Fear and Funny...Butts and Boobs

I somehow come up with Titles all the time. Weird phrases that pop into my head and need to be written down....so here are a few, just for your reading pleasure...

Of Snot and Stellaluna.
An interesting phrase...one that I'm sure I'll have to use as the title to the book I am sure to write about the raising of toddlers. This one came up as I was picking up a nice, wet, gooey tissue off the floor - right next to a copy of Stellaluna that had been left out, as well...

Fear and Funny.
We just drove down to New Orleans. From Michigan. Hmm...Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana. Can you see the fear pattern here, if you are a city boy driving an uppity fru-fru car? But then, the entire trip down we listened to the Blue Collar Comedy channel on Sirius. Phil almost drove off the road a couple of times, we were laughing so hard. His trip back, alone, should be funny and hopefully not fearful. I'll remind him not to listen to any banjo music...

Butts and Boobs.
Yah, this one will probably get a lot of hits. I was conversamailing (having a conversation via e-mail, not chat or text) my cousin and talking to her about what they (all the doctors) are going to do to me today. My pre-op appointments for my new boobs are all today. From what I've heard, they have to draw all over you. I told her that I will look like what John Madden draws on the monitors all the time. But not just one - several plays will be scrawled on my body, I'm sure. Front and back. So my question to her was, "Would all those NFL boys score more if they had to read their plays off of butts and boobs???" What do you think?

The Sin Meter

How do you deal with sinners? Do you stay as far away from them as possible? Do you think they should be put to death? Do you love them yet still not accept their actions? Just how do you deal with sinners?

Can anyone answer those questions without knowing the sins??? We should be able to. But can we? Can I? I can't. Not yet. I don't know if I'll ever attain that ability to truly give unconditional love to everyone.

I am a sinner. Today I yelled at my kids. I did not practice patience. Oh, and about a thousand other things. Will you stay as far away from me as possible? Should I be put to death?

But what about the "serious" sins. Murder. Molestation. "Real" evil. I become "righteously" indignant whenever I hear about these things on the news - especially if it involves children. I don't think I could love and forgive some of these people I hear about. I know I am supposed to. But that "righteous" indignation keeps flaring up and getting in the way.

I know Christ has no meter when it comes to sin. We are all sinners. Period. I've got that. But what about us - among each other? I know we are not supposed to judge, either. But we are also not supposed to accept sin, right? So is there some list somewhere (besides the Ten Commandments; I do know that list), that shows where a sin falls on the "sin meter"? What's the difference between "sin" and "evil" as we see it every day? I thought a bad thought today - is that a sin or am I evil? Some guy drowned his kids - is that just a sin or is that evil? Can I and should I accept him as he is - a sinner? Or, can I not accept him and publicly decry him, as he is evil? (As, I think, most others in our population feel?)

How can you love yet not accept? Do you love the person, but denounce the actions? It's hard. There are certain things I want to teach my children about this, but how do I do it properly? "Ok, little Johnny, that person is doing something bad, and it's something you should never do, but you should still accept that person and not tell him that he is bad. That is something between him and God." Am I way off base here?

Do you pray for peace in the Middle East?

Among your thoughts and prayers every day, do you pray for peace? Do you pray for peace within? Do you pray for peace among your warring familial tribes (i.e., Aunt Bessie and Cousin Bertha)? Do you pray for peace around the world? Do you pray for peace in the Middle East? I don't.

I pray for peace within all the souls that need it, my own included. I pray for peace "around the world." But I don't specifically pray for peace in the Middle East. I have a hard time with that one. I would love for there to be peace in that part of the world. But I feel that I would be a hypocrite if I prayed for it. I admit, I have read very little of the Bible so far (I'm working on that). But I have read Revelations. And have discussed it with others.

So how can I pray for peace when it is already written that none is coming? Should I still pray for it? Should I preface my prayers with a "I know this isn't going to happen, but..." or a "If there can't be peace in the Middle East, could you at least give peace to the people that live there that don't have anything to do with all this war?" (Sure. What's that? One or two people. All this warring is about religion. Who doesn't have a stake in that?) Or maybe I should pray for the righteous in the Middle East to keep a staunchness of faith in their soul, that they will get through this and be greatly rewarded in the end?

So, should I pray for peace in the Middle East, but with stipulations?

What's Coming Up

I've finally decided to make it a point to write more in my blog. I went through so much with the breast cancer and only posted a portion of it. Kinda left ya hangin', huh? Sorry!

So, this is what's coming up. And, yes, it may take me days, weeks, or even months to catch up. But hopefully I will!

• The "rest" of the cancer story, up through chemo and such
• The next step - my reconstruction
• Two steps forward, one step back: my "emergency" surgery that pushed my reconstruction back a month
• "Questioning my faith..." A completely different (and positive) topic that will be refreshing after all the cancer yuck.
• My new business venture; my next BIG IDEA!!!
• And, of course, writings on my family and friends and such

Of course, now that you know I'm back, I'm sure you all will be glued to the computer, just waiting for my next brilliant post. Because it is really all about me, you know! :-) Ah, blogs...such a genius invention where one gets to write about whatever one wants, which for most people, myself included, is themselves...

Please do keep in mind that I am being sarcastic. As one of my friends told me long ago - "The world doesn't really revolve around you. You're just dizzy." Alright, already. (But, it really does revolve around me. ME ME ME.)

I look forward to seeing comments!

Questioning my faith...

Ok. We have finally got back to church. Good grief. We took off about 6 months. We were either out of town or sick or lazy - "well, we haven't been there in this long", or "we'll go next week." At last we pulled ourselves back out of that slump and are back. What church, did I hear you ask? The Family Bible Church in Marshall, Michigan. I couldn't believe how much I had missed it after we went back a few Sundays ago. (And then, of course, I got sick, so I wound up missing even more...)

This church is awesome. The people in it are REAL. I went to Lutheran churches for years and never got the spiritual uplift from it that I do here. Not to knock Lutherans, but this church - my church - is so open. It's not ritualistic like other churches I've attended. (I'm not talking about sacrifices, mind you.) Everything is not rote. It is new and fresh every Sunday. And, as I mentioned, the people are great. No Sunday-Morning-Christians. Everybody accepted us immediately. No questions. No hesitation. No one looks like they think they are better than you because they have a fur coat that they show off every Sunday...have the front pew every week...etc., etc. My very first impression was that these people were all like me and my family - your every-day-hard-working-learning-about-the-Lord-and-leaning-on-faith kind of people. They all seem to know you - and, most importantly, accept you. It was amazing to find a whole church family that truly "walked the talk."

Anyway...I can go on and on about FBC. And I really do need to, as I never properly thanked Paster Gerten and all the countless others that prayed for me and made food for me and came to see me when I was going through my breast cancer. But that's another post - that whole topic deserves more than one paragraph!

On to the main point of this post: Does the title of this post make you wonder? I praise the church that I attend, but I question my faith??? It's not how it looks. Think positive. I have no questions in my belief that my Lord is my Saviour. But I do have questions about faith. I didn't grow up "in the church." I am still new to so very much in the Bible. I have not read it seven times, like my husband. I have not even completely read it once!

So I want to learn more about faith. FBC is quite a ways away from us, so it makes it harder to get together with others in the Small Group sessions. Getting three kids and a husband out the door in time for any kind of Bible Study just isn't feasible that early on Sunday morning. (Yes - excuses, all.) But I still wanted to learn more. Phil teaches me a ton, but I want to hear from others, too. So I came up with the idea of putting my questions on my blog. (Surely I'm not the only one in the world with these questions...maybe the information I post will help others?!?) I've talked with FBC's Associate Pastor, Kris Tarkiewicz, and he said he would look in on my befuddled writings now and again to help me make sense of things. Well, Kris, the adventure has begun!

The next time you see my posts, check for a "Questioning my faith..." label if you are interested in keeping track. It could be quite interesting. I come up with such varied questions and thoughts that I even surprise myself, sometimes...

My Angel Got Her Wings

Yes, my Anner-Bananer passed away. At the end of (good grief) last April, she just couldn't take any more. I made the heart-wrenching decision to take her in. It was HORRIBLE! I still miss her so very much. She was such an angel dog. She always made me feel that there really is a reason that "dog" is God spelled backwards. She gave unconditional love. She was always there beside me. She was my puppy that I will never forget. I really don't think there will ever be another like her.

I count myself lucky to have had her for almost 12 years. I got her when she was 8 weeks old from a backyard breeder down in Niles. I was teaching a cc:Mail class at Whirlpool back in 1995 when I saw an ad posted for Goldens. Of course, (1) I was not in a position to get a dog (I was renting), and (2) if I did get a dog, it was going to be a male and I was going to name it "Simba." Well, I thought I would at least go take a look at the puppies - all 12 of them. It had been three whole years since I lost Cory, my previous Golden. What a mistake!!! NEVER go look at puppies if you don't "intend" to buy! I got attacked by 11 puppies as soon as I stepped into the little pen they were in out on the grass. They all were on me, each one wanting more attention than the previous. One monster mutt refused to join in; instead, this little instigator zoomed around all the rest and then would crash through the little mob - tumbling puppies left and right. Of course you know which one I picked. Little Miss Independent. The biggest of 12. She was quite the raucous soul! And a mind of her own. She even told me her name. I had her on my lap in my Mustang, driving away, lamenting the loss of "Simba" and wondering what on earth this little thing should be called, when I looked down at her. Clear as day, she told me her name was "Anna." Ok. Anna she was! It even made her registered name easy to come up with. Her mommy was Candy's Classy Casey (or something like that) and her daddy was Sundance Jesse James. So "Casey's AnnaDance" she became.

