as wonderful. It was so good, we ate here twice!

Travel to Ubud

I am usually researching and planning any vacation ever taken. All the planning for this trip was in the hands of the Wilmots. I left myself open to any experience willing to cross my path. We had no set plans on the places we wanted to see. Bonnie has never been to Ubud, so this was a new area for her to explore.
I am in awe to the landscape of this country. The temples along the roadway are a work of art. Driving on the other hand....we will leave this task up to the hired drivers. There is no rhyme or reason to the lines on the road, who gets what lane...all while motor scooters are coming at you like you are invisible. Yet, no accidents. This may take some getting used to. Did I mention you can fit a family of five on a Vespa?


Our driver is quite the character. He takes us to all the touristy places along the route to Ubud. The silver/gold smith, the batik fabric store, wood carvers and lunch at the rice fields along the way. The narrow roads are lined with store after store of goods for sale. The workmanship is pride worthy, yet the cost is pennies on the US dollar. Each town you pass specializes in a certain trade. This is a decorators paradise.

Arrived in Bali!

After a long day of travel, our feet landed in Bali. Upon exiting the airport, I have never seen so many motor scooters in my life! We grab a cab to the Patra Hotel not far from the airport. Vacation has begun. I can smell the salt water in the air. After checking in, we unload our bags, shower and head out to the ocean. Nothing is better than a long walk along the ocean after flying all day. We kicked back and enjoyed a few cocktails and headed back to the room. Tomorrow brings us more travel...to Ubud.

Chopper or bus, that is the question?

Four in the morning, we are packed, loaded in the truck and back down the mountain to catch a chopper to the airport. Plans are to spend the night at the Rimba and catch our flight to Lombok the next day. I believe I mentioned in a previous blog you give a few extra days in travel time for "choppers not flying." As we are about to experience.

After sitting at the helipad for a few hours, we are informed the choppers are not flying due to weather in the lowlands. A decision needs to be made as if we will now board a bus and head down the mountain, a three hour drive on a windy, unsettling road.

First let me explain the hesitation of taking the bus. Shootings have taken place along the road to the lowlands at buses full of expatriates. John lost a good friend a few years ago during an ambush on a convoy of vehicles heading to the lowlands. Matt was fired upon while heading to the golf course in the lowlands and watched a guy die next to him. Matt has not taken the bus since. I can understand his apprehensiveness. I have heard about the bus ride. Honestly, I am a little nervous myself. Everyone is leaving the island, the tribe knows they are leaving for the summer and there has not been an altercation in quite awhile. They may be getting restless. After much discussion, we decided to take the bus.

Normally, you board the bus and you are taken directly down the mountain. This time we were boarded onto the bus and taken "uptown" to the bus stop. We were then to board another bus going down to Timika. As we grabbed our luggage, we looked around us and realized, this was not a good scenario. 15 or so expats being looked upon by the local tribe, knowing where we are heading and the route to be taken. You may as well put a target on us. OK, now I am not feeling very fuzzy about this. A few phone calls were made to security and we were advised NOT to get on the bus. Don't have to ask me twice! We head back home and hope the choppers are flying tomorrow.


Could we be so lucky...no choppers flew the next day. Decision is made, we have to take the bus. Security is contacted. We board the bus and are taken to a destination where we are met by armed security to escort us down the mountain. The photo above is us waiting outside the buses for security to arrive. I think it is time for a Xanax! Down the mountain we go. I say a few prayers along the way. I looked fear in the face when I was diagnosed with cancer, but this was a different fear. You are taking a chance of not only yourself, but your family. This choice is presented to expats everytime a chopper does not fly and there are flights to catch. Tough decision to swallow.

So, the bus travels on and we are 10 minutes from the airport. Ten minutes to catch our departing flight. The airline is contacted to hold the plane for the people arriving via bus. Game plan is Bonnie and Christi head into the terminal, I grab luggage and meet them inside. We arrive, and the ladies go blowing through security to the check in counter. The guards don't even blink. In America, they would have been shot dead or tackled.

In the words of John Wilmot, he could not have stated it better:

"They made good time down the hill, made it to the airport and Garuda was still there. Only to get in the terminal and watch the last of the standby folks board up and go. Flight left them standing there, and the Ibu’s(white folk) nearly had a riot. Freaking out shouting ensued- as they then found out all flights to Bali or Makassar or Jakarta were full up through the 17th (when I am scheduled with the girls). Then they found out that no rooms were available in the Rimba! You could nearly hear the screeching up here as about 10 Ibu’s were stuck in the same situation. Finally after calls to the VP level and above, intervention by PTFI folks set it right and they mostly all had a place to sleep, but definitely not separate rooms.

That afternoon, after looking at many, many options (Jayapura to Makassar on standby to Bali) or other even less favorable versions involving Merpati Airlines and unsavoury airports, they decided on a longer, but very reliable method of Airfast to Cairns (yes, they had to go East to travel Westward… typical of here). Once in Cairns, they caught the JetStar flight to Darwin, and will catch a connecting flight to Bali tonight. ETA in Bali is 8:45 tonight. But, they will miss Lombok entirely, and will spend the night in Kuta area tonight and see if they can extend their stay in Ubud one day earlier. It should all be right now, but crazyness all yesterday. Woke up this morning to a fine mist and again, no choppers flew- for the third straight day. Sheer pandalarium at the helipad and at Rimba and at the Airport. People are getting seriously stuck and sick of the travel here- specifically in the highlands. Looking at about 750 folks not able to travel properly and more tomorrow, maybe."

There you have it. Travel in Papua. Can't wait to get to Bali!

Weeks Events

After taking time to decompress, the rest of the week was filled with less excitement, at least for a few days.

Hot stone dinner at the local/only restaurant. Melting Pot meets 2 inch stone is the only way to compare it. Aussie lamb, prawns and chicken to cook your own way. 3 dipping sauces on the side and the tastebuds loved it!

I browsed the Hero market for a few items. I passed on the tendon and other strange objects which resembled a bone of something. Chickens were smaller than in the states. No hormone injected animals here. However, they do like to remove the breasts of the chickens and repackage them. When you get a craving for a roasted chicken and open the package, you have a 50/50 chance of the breasts being gone. Aggravating for the locals. I picked up a fantastic Australian cheese at the store, Black Forest. I know I will have a craving for it in the near future. Cooked a nice dinner of penne and tomato cream sauce...forgetting to look for weevils in the pasta. Extra protein is always good.

Kate and Sydney were prepping for the big "50's" theme school production. All the children in the school participate in the nights events. Each grade does their own singing and dance number. The restaurant is decorated for the evening festivities with a drive in movie theater and a 50's soda fountain. The Tembag PTA needs to inspire PTA's in the states. Kate gave her goodbye speech since she is leaving for boarding school this year. A few tears from her mother, myself and I do believe her father.

Time for a good nights sleep. Chopper to catch Saturday morning, we hope.

Part 4...Grasberg Tour

John had planned a tour of the Grasberg mine during my visit. A copper mine? I really could not grasp why this could be such a big deal, I was completely wrong! John and I headed to his office first. The office building was surrounded by large equipment spewing rock out of the mountain and machinery larger than I have ever seen. We checked in and headed through the tunnel for my first view at the stages of copper mining. Conveyor belts, tumblers, extractors, etc. Final product in liquid form to be pumped down the mountain to barges. Amazing. Next phase, take the tram to base camp of the mine pit.

Now is the time in your life where you realize you need to overcome any fear you may have of heights, claustrophobia, or vastness. The tram arrives at the dock and unloads about 30-40 workers packed in like sardines. I state to John there is no way I can get in the tram pack in like that. To my luck, there is only 12 people going "up", but coming back I may not be so lucky. As we leave the dock, the clouds roll in and my view is impaired. Bummer. However, in about two minutes, we come out of the clouds with a view indescribable. You could see the top of the mountain and behind us all the way to the ocean. I am now blown out of the water. This is just the first phase of the views I am about to encounter.

John and I meet up with our guide, Jim, who has been at the mine over 20 years. Hop in the Land Rover and off we go....up "that hill!?" Any other time I may have been leery of the drive, but my adrenaline has gotten the best of me. We venture the road to the top of the open mine pit. Elevation is fourteen thousand feet and I am still able to breathe. The view has got the best of me. I feel like an ant looking over the edge of the Grand Canyon. We are lucky enough to have the skies clear to view Carstencz Glacier.

The rest of the trip was spent testing my ability to climb up metal staircases at high altitudes, walk out on narrow metal walkways over the worlds largest rock crusher....ok, now I am getting winded!

We ventured down the HEAT road to head back to our starting point. Along the way we pass a few areas where rock slides had happened not to long ago. The road signs are interesting as to the "incline" shown for a hill with rocks dropping next to it. We stopped at this beautiful waterfall along the way. It was a nice to see nature un-interrupted amongst man made works.

Part 3....Tembag Living

After an exciting chopper ride, we make it to the truck to head to the Wilmot household. Elevation is about 8,000 feet and the short walk to the truck, uphill has made me realize my lungs are not quite ready for this. The town roads are all gravel, up the side of the mountain, no guardrails with speedlimits of about 15-20 miles per hour. Vehicles of choice are Ford SUV's, Land Rovers or large industrial equipment. Enough said.
Understand, I usually drive due to car sickness. I have no option but to be a passenger in this country, besides, I would not even consider driving these roads. We climb up the switchback roads to Hidden Valley. I am in complete awe at the waterfalls coming out the side of the mountains, the clouds rolling in within a blink of an eye and another corner reveals mountain terrain only seen in magazines.

The Wilmot household is located at the end of the road in Hidden Valley. The view from the home looks down onto Tembag. The view to the east is a large mountain with waterfalls everywhere. You don't see the top of the mountain very often due to clouds. The clouds change on a constant basis. One minute you get a spectacular view, the next you can see and feel the mist as it rolls in. Jungle terrain.
There are also a few homes which have been condemned due to sliding off the mountain. Add it to the rest of the excitement.

After a hot shower, John takes me down to see Bonnie at the school where she works. Not a large place, I do believe the school has about 36 students total. I spent the day in the class room watching Bonnie in action. The students gave me a tour of the school and were so proud of the gardens they were growing for a science project. For a small school, the curriculum is amazing. The school was going to be putting on an end of year 50's themed show on Friday, so many of the students were rehearsing for this huge event.

After school, Bonnie gave me the walking tour of area up the street from the school. It is basically considered the "male" market area. The tribe travels up from the bottom of the hill to sell their "goods"(beetlenut with lime, cigarettes,peanuts, snake fruit, cell phone batteries, sim cards, etc.) The smell is like no other. The tribe covers themselves in pig grease to protect their skin, the smoke clove cigarettes and chew beetlenut. While chewing his strange combination, they spit it all over the place. The spit leaves blood red stains everywhere. Now I understand what the signs for "No spitting" is for. Women are barefoot and carry their children in slings they wear around their heads hanging down there back. They are friendly and love to have their pictures taken. Out of respect, I did ask to take photos before I did so. It is very hard to determine the age of these people, as it is not documented.

Part 2...Arriving in Timika

When you board a full size plane with only 15 people on board, it makes you wonder where you may be going. I arrived on the smallest airstrip I have ever seen outside of St. Thomas. The terminal area was the size of a CVS. We disembark the plane, on the tarmack and head into the terminal. I am in line with other Freeport, Redpath and contract workers. Custom agent checks my passport, guy at the small counter stamps my passport(with great fierceness) and moves me to the customs inspection. Everyone has a specific job they take pride in. I am laughing inside at the casualness of the customs agents. The xray machine is in the corner, but not plugged in. On the days it does function, they run your bags, but no one watches the xray machine. Comforting.

I gather my belongings, get my visitor pass and head out to find John. He is on the other side of the "security area" explaining to the guard he is waiting for me. The guy was not going to let him through, but security turned their back and John walked right past him. Now, I am laughing out loud. I use the term "security" in a humorous sense.

Bags in hand, off to the Rimba we go. Game plan is to spend one night in the Rimba, head back to the airport bright and early to board the helicopter to Tembagapura.

The Rimba is centered around tropical gardens, palm trees, wood carvings, etc. Flying around the area are the Blue Emperor butterflies. Papua is the only place you will find them. They are a magnificent neon blue color with black trim along the wings. They are everywhere. Grasshoppers are something you would see in a Jurassic Park movie...I think it was a grasshopper! The hotel interior is decorated with local wooden sculptures from the Papuan tribes. The rooms are spacious and cozy. All the bathrooms are equipt with a phone next to the toilet...still trying to figure this one out.

Hot shower and off to get some dinner. Baramundi wrapped in bacon, coconut rice in a banana leaf and veggies. Amazing! Morning will be here before we know it, so off to bed.

Off to the airport to catch the helicopter. After many hours, clouds have decided to alter the plan of us heading to Tembag. Back to the Rimba we go. Pouring rain, no luck of enjoying the pool. Try again tomorrow.

Tomorrow arrives and so does our luck. We board the chopper and off we go. In speaking with people who do this regularly, you need to schedule your plans two days out for chopper delay. I completely understand why people get antsy living here. This is only the beginning of the transportation frustration.

The view from the chopper is amazing. Waterfalls flow freely out of the sides of the lush green vegetation. Small huts spot the landscape, tribal life at its best. Tembagapura is within visual site. Time to land....another day of Papuan adventure awaits.

Time to travel....part one

I have returned from an amazing trip visiting Indonesia. Many people cringe at the time it takes to get there, but once there, it is all worthwhile. As Americans, we have learned the hustle and bustle of everyday life. My hustle slowed down once I reached Cairns, Australia. This was my first stop before I headed off to Papua Indonesia.

After checking into the Il Palazzo, I ventured out to the waterfront area. They were hosting the first ever Cairns Triathelon, so the Esplanade area was bustling with people. I took this time to enjoy the great weather, shops and check out the local menus of the restaurants along the way.

No plans, no time frames, no calls to make, just time to enjoy life in the moment. I came upon a small art studio selling consignment work of local artists. The woman behind the desk was painting on a small canvas. I was amazed how easy she made it look just by using watercolor pencils, a little water and wahla! I complimented her on how easy she made it look. She explained art is not what you think people will like, but rather a feeling from inside. She handed me a small 2 x 3 canvas a few pencils and asked me to try. I made my attempt and realized I can change it with the swipe of a brush. I was happy with my personal rendition, knowing in another brush swipe it can be different. Funny how life reflects the end of a brush.

Fasta Pasta earned kudos from the locals, so I enjoyed a late lunch early dinner during my city exploration. I grabbed a bottle of wine, a block of cheese, crackers and an apple for a late night snack. Amazing what you can purchase at Woolworths. I dropped it off at the hotel and headed to the Esplanade to watch the sunset. And oh what a beautiful sunset it was.

The next morning, I awoke to the sound of the screaming lorakeets outside the hotel. I ventured out to the Esplanade to the same spot I watched the sunset, but only to watch the sunrise. The couple behind me was meditating to the sounds of flute music. I am in the moment, in a spectacular element, under the most breathtaking sunrise I have ever seen. I look to the sky and am grateful for life and what it has given me. The man above works wonders.

Packed and ready to board the plane to Timika, Papua. Travel may be a little different, I tell my self. That thought could not have been more accurate.

