Category Archives: Health

Blah, Blah, Blah…

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I feel like I’ve got nothing to say. “When have you ever let that stop you before?”, you might be asking. And you’re right! I’ve never let the absence of something to say stop me. So welcome to today’s installment of Mundane Musings.

Remember a few weeks ago I was all pumped about starting Weight Watchers and I was going to take it one day at a time and yadda, yadda, blase’ skippy? I did great for two weeks. Really awesome. Then there was a dinner and then a birthday and then another dinner and then a barbecue and then a movie AND a dinner and then, well, you get the idea. I’ve totally dropped the ball. Add to that trying to cut costs where we can and you have no more Weight Watchers’ membership.

Like my sister said, why pay someone to tell her what she already knows. I still like the accountability and the tools Weight Watchers offers, but my actions are not making the money worth it. So I’m going to try this on my own and see what happens. I walked on the treadmill for 30 minutes this morning and hope to do another 30 minutes later today. I figure if I’m halfway careful about what I eat and do something for an hour a day then maybe, just maybe I’ll be able to lose some of this.

This whole weight thing can make me very maudlin. (Maybe I should call today’s installment Maudlin and Mundane Musings.) Again, it’s all a matter of focus. When I focus on the fact my Fall weather clothes are tight and the image in the mirror and the discomfort while trying to tie the shoes, etc., I slip into that familiar funk. BUT when I focus on what really matters – my relationship with Christ – then it’s not so bad. I’m sad to say my focus has been a little off. AGAIN. Thank God for my Home Team! They’re like spiritual crack to the junky I am.

Which brings me to another musing. I’ve been busy going about God’s business – working on the women’s website for church. I LOVE it. I have so much to learn, but I’m having a blast. The challenge is exciting and watching this idea take shape is awesome.

That said, it’s so easy for me to think I’m nurturing my spiritual life when I’m doing something like this – some type of service – or listening to Christian music or having deep discussions with friends or whatever. Those things are great in and of themselves, but you (read “I”) can do these things and totally ignore God, fooling myself into thinking I’m doing what I need to.

Okay. So I guess that’s a little confession for you I wasn’t actually planning on making. Onto safer topics and more mundane…

Our weather is gorgeous. I love Fall. Seriously love it. Admire, adore, cherish, embrace, enamor, fancy, idolize, like and delight in autumn. I think we may be done with the 80′s altogether. We may even be done with the upper 70′s. Oh please, from my fingers to God’s ears.

October is shaping up to be a busy but incredibly fun month. Something awesome in every single weekend. November will hopefully be a month of rest. Except my folks are coming to visit and we have a few fun things planned then, too.

Let’s see. What else can I bore you with blog about? OH! Those of you who have been around a while may remember the mysterious skin issues I had the first half of 2007. I saw a couple different doctors and no biopsy, no test, no body could figure out what was wrong with me. Then the problem just kind of went away. Well, it’s back. Thankfully not anything like it was last year, but I do get these terribly itchy welts in the same area for no apparent reason. They they just disappear. It’s the craziest thing.

Alright. I think that’s enough of nothing for now. But I leave you with pictures of Sookie and her BFF Brady. Brady comes over nearly every morning around 9:00 and they play for 30 minutes to an hour. Then they go home and take really good naps! Just like kids.





SU2C

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Todd and I watched Stand Up 2 Cancer last night and I found it emotionally draining. Cancer statistics are staggering. Mind blowing. Unreal. In the United States alone 1500 people die from the disease each day. One person each minute. And yet the means to end this insidious illness are within our grasp. For the very first time I’ve started thinking I may see the cure in my lifetime.

Before I was diagnosed I wasn’t afraid of cancer. It was something that happened to other people. I was young and healthy and there was no reason to think I would end up with it. But I did get it and a year later my mom got it. It changed the way I think and not necessarily for the better. My rose colored glasses shattered and no amount of duct tape will ever fix them.

If only we could find the cure. If we could stop cancer before it starts. If we could obliterate the disease and talk about it past tense like polio and yellow fever. Maybe then I wouldn’t have this niggle of fear in the recesses of my heart. The fear that my daughter or my son or my husband or my sisters or my father, ad infinitum, will hear those same words I heard a little over three years ago.

The program last night was a lot of things – sad, moving, inspiring, exciting. The individual stories tugged on my heart, the stories of children with cancer tore at my soul. How incredible it would be to have a cure and make these stories a thing of the past.

I want a cure. I want it now. I don’t want to have the nagging questions in the back of my mind. Will I get cancer again? Will my daughter or sisters end up with breast cancer? Has my family paid their cancer dues or will we have to ante up again? Geesh. Imagine a world where we don’t have those kinds of worries. How awesome would that be?

Just like everything else, research isn’t free. Which is the point of this particular organization. They talked about how the March of Dimes was started to fund polio research and find the cure. At that time the plea was for every person in the U.S. to send in one dime and that would be enough money for the research. And look what happened. Polio in America is a distant nightmare. This is the same thing.

Last night 100% of the donations went directly to cancer research. I’m not sure if that was just during that hour or if it continues even still, but if you’d like to make a donation you can click on the link above.

***

Some of you also read Michelle at My Semblance of Sanity. She has blogged a lot about a very special little boy named Julian Avery. Julian lost his fight with cancer in January. There was a part last night where Halle Berry, Casey Affleck, Jennifer Garner and Forrest Whitaker read a short piece about different cancer patients and their picture was shown on the screen behind them. All of a sudden there was Julian on the screen and Forrest Whitaker read a piece his mother, Mimi, had written. If it hadn’t already been personal, it sure was after that. Not that I ever knew Julian or his family, but I’d been reading about him and everything he was going through and mourned the day I learned he passed away.

As sad as pediatric cancer is – and it’s the saddest of all forms – there is hope. Hope for a cure. If you can’t pay for a cure, you can at least pray for a cure.

Crossposted at Mothers With Cancer

WOW

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Last night was a family affair at our church’s youth group. My son played electric bass in the worship band, my husband worked the tech booth, I registered the students and my daughter? My daughter blew me away.

We have a large number of kids who come on Sunday nights so the youth is divided into two groups. At 6:00 the junior high kids (6th through 8th) have a worship service and the senior high kids just hang out. At 7:00 they switch. We are in between youth ministers right now and we have these incredible college students who are filling in while we’re looking for the perfect fit. Last night was April’s turn to speak and her topic was worrying.

She had called Katie earlier in the week to ask her if she would be willing to come up on stage and talk about her worries from a few years ago. Katie agreed so last night I stepped in to hear what she had to say. I hate to be redundant, but she blew me away.

Katie will be 14 in less than two months. She has a beautiful singing voice and I’m always amazed when she gets up and sings in front of a bunch of people. But I’d never heard her speak in front of a crowd before. My baby girl was replaced by an eloquent and poised young lady. She said she was a little nervous speaking to the high school kids because they’re older, but you sure couldn’t tell. She seemed so calm and confident and I was one very proud mama.

She told the audiences when she was ten her dad got a job in Pennsylvania so he quit his job in Little Rock. She said how she worried about moving so far away and not knowing anybody. She talked about how her mom got breast cancer before her dad had even started his new job and how she was worried her mother wasn’t going to be around. She said her father came home every other weekend and how afraid she was her relationship with “Daddy” was going to change and not be close anymore. *sigh* So much for a ten-year-old to worry about. But she also talked about how her mom is okay now, how she has great friends and likes it up here, how she hasn’t lost touch with her friends from Arkansas, and how she and her dad are as close as ever.

Apparently nobody told Dad what she was going to be talking about so it caught him totally unawares. Poor guy. I was standing on the opposite side of the tech booth and could hear him sniffing while one of the teenage boys who work in there with him was patting him on the back. Thankfully I was prepared, though it still choked me up. I’m not sure if it was because of what she said or because of the overwhelming pride I felt. Probably a bit of both.

Or maybe it was simply the fact that she’s okay. All the trauma this family has been through and she’s okay. She didn’t come away scarred. She’s a little less naive and a little more aware. But she’s okay. And isn’t that what every mother wants for her child?

Crossposted at Mothers with Cancer

Just Another Oncology Appointment

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I got to see all my friends at the White Russian’s office this morning. I was almost sad when he said, “Everything looks great! We don’t need to see you for another six months.” Not the, “everything looks great,” part. The, “we don’t need to see you for another six months,” part.

I did something a little different today. When the nurse weighed me I didn’t tell her I’d be much lighter the next time she saw me. I’ve said that every single time before and I think I just jinxed myself. So I didn’t say it out loud, but I was definitely thinking it.

The doctor and I discussed changing from Arimidex to Femara because I do have a lot of joint and muscle stiffness, but after I’m up and about for a few minutes I loosen up. He thinks that could be residual from the Taxotere treatments I received nearly three years ago. I think it may have to do with the weight. Most likely it’s a combination of a few things. Since my symptoms are not arthritic-type pains he doesn’t think its the Arimidex so I’m still on that. Which I’m good with because I hate changing medications unless there’s a really good reason.

And how funny is this. He walked in the examination room with a huge smile on his face and asked excitedly, “Are the kids in school yet?” It made me laugh and I answered in kind, “They went back on Monday!” Then I realized he doesn’t get to ask that question very often. I know he has young patients, but I’ve never seen anyone close to my age in there. And I’m not really all that young.

Would you believe I purposely avoided going near Starbuck’s today? I did. Swear and spit. And I didn’t even miss it. I did take an alternate route home and that was kind of fun. I saw this tiny, little sign that said something about “historical” with an arrow so I followed it because I’m a major geek that way (she says geekily proud of the fact). I got lost. But I didn’t mind because it’s a gorgeous day, I had great tunes and the scenery was beautiful. I’m not exactly sure what the historical thing was, but I enjoyed myself and I knew eventually I’d come upon a road I thought I might possibly know. I did.

I would have loved to keep driving around, looking for more historical stuff (it’s EVERYWHERE out here), but I had to come home and let Sookie out. She’s been a little depressed this week with all her people gone so I had to show her some love. On a side note, she’s getting awesome with a frisby! I’ll try to get some pictures of her stealthy self jumping high to catch the disk later this week. Good stuff, Maynard.

Now I need to clean the house and do laundry. Ugh!

I think this may be one of the lamest posts ever. If you stuck it out, thanks for hanging with me til the end.

This Chapter’s Over. Turn The Page

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Yesterday was another pleasant drive into Philadelphia. Little traffic, not much in the way of frustrating drivers, great music and a Venti White Chocolate Mocha from the new drive-through Starbuck’s I pass on the way to the freeway. I drove straight to Penn Tower and found a parking space without the least bit of trouble.

Since I had time to kill I headed up to the Rena Rowan Breast Center on the 14th floor to visit their boutique. I had read about these sisters, one a breast cancer survivor, who started a breast cancer boutique called Faith & Hope in Abington (a Philly suburb). I also read they sell some of their products at the Rena Rowan boutique.

The boutique is shaped a little like a horseshoe. You walk through the doors to see pretty t-shirts, jewelry, car magnets, candles, note cards, and all the “safe” merchandise. As you come to the bottom of the horseshoe there are doors to the back where women can go and try on wigs or bras or whatever they need. It was the oddest thing when I saw one of the rooms. My heart slammed into my breastbone as if someone had jumped out at me. As I wound around to the other side of the boutique I came upon the wigs and scarves and bras and prostheses and surgical camisoles. Subconsciously I wanted to peruse the lingerie and pretty scarves – almost like I was in a dream, but my rational self reminded me I didn’t need any of it.

I didn’t panic and run out, but I had to leave. I’m not even sure if I can put a name to the way I felt. A little sad, possibly, but not much. Maybe a little relieved that I don’t need to frequent the back. I think mostly I was surprised. Surprised at what, I can’t figure out. But it was almost like waking from a dream and thinking, “Oh. I don’t need to be here. I should go.”

So I did. I went back down to the 10th floor, checked in and settled down to read my book.

Sitting in the waiting room of a plastic surgeon’s office is quite an experience. I sit there and surreptitiously observe the other patients, wondering if they’re there for liposuction or a tummy tuck or botox or something noble like reconstruction of some type. Of course, I’m not quite so haughty when I’m in there for the laser hair removal. But yesterday was all about the reconstruction so I could judge. (I’M KIDDING, PEOPLE!)

The nurse called me back and asked for my height and weight. I told her 5’7″ and 125 pounds. Not really. That would have been a heinous lie. Sadly I told her the truth and the horrible facts have been recorded for posterity. I put on my lovely little gown and read some more while I waited for the doctor.

As I’ve mentioned several times, University of Pennsylvania is a teaching hospital which means the doctor can’t go any place alone. I was a little disappointed when he only had one resident in tow instead of a legion. Dr. Serletti and I chatted about Caddy Shack for a few minutes, then he asked how everything was “working out for” me and I said fine. Odd choice of words, don’t you think?

How are your boobs working out for you?

Great! They’re a wonder for opening up stubborn pickle jars!

After the riveting conversation came the part where I opened the gown and posed for pictures. “Oh yeah,” he said. “They look great.” Geesh! It all sounds so seedy! And it surely doesn’t sound very professional, but I promise it was all so very clinical – even with the camera and the other guy in the room. (I shudder to think what kind of perverts are going to find this blog now.)

The entire “exam” lasted about 10 minutes. He checked out my abdomenal scar as well and liked how it had healed. So I am now officially released from the plastic surgeon’s office. Time to recondition my Pavlov’s response – no more flashing my girls for just anyone in a lab coat.

It seems kind of weird. This has been my life for the last year-and-a-half. What excuses will I have to drive into Philadelphia now?

On my way home I stopped off at the Valley Forge Barnes and Noble and met Cristie there again. Of course, the discussion about my doctor’s appointment lead to another one of those discussions. I love how she makes me think (even if I prefer not to) and I’m going to write about yesterday’s discoveries later.

I’m interested to see what the next chapter will be about. I only hope it will provide as much blog fodder as the reconstruction did!

***

Here’s another post at MWC.

Stubborn Is as Stubborn Does

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I never used to think of myself as stubborn. I was an easy going, laid back kid who most of the time never had to have her way. I was usually happy to do whatever my friends wanted to do. It wasn’t until I had Taylor that I realized “stubborn” comes in all shapes and sizes.

When we took him for swimming lessons around the age of four or so he wouldn’t do what he was told to do. There was no amount of cajoling or sweet talking or even harsh words to get him to put his head in the water, even if he did think the instructor was pretty. He was, and is, laid back and easy going. He doesn’t have to have his way all the time. But I can guarantee he’s not going to do something he doesn’t want to do.

Yesterday morning I asked Todd if I was stubborn. Without a moment’s hesitation he answered in the affirmative. I was shocked. I think I probably sputtered. At the very least I imagined he would have waged a war in his head before speaking.

Do I tell her the truth and risk her wrath? Or do I lie to appease her and make her happy?

With no thought to the safety of his person he just blurted out, “Yes.” A pretty brave, if not stupid move, if you ask me. He did go on to explain the difference between being stubborn and being spoiled. I’ll give him props for saying I’m not spoiled. (Though, truth be told, I AM spoiled, only because he’s made me that way.) But he said I’m stubborn because if I don’t get my way everybody knows about it.

EXCUSE ME??? I told him he has no idea how many times I don’t push the issue of what I want or how I think things should be. And frankly, when I do make an issue of something it’s usually because I think people are being selfish.

So then I asked if he thought he was stubborn. Instead of answering he said, “Wait a minute. This is supposed to be about you and not me.” O contraire, Mon frère. I was the interrogator and already had my list of questions prepared.

This time he responded in the negative. Again, I sputtered. He justified his answer by saying he can be stubborn at work, but not usually where the family is concerned. More sputtering and waiting for him to smile and say, “Just kidding.”

What I came up with is we’re both stubborn in our own way. I’d love to say he’s way more stubborn than I am, but I’ll concede that we’re each just as stubborn as the other.

There. In light of the fact this is my blog and I can say anything I want to, I believe that was very magnanimous of me.

Moving along…

Taylor may look like a blond version of his dad, but he acts like me in a lot of ways. His penchant for rationalization, for instance.

It’s called home work. Work you do at home. The teacher never said we had to hand it in.

If I wait another three days there will be more grass to mow, making it more worth my time.

Why do I have to watch the dog? I told you before we got her I would like a dog, but I was too lazy to be responsible.

Totally exasperating, and yet I get it. I rationalize everything. You’ve probably figured that out if you’ve read my blog for any length of time. I am the Queen of Rationalization. Not something I’m proud of, though it is a skill.

Yesterday morning I curled up in the big green chair with a cup of coffee and told Todd I was going to whine for a bit. I was just going to get it out and then be done with it. He was very gracious about the whole thing, wonderful (but stubborn) man that he is. My “bullet list” went something like this:

* I’m tired of my back hurting every morning when I wake up, making me sometimes get out of bed before I’m really ready to.

* I’m tired of the stiffness and walking like my grandmother when I get up after sitting for just a short while. Actually I never saw my grandmother walk like me.

* I’m tired of my feet hurting before I’ve even stood on them for the day.

* I hate that I need to be more diligent about taking calcium and getting exercise for my bones. My oncologist told me I WILL get osteoporosis before my time because of the medications I’ve been on and the lack of estrogen.

* I hate that I love good food as much as I do.

* I hate that I don’t like exercise like I did when I was younger.

What I hate the most is how stubborn I am about all this. I’m sure you all are getting tired of reading this recurring theme, but as I stated above – it’s my blog. I have carte blanche with what I write. And trust me. If you only knew the posts I’ve written in my head and chose to keep there you’d welcome my consistent complaining.

It’s like I have scales in front of me. In one tray I put “backaches”, “stiffness”, “joint pain”, “sore feet”, “osteoporosis”, “discomfort” and “overall health” and in the other tray I put “yummy food” and “inactivity”. The first tray far outweighs (pardon the pun) the other and I didn’t even put in the vanity phrases such as “fat clothes” and “depressing photos”.

I just don’t get it. Why am I so stubborn? Or maybe I’m just spiteful. I know I would be so much better off if I would eat better and exercise. And it’s even more important with my history. A better diet and activity could prevent or head off so many problems and it can also alleviate so many other issues. I’ve been through enough, thank you very much.

So why don’t I just get over myself and do what I know I have to do? It’s about so much more than what size I’m wearing or a number on the scale. It’s all about being the healthiest me I can possibly be and being around long enough to watch my grandchildren become parents.

Of course I’m spewing all this out only five days before our vacation. If you think I’m going to take all this to heart while I’m in Hawaii you are daft, man! Am I rationalizing? Probably. I’m okay with that, though.

It’s all about changing the way I think. And getting rid of my spiteful, stubborn self. I’ll think a lot about that while I’m lying on the beach. Maybe I’ll be inspired there and when I get home BAM! I’ll start training for the Iron Man. It could happen.

Plain and simple, I don’t understand how I could go through surgery and chemotherapy to be healthy and yet I can’t make myself stay away from fattening, sugary foods for any length of time. I allowed people to pump poison through my veins and yet I can’t make myself walk for 30 minutes every day. Eating right and being active is so much easier than going through treatment. So what’s my deal??

To round out this post, my deal is that I’m stubborn and I rationalize everything! Guess I know what character flaws I need to start working on.

I don’t think I like this self-realization stuff.

Where’d I Go??

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A few weeks ago I posted about our upcoming trip to Hawaii (Road to Paradise). I complained about being overweight, but said I wasn’t going to worry about it. Oh, how I wish that were true. It may have been my intention, but there’s no way around it. It is on my mind. Not that it will ruin my vacation because I know it won’t. But it’s still there.

I had an interesting (if not very common with women) conversation with my friend, Terri, on Sunday. She had asked a friend why this friend never told her she was fat. Her friend responded, “I don’t see you as fat.” And she’s not fat! But her perception of herself and our perception of her are very different. How many people do you know whose physical appearance has been transformed when you get to know them? Pretty soon you see their spirit and not them. (Though I confess to noticing pretty clothes and nice hair).

But I don’t trust others to see me that way. I certainly don’t see me that way. I look in the mirror or at a picture of me and all I see is a person I don’t recognize. I want to scream, “This is not me!! I am NOT this person!!”

I had gained the majority of my weight before I moved to Pennsylvania so this is all anyone here knows. I told Terri that I feel like nobody up here knows the real me. Not one person has made me feel judged on my appearance, and yet for some reason I think about it.

I’m a very open and honest person. I don’t know how to be otherwise. There are certain things I may not talk about, but for the most part I’ll tell you anything you want to know. And stuff you don’t want to know, as evidenced by this blog. Terri said, “Oh, we know the real you.” And I know she’s right. This is me. The real me.

The stupidity of these thoughts is epic. I have made wonderful friends up here, both in church and in the neighborhood. They see through my physical appearance and like me for who I am. And what kind of arrogance do I have to think I’m the only one who likes people for their insides, not their outsides?

I’ve always said if someone doesn’t like me because of the way I look then I don’t want to be their friend anyway. Why would I want to hang out with someone that shallow and petty? And I truly mean it. So why do I care??

Thankfully this negativity doesn’t consume me. Oh, I probably think about it more than I should, but it doesn’t keep me from being happy. I know where my joy lies and it certainly isn’t in what size clothes I wear.

Maybe I’ll lose the weight someday. I would like to be healthier and I’m pretty sure I would feel better. But I wonder what I’ll think about then.

***

I have a new post up at Mothers with Cancer.

What Do I See?

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Back in my 20s I started having trouble reading street signs and bumper stickers and license plates. A trip to the eye doctor confirmed I was slightly nearsighted and glasses for distance were prescribed. My driver’s license reflected this so when it was time to renew at 35 I decided another trip to the eye doctor was in order. My glasses just weren’t doing their job anymore and I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to pass the eye test.

After the exam the doctor told me he had good news and bad news. The good news was I had 20/20 vision and I no longer needed glasses for distance. Silly me! I thought I needed a stronger prescription because things were getting a little blurry with my current lenses. I was feeling a bit smug here because, well, I was aging, but my eyesight was getting better. What a nice little birthday present for me!

The bad news, however, was that I was on a pendulum swinging from nearsighted to farsighted. He told me I would be back to needing glasses at 40. Well, somewhere around that time I noticed the print in my books was getting smaller so I bought a cheap pair of reading glasses at Walgreens. Lately I’ve been thinking how nice it would be if my arms were just a little bit longer.

So yesterday Katie and I both had eye exams. We thought Katie was nearsighted because she has trouble seeing the board at school. When the eye is looking at something close the muscles around the lens contract. When the eye is looking at a distance the muscles relax. Katie’s muscles aren’t relaxing like they should and that’s why she’s having a hard time seeing the board. So she’s been prescribed reading glasses in an effort to keep those muscles more relaxed. Interesting, isn’t it?

As for me, I still have 20/20 vision. Yes, unless there’s something wrong with YOUR eyesight, you read that right. When I want to I can read the fine print. The problem is I have to work too hard to do so. My cheap plastic reading glasses help a little, but I’m going to get good reading glasses and give my eyes a break. I hope this will step up my reading a bit. I’m only on my 10th book of the year, down from 28 books the same time two years ago (which was down from my pre-cancer reading days when I ignored my family and responsibilities just to finish a book). I do wear out faster and I think I’m probably exhausting my eyes. So who knows! Another month and I may be back to ignoring my family and responsibilities again!

Katie and I both had our eyes dilated and thankfully we live fairly close to the doctor’s office because things were really fuzzy for a while. Which made me think of today’s verse.

Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.
Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

1 Corinthians 13:12

Someday we’ll get to see the completed puzzle with perfect vision. Awesome!

Just a Quickie

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For those of you who prefer a quickie as opposed to a longie (Katybug) – I’M TALKING ABOUT POSTS, PEOPLE! Just a few things.

1. I called my endocrinologist Friday to see what the results of my thyroid biopsy was. She felt horrible because they hadn’t come in yet. She called the hospital but never heard from anyone. I told her I really didn’t care but everyone else did. She doesn’t work on Mondays so she called me today to say the results were fine. So there’s that.

2. Taylor has an interview with the local grocery store tomorrow. He even got a hair cut yesterday so as to make a decent impression. I will be very surprised if he doesn’t get hired because they are desparate for employees. Still, a prayer or two wouldn’t go unappreciated…

3. Sookie is still cute. She met our neighbor’s puppy, Brady, yesterday. We got them both from the same rescue shelter and the owner thinks they may have been at the same foster home. Whatever the case, they were hysterical. They thoroughly enjoyed playing with each other. Brady’s mom, Laura, and I will be planning more play dates.

4. I have a few serious things to blog about – not serious, but you know. Serious. As in not frivolous. I just have to actually take the time to get my thoughts from my head to my computer. Don’t hold your breath.

5. That’s all folks!

My Sacrifice

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As I pulled a reheated cup of coffee out of the microwave this afternoon the handle painfully burned my palm and fingertips. I’m afraid I muttered a less than righteous expletive as coffee splashed all over the counter and floor, but I did manage to keep the cup from crashing on the linoleum. I also saved the majority of the coffee and am enjoying it as I type.

Right before this incident I had decided to blog about this morning in an effort to bring a little sunshine into the otherwise gray lives of my adoring fans. And by gray I mean cloudy. The Weather Channel said it was cloudy where both of my fans live.

The slightest touch to my finger pads sends excruciating pain shooting up my arm, rendering me nearly unconscious. And yet here I am, typing away. For you, my dear readers.

If that’s not sacrifice, I don’t know what is.

The annual community Easter egg hunt was this morning at church. Taylor had to be there at 9:00 and I was supposed to help as well. But I woke up this morning with left-sided congestion and an itchy sore throat. That alone wasn’t enough to keep me home. The fat and fuzzy tongue, however, was. All my colds I’ve had these last several months have apparently whittled my immune system down a bit again. I know it’s not terribly bad, but I didn’t think it would be wise to hang around upwards of 300 little kids with as many runny noses.

We stopped at Wawa on the way to church so I could pick up milk and donuts for the homebodies and breakfast for Taylor. This is how he secured our purchases:

They made it the rest of the way to the church and then home without incident.

I’m starting to feel faint. A body can only take so much pain. I’d better lay down for a physically healing nap. I just felt it was important to get this news to you first and to let you to know I put you all before my own needs. Because that’s the kind of girl I am.