For the first few months, she probably thought her home was my Mustang. She went with me everywhere - up to see Phil in Lansing, over to Grandma's, even to work. And she had it good. Every day we would share a Schwan's Ice Cream Cone. Everyone loved her at work. She was a princess!

Then we moved up to Lansing. Her new home was a teensy-tiny apartment. She was a perfect little girl, of course. Never barked, never made messes (besides the messes of things she would chew up, like CD cases. Not the CDs. Just the cases. ??? What's up with that?). She remained a secret there for 6 months! All the "locals" next to us loved her. She was so funny. She would "talk" to you whenever you saw her. She would sleep with us on the bed. She would get as close to you as she possibly could whenever she could. Yep - she was a Golden to the core!

She was a beautiful dog. Beautiful feathering. A very petite girl who was 27-inches at the withers. She seemed to get her slight frame from her momma and her height must have come from her 120-pound dad. In her prime, she was 90 pounds. Not a little one by any means. I did try to keep her very slim, though, since she had incredibly bad hips. The vet didn't know how she could even walk. It didn't slow her down, though. I think that's why she loved swimming so much. From 4 months old she was swimming. Her first adventure was right into the waves crashing on Glenlord Beach. She never looked back, even "diving" to pull any and all rocks off the bottom of the lake/river/pond she would be in. She was a nut.

She sure had a good life. "Living" in a car, practically - a convertible to boot; riding to Manitoulin across Mum's, Steve's and Bonnie's laps; swimming, swimming, and more swimming; splashing while she swam and then biting at the splashes - and then barking at the splashes, too; chasing squirrels; going down slides; chasing frisbees and tennis balls; bossing Shadow, Sammy and Wanda around (yes, she even tried to boss Wander around!); talking to Aunt Sherie on the phone; begging for Cheetos; walking down the aisle with my mom at our wedding on Mackinac Island. She was amazing.

She was Phil's buddy and Shadow's owner. She would not listen to Phil for anything. Shadow really thought he was her dog. He wouldn't make a move without consulting her first. Grandma Marge even taught her to beg for Cheetos. A dog that never begged!

Her last day was hard - for both of us. She had been going downhill fast by that point. The cancer seemed to have traveled up her leg. So with only one good leg, she had had more than enough. She made it four more months than I had expected. She had had a hard few days, so I called and set up the appointment a few days before hand. I knew I had to do it that way, or I would never have had the courage to take her in "right then" when I needed to do it.

I made her all pretty that morning. Nice and soft and brushed. She was all silky and gorgeous. Then I took her to the river...where she swam and attacked sticks and rolled in the mud to her heart's delight!

And then we had one last ice cream cone. And she had chocolate. Chocolate and peanut butter. Two scoops. She was just so awesome. It was so hard. But then the time came. I took her to the vet. They came out. I held her as she slipped away. It was very quick. I almost thought she was gone even before they gave her anything! She was ready. And, at last, I guess I was ready, too. So I let her go...

More on the chemo...

Well, I wound up doing four chemo treatments - February 15th, March 7th, March 28th, and April 18th. I never really had any bad reactions (besides the hair loss), but they made me really tired. Each one made me a bit more tired. Phil went with me to all but one; Mom and Erin went with me to the one he didn't go to. It was pretty nice over there - I was in the Mount Clemens General Infusion Clinic. You get to sit in your own room with a TV. Mom and Erin and I watched The Guardian with Kevin Costner. My session got over before the movie, but they let us stay and watch the end!

All the nurses are wonderful! They'll even bring you coffee! It's nice that you get to bring in food. Sometimes we'd get there and I had not eaten yet. I probably would have thrown up if I hadn't been able to do that.

Each time took around 4 hours. I would get a saline drip, then an anti-nausea drip, then a steroid drip, then the Abraxane, then, when that was done, they would flush my port with Heparin, I believe. The Abraxane had to be mixed and then had to settle for an hour before I could get it. They let me call when I was almost there so they could call the pharmacy and have them mix it. It's extremely expensive (over $10,000!!!), so they don't mix it up unless they are certain you can get it right away.

The day after each treatment, I had to give myself the Neupogen shot. Yuck. They cost $40 (after insurance pays for the rest), too! Ouch. I think they worked really well, though. Bren would bring home everything from school and I wouldn't get it. That was nice.