Bucket list item #1

Concealed weapons class....check.
This is one class every woman should take even if you do not plan on carrying a firearm. Informative, empowering and educational. As a woman, you have a few more rights than a male should you encounter a dangerous situation. Your home is your domain and you have the right to protect it and your children. Find a class near you and sign up...you will not regret it.

New year, new me....slowly

Radiation will suck the life out of you. It will burn your skin, tighten your muscles like a super Tends Unit, irritate your esophagus, give you heartburn and make you fall asleep at the dinner table sitting up. Are we having fun yet?!

I have learned to nap when needed...which I have NEVER done. Doc reminds me only a short nap as to get back up and moving to keep muscle mass. Easy for her to say. I have been using my free weights to help stretch my arm. I may even consider a yoga class to help stretch the muscles and sore joints. Chemo loves to screw with the joint system of the human body.

Radiation was completed on February 3rd! I am looking forward to getting new sneakers to start walking again. I need to get the legs back in shape for two reasons....train for the 3 Day and a lifetime experience to Bali, Indonesia. Feet training her I come!

As I mentioned in my last post, time spent with others is the most important. Rich surprised me at Christmas with a spectacular gift...Mickey. Not the mouse...lifetime friends since second grade. Over the years it has been difficult for us to get together between school schedules and deployments. Maia was three last time she saw Aunt Michelle. Way to many years have gone by.

Mick arrived the second week of January for a few days well spent. Bless her heart as she made the daily trip with me to radiation and a few hours of work. Two foodies in a gourmet grocery store...one can only have been there! Thai food for lunch, yummy dinners cooked and laughter to be had. We took an overnight trip to Sedona. We enjoyed a few small easy hikes, as my energy allowed. Dinner was decided upon at Dahl & Deluca. Having been there before, I knew the dining experience would be exceptional. No better person to share such a experience with than Mickey. I am not sure who moaned over dinner more...Mick or me. Comment card was left behind completed by Mickey..."better than sex." Description complete.

2010 Holiday Season

November was the countdown month for my last chemo treatment. Lucky me, two days before Thanksgiving! Mashed potatoes have never tasted better. As for turkey, anything in the poultry division was not on the palate of favorites during chemo. Tart cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes hit the spot.

John & Mom's table was wonderfully decorated to serve the army of a family and dearest of friends, Jen, Jose and Sofia.

December brought in the beginning of my radiation countdown. 5 days a week for 35 treatments. Little did I know how exhausting this would be.

Christmas angels were chosen off of the tree at the store and gifts were purchased. This is Rich and Maia's yearly tradition.

Christmas Eve was enjoyed at the Kondikoff's and Christmas Day was served up at The Reidinger's. Chase, Olivia and Maia had their Santa list fulfilled. Video games, Nintendo DS, American girl dolls, books, clothing, etc.

I wished I had a little more strength during the holiday season, but I came to terms with the fact it was OK if all the cookies did not get baked. It was OK if the whole house was not decorated, if I missed a few ribbons the world won't end. Tough choice for a perfectionist.

After going through this cancer crap twice, what matters the most is to be surrounded by those you love. There is nothing greater than time spent. The simple things in life will do.

As for New Year's Eve...in bed by 11:15...to tired for anything else. Happy New Year!

Angels among us

While 3,000 people were walking 60 miles, I sat teary eyed in the sidelines with my own battle. I was not alone, as my mentor was also unable to walk. Linda Kacmarsky came into my life in 2008. She was the driving force behind Team W.I.S.H. This was her year to shine...One Million Dollars raised in seven years. Linda was unable to walk due to what doctors thought was gastroenteritis. Gastroenteritis would have been an easy cure.

Linda was diagnosed with cancer. This disease took her life on December 20th. Her husband Frank said it best, she got tired of waiting for a cure for Breast Cancer, so she wanted to have a one-on-one conversation with God.

It is difficult to write about someone that touched your life in so many ways. I miss her. She is an angel leading the way.

Come and gone

I just realized it has been since October since I updated this blog. The intentions have been there, but time slipped by. I guess I should backtrack a few months.
November: Rich walked the 3 Day once again, while I watched the news snipits of the event by the recliner. I had planned to attend closing ceremonies, but chemo side effects told me differently. Rich, my mother and John(my fill in) enjoyed the 60 mile treck with "Flat Heather." For those of you with children and have ever had to do a "Flat Stanley" project, should understand.

My dear friend Julia came up with Flat Heather the night before the 3 Day. She took her everywhere...including the Port-A-Potty. She was bandaged, fed and tucked in at the end of the day. After the Arizona walk, she was then transported to the San Diego 3 Day. Flat Heather brought me many tears knowing she was surrounded by so much love. She made her final appearance on the evening news. Next year Flat Heather will look a little more inflated:)

My father and stepmother came to visit while the rest of the family was walking. I knew I would not be able to accomplish much, so the help was greatly appreciated. I was very nausiated from the chemo drugs. I was having issues with my port, so Karla spent the morning with me at the hospital until I could see the doctor. A few days later, my father took me back to the doctor to have my port removed. I ended up with a severe infection that almost left me septic. My father asked if they have a warrenty.....one could only wish.

My last round of chemo was done through a regular IV the week of Thanksgiving. One step down and one to go. Radiation began in December.

Days of Progression

Mission of the Good Shepherd had a beautiful healing mass the other weekend. Father Mark gave a lovely sermon. We were surrounded by members of Team W.I.S.H., family and friends. It was emotionally uplifting as well as spiritually. It has taken me a long time to find a parish that feels like home and I think I have found it. It has given me enlightenment I have been seeking for a long time.

People have asked me what they say my prognosis is. Honestly I have not asked the question. I don't want someone to put a timeline on my life. When my time is to come, it will come. Until then, I take each day as it comes.

After my first chemo treatment, we knew they may have to change my drugs upon the report from TGen. They did. I am currently taking Adriomycin/Cytoxin. Radiation and chemo pills will still follow. Chemo treatment on the 12th landed me in the hospital with severe vomiting. This round on the 26th has been much better. I can no longer feel the 3 lymph nodes in my neck, so I feel the drugs are working. I have two more treatments to go. November 9th and 23rd.

I came to the realization I will not be walking the 3Day this year. This is such a triumphant year, it breaks my heart. John has been granted permission by the 3Day organization to walk in my place due to the circumstances. Once again, I cried. Something I can do a lot of these days. I plan on feeling well enough to attend closing ceremonies with my husband, mother, John and teammates. In seven years, Team W.I.S.H. has raised over 1 MILLION DOLLARS for Susan G. Komen.

So there is my update.

Down Time in San Diego

We are rich. Not by large bank accounts or monetary possessions. We are rich with family, friends, employers and those people who have come into our lives for the very first time.

Before my lymph node surgery, Andy and Louise were kind enough to send us to San Diego for a few days of mental downtime. It was well needed for clarity. Rich and I spent the days walking La Jolla beaches and listening to the seals. Relaxing on Mission beach watching the dolphins in the distance. Ocean breezes clean the soul. We walked the street fair in downtown Little Italy. No time restrictions, no doctors to call...at least for a few days.

While sitting on Mission Beach, a couple placed their blanket down in front of us. She had a bandanna on her head and he had a pink ribbon bracelet on his wrist. "What are the odds in 50 miles of beach!", I thought to myself. We struck up conversation. She was 25 years old, avid runner, fitness guru. Doctors thought she pulled a muscle in her upper thigh. Cancer had spread from her breast to her lungs to her lymph nodes all down her leg. Her chemo regimen was something I could never even imagine. I was rich, to share stories with a perfect stranger and a conversation I will never forget.

Our employers have been so supportive, time off, food deliveries and just phone calls. It means the world to us.

Women I once gave advise to are now calling me to check in. I am taking new drugs, so side effects are different. We exchange notes, complaints and tears. There is no easy way through it. We have come full circle...once again.