Life And Other Troubles

In this world you will have trouble.

But take heart! I have overcome the world!

John 16:33b

A few months ago Todd purchased a roundtrip ticket from Philly to Durango so I could come visit my parents, sister and brother-in-law in Farmington, New Mexico. My other sister decided to drive out from Fort Worth so we could all hang out together. What was supposed to originally be a pleasant family visit turned into something else. A few nights before I was to fly in, my father fell in the parking lot outside my folks’ apartment, knocking himself out and requiring an ambulance ride to the hospital. Apparently this 85-year-old man is made of steel because he only required three staples in his head. No broken bones, no cracked skull… just a few scabs and an insanely large bruise from the top of his left hip down to nearly his knee.

The problem is that Dad has lost a lot of mobility over the last several years and, while he was doing really well before the fall, this accident set him back quite a ways. Another problem is that he has moderate dementia. Sometimes he’s lucid, sometimes he’s not and then other times he hallucinates. It might be Alzheimers or it might just be regular, plain old dementia. Alzheimers is very difficult to diagnose without an autopsy but the symptoms are very similar. So I say dementia/alzheimers – tomato/tomahto.

A third problem is that my mother, though a sharp and spry 79-year-old, is also only 4’8″ (I won’t mention the inch she says she’s lost as she’s gotten older). Caring for him 24/7 has taken its toll physically, mentally and emotionally and she just can’t do it anymore. At least not without some respite.

Some would call it luck, others coincidence, but my sisters and I know without a shadow of a doubt that Terri and I weren’t scheduled to be here at this exact time by happenstance. We’ve been able to help my mother with the physical aspect of caring for my father and, together with my local sister, Michele, have been able to get some practicalities taken care of. We’ve seen an attorney about how best to protect Mom’s assets and met with Dad’s doctor about what he needs at the moment.

Dr. Burns would have liked him to go to a rehabilitation facility, but that would have required a three night stay in the hospital before Medicare would pay for it. Unfortunately (or so we thought) the hospital only kept him for one night and we didn’t know the 3 midnights rule at that time.

But God, in his infinite wisdom, had this all figured out. Tuesday a hospital bed was delivered to Gary and Michele’s house and yesterday we moved Dad in. I’m not entirely sure when it’s going to start, but Dr. Burns prescribed physical therapy and a few other skilled nursing services and Dad will receive these services at my sister’s house.

He’s already doing much better physically than he was even a week ago and our hope is that, at a minimum, he will get back to the same level of mobility he was at before the fall.

This move and therapy and whatnot is what I think of as Phase I in Dad’s care. What Phase II is we don’t quite know yet. It will depend on how well he does with therapy and how quickly or slowly his dementia progresses and, well, a whole host of factors. Not to get all Scarlet on you, but I’ll think about that tomorrow.

I can’t write about this without bragging on my friends for a moment. I’ve had close to a bajillion people praying for my family the past week. Or maybe only a bunch. I’m not too good at math. Anyway, I have felt the power of those prayers on a daily, sometimes hourly basis.

When Todd and I went through the Great Cancer Debacle of ’05, God provided this precious pearl of wisdom: Pray for joy and laughter. Regardless of your circumstance, pray for joy and laughter. So at some point while requesting prayers I prayed for wisdom and courage, but also for joy and laughter. God has provided in abundance.

Please understand this has been an emotional week full of tears and anxieties and anger and unacceptance and, well, you get the idea. BUT it has also been a week full of happy reminiscences, delight in being together, pride in our ability to do what we need to do and, my absolute favorite of all, laughter.

Let me just give you a small idea of what’s gone on around here. For those of you who know my dad you’ll easily see Earl in these examples.

Terri, Mom and myself were watching a program on bullying. My father said something to my mom and she said, “It’s a show on bullying.” I was sitting in front of him and he said:

“I’m being bullied by a bunch of girls.”

********

I got up with the intention of: 1- going to the bathroom; 2- eating breakfast; and 3- brushing my teeth. Instead I went to the bathroom and then brushed my teeth. It wasn’t until I walked out of the bathroom that I remembered my original plan. I looked at my dad, smacked my head and said, “I’m losing my mind, Daddy!” He said, “Join the club.”

********

Mom and Dad were watching the Gaithers and Sue Dodge was on. My parents kind of know her and Dad was trying to tell Terri and me that her husband was “that Baptist pastor.” But what came out was “that bastard pastor.” Extreme hilarity ensued.

*****

Mom: Do you want vanilla ice cream?

Dad: Yes. And I would like butterscotch on it.

Mom: We only have chocolate syrup.

Dad: Well what I really want is chocolate on my ice cream.

****

After helping Mom give Dad a shower, getting him dressed and then out to his chair, he fell into it with a big sigh. I asked how he was.

Dad: I’m turd. Tired!

Me: Did you say you’re a turd?

Dad: (smiling) You noticed how fast I changed that.

******

Mom: (to Dad) You can go pee and then we’ll get your jammies on and after that you can go to bed and sleep alllllll night.

Dad: (dryly) Optimist.

******

Mom: (to Dad) Relax.

Me & Terri: Relax! Don’t do it!…

Mom: (to Dad) Your girls are silly.

Dad: My girls were good girls while they lived at home.

He will once again fill your mouth with laughter

and your lips with shouts of joy.

Job 8:21

Setting The Irish Record Straight

Seeing as how it IS St. Patrick’s Day and I am known for my abundance of completely useless knowledge I thought I’d throw them together.

So you know how we’re supposed to wear green on St. Patrick’s Day to celebrate our Irish heritage whether we actually have any or not? Well, the reality is we should only wear green if we’re Catholic. Protestants should wear orange.

The history of the Irish flag goes a little something like this: The orange represents Northern Irish Protestants and signifies when William of Orange (King William, III) defeted and deposed the Roman Catholic King James, II near Dublin, securing Prostestand dominance (1690). The green represents the Southern Irish Catholics and the republican cause – possibly because of the lush southern landscapes, but more likely because green represents revolution. And the white represents a hopeful truce between the two.

Now, seeing as how I come from good Scottish come Irish Presbyterian roots, albeit grafted here and there over the last 300 years, I should be wearing orange. But honestly, orange is a hideous color on me. I’m much better suited to a minty green or heathery sage.

As Todd would say, BAM! I just dropped some knowledge on you!

Aren’t you glad you asked?

This Week in Review

No, I have not received my new computer yet. No, I am not typing this on my phone. I’ve hijacked Katie’s computer until I get my new one next week. Shhh.

I have a full plate today, but thought I might throw a few words up on the page while I have a minute or two. Taylor came home for spring break last Saturday. It’s been an enjoyable visit. I even took Wednesday off just so I could hang out with him for a bit. It was a glorious day and he and I went on a walkabout on one of our local trails. It was a beautiful walk and we just chatted and chatted and before we realized it, we’d been walking nearly an hour. One way. Which meant we had to walk back that same distance. All said and done we were on the trail about an hour and a half and our round trip mileage was somewhere between 8 and 9 miles. THAT translated into 7 Weight Watchers activities points so I had pie that night! All around great day.

Yesterday he drove about 2 hours to Carlilse where he met up with his girlfriend, Shelby, and her grandmother. She lives in Pittsburg and is spending the rest of the break with us. Shelby. Not her grandmother. Todd and I spent an enjoyable morning with them, getting to know Shelby a little better and drinking coffee. Not in that order.

Today they’ve gone into Philadelphia and tomorrow they’ll head back down to Lynchburg. And then Sunday I’ll be wishing it was closer to Easter so we could go down there and see him again.

Speaking of Weight Watchers activities points and all that, I am continuing to go down. Slowly, but surely, and that will work for me. I even pulled a pair of pants out of the back of the closet this morning just to see if they might almost fit. Guess what! They fit!! Perfectly!! Except they’re too short. But I’m okay with that. With spring trying to spring I now have a new/old pair of crop jeans!

On a sad note, my mother’s brother, better known to me and my sisters as Uncle Del, passed away earlier this week. He lived in Fresno with my Aunt Thea and I remember how excited I would get when they would come visit us in Southern California or when we would go visit them. They have two sons so Uncle Del was a bit protective of me and my sisters. The first time he met Todd he told him he couldn’t date me until I was 30 and asked if he had a problem with that. Todd probably said, “No, Sir” (with no intention of not dating me – smart man) and then we spent the evening playing Hearts with Del, Thea and my parents. Much laughter ensued. Of course, Uncle Del kept up the no dating thing throughout.

Here’s a picture that his grandson, Brian, scanned and posted on my Facebook Wall. It was taken in 2004 on a family get together in Durango, Colorado, which was the last time I saw Uncle Del. It’s now one of my favorite pictures. The man with the beard is my dad and the other man is Uncle Del. Brothers-in-law for nearly 59 years and two of my most favorite men. Don’t they both just say “huggable”?

As sad as it is to lose someone you love, I’m thankful he is at peace and breathing easy now. I also know I’ll catch up with him some day. Maybe we’ll play a rousing game of Hearts for old time’s sake. I would take this a step further and say maybe Jesus would play, too, but I think he probably has an unfair advantage. You know, being the Christ and all.

This Just In

I am writing this on my phone because I no longer have a working computer. It crashed last night. Nothing spectacular or dramatic, no sparks or horrible sounds. Just a few flashing lights, a little whir and then nothing.

Todd and I ordered a new one tonight. I wasn’t keen on paying for another laptop. I was actually hoping to wait until I could afford a Mac, but no such luck. I’m going to suffer enough withdrawals as it is while waiting 3 to 5 days for the new computer.

Don’t expect another post until after the new toy gets here. Writing a post on the phone is for the birds!!

Weighty Matters

Way back in November I finally decided I’d had enough. Enough of wearing a size much-too-large. Enough of feeling sluggish and uncomfortable. Enough of self-loathing every time I actually looked in the mirror, not just quickly glanced. And photographs of myself? Fuhgetaboutit. So I joined Weight Watchers.

A few years ago I joined to shed the pounds I had gained on chemo and various other medicines that were not conducive to maintaining a slim figure (or in my case, a slim-ish figure). The problem was that my body was still having strange issues which required me to take a hormone suppressor and steroids – neither of which are friendly weight loss tools. So after a week of staying within my points and walking and knowing I had lost, only to find out at the meeting that I had actually gained, I quit. I cried too. I hate crying. Especially in public.

So after a few years of trying this and that with little to no effect I finally decided to try it again. I would have to say that starting Weight Watchers right before the holiday season may not be the best time to start. I lost 6 or 7 pounds, only to gain 5 of it back during that time. So maybe it was a good idea, otherwise I may have had that extra 5 to lose.

After the holidays and getting my mindset back on track – and it really is so much about mindset – I got to it again. This past Tuesday I received my “First Ten Pounds” ribbon. The grin that went from ear to ear completely obliterated any leftover humiliation from my crying episode from a few years ago. So now I need about six more of those ribbons and I’ll be good! When I stop and think about all I have to lose I could easily give up because it will take forever. So instead I’m all about these little mini goals. If I show up on Tuesday and have lost 1/2 pound then it’s a good day. (Especially because I’ve not had a great week – too many social events and all that.)

Still, I can’t wait for my next ribbon! My first ribbon looks a little lonely on the fridge.

Reading and Such

I’ve read two stellar books in the last week and I just had to share! Funny enough, both carry the theme of unimaginably oppressed women, however, they are nothing alike.

The first book I read was “Pope Joan” by Donna Woolfolk Cross and was fascinating. Here’s a synopsis:

For a thousand years, her existence has been denied. She is the legend that will not die–Pope Joan, a controversial figure of historical record who, disguised as a man, rose to rule Christianity in the 9th century as the first and only woman to sit on the throne of St. Peter. In this riveting novel, Donna Woolfolk Cross paints a sweeping portrait of a heroine whose strength of vision led her to defy the social restrictions of her day.

Brilliant and talented, young Joan rebels against medieval laws forbidding women to learn. When her older brother is brutally killed during a Viking attack, Joan takes up his identity and enters the monastery of Fulda, where she is initiated into the brotherhood in his place. As Brother John Anglicus, Joan distinguishes herself as a great scholar and healer. Eventually she is drawn to Rome, where she becomes enmeshed in a dangerous web of love, passion, and politics. Triumphing over appalling odds, she finally attains the highest throne in Christendom, wielding a power greater than any woman before or since.

But such power always comes at a price…

Pope Joan is a sweeping historical drama set against the turbulent events of the 9th century — the Saracen sack of St. Peter’s, the famous fire in the Borgo that destroyed over three-quarters of the Vatican, the Battle of Fontenoy, arguably the bloodiest and most terrible of medieval conflicts. This masterwork of suspense and passion brings the Dark Ages to life in all their brutal splendor and shares the dramatic story of an unforgettable woman who struggles against restrictions her soul cannot accept.

They made a movie of it in 2009 and yesterday after church I decided to see if I could find it on On Demand. Guess what! I did!! In fact, it was getting ready to come on so I hit record. I thought it was kind of funny that they were showing it twice, back to back.

Later in the day Todd and I decided to watch it. The movie did a great job of sticking close to the book. I mean, there were some changes here and there, but overall it was very good. Except…

… it was actually a two part movie and I only taped the first half. NOOOooo… So we checked the menu again and found out it will be shown again in March. IN MARCH! Poor Todd. At least I know how it ends. But he has to wait two more weeks to find out.

The second book I read this past week was A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini. And when I say “this past week” what I really mean is today. I started it this morning. I finished it this afternoon. It was a glorious Monday holiday. The synopsis:

A Thousand Splendid Suns is a breathtaking story set against the volatile events of Afghanistan’s last thirty years—from the Soviet invasion to the reign of the Taliban to the post-Taliban rebuilding—that puts the violence, fear, hope, and faith of this country in intimate, human terms. It is a tale of two generations of characters brought jarringly together by the tragic sweep of war, where personal lives—the struggle to survive, raise a family, find happiness—are inextricable from the history playing out around them.

Propelled by the same storytelling instinct that made The Kite Runner a beloved classic, A Thousand Splendid Suns is at once a remarkable chronicle of three decades of Afghan history and a deeply moving account of family and friendship. It is a striking, heart-wrenching novel of an unforgiving time, an unlikely friendship, and an indestructible love—a stunning accomplishment.

I find it very interesting that these two books, set over a thousand years apart and in such different cultures, were remarkably similar. Women regarded as worthless, especially if they could not conceive a son. Women considered unnatural and heretical if they could think for themselves. Religion twisted and used as ammunition against the fairer sex. Both books raised my ire at the injustice of it all and tugged at my heartstrings for these poor victims of their culture and era.

I think I need a fluffy, mindless romance now…

I’ve Got Something To Say

I hate rocking the boat. I just want everybody to get along. There are some people who thrive on arguing but I’m definitely not one of them. I like serene, not confrontational. But sometimes I just can’t keep my mouth shut. I try. Oh boy do I try. I slap both hands over my mouth and tightly squeeze my eyes shut and try to avert the bomb that’s getting ready to disengage.

This whole Susan G. Komen/Planned Parenthood debacle is one of those times. I’ve stayed quiet (mostly) but the myriad of comments I have read these last few days have distressed me to the point that I cannot remain silent any longer.

There has been so much vitriol spewed by both sides of the fight that the important stuff has gotten lost. If you are pro-choice you can’t begin to understand someone who is pro-life. If you are pro-life you can’t fathom why someone thinks that abortion is okay. And this has clouded everything.

These fiery feelings have lead to false statements and ridiculous accusations and a lot of hate. It all makes me tired and frustrated and sad that people who were at one time part of a common goal (breast cancer issues) are now divided and hurling hurtful and caustic abuse at each other.

Below are just some of the comments I’ve read from both sides of the debate that make me want to scream. I have countered with what I believe to be rational, factual responses with maybe a little bit of opinion thrown in here or there for good measure.

Let me make this clear. I AM NOT PROMOTING SUSAN G. KOMEN OR PLANNED PARENTHOOD.

This is despicable, and I’m going to silently curse every time I see one of those stupid pink ribbons. Whatever they may have meant in the past, they now stand for “Let ‘Em Die.”

Why? That’s one of the most ignorant statements I’ve heard. Pink ribbons do NOT represent Susan G. Komen. Pink ribbons represent breast cancer. Orange ribbons represent leukemia. Teal ribbons represent ovarian cancer. You get the idea.

I find this statement hurtful and terribly offensive. While it’s true that I have become weary of all the pink hype, the ribbon still means something to me and to my family. It serves as a reminder to women that they need to be aware and proactive; it serves to inspire hope in those newly diagnosed; it serves as a badge of honor for those who have fought the fight; it stands as a memorial for those we’ve lost – and we’ve lost too many. And to me personally it represents thankfulness that research has come as far as it has and gratitude to all the people who have made that possible with their financial support and the organizations who have advocated for that research.

If SGK will no longer give grants to PP then I will give my donations directly to PP.

You can give to whatever charity you want. That’s your business. But here are a few of my thoughts:

1. Donations to SGK are specifically related to breast cancer. The funds are then divided into six separate categories: administration, fundraising, research, education, treatment, and screening. When you give money to SGK you have no idea what your money specifically is going to, but you do know that it has something to do with breast cancer. By the same token, if you redirect your donations from SGK to PP you have no idea if it will be used for breast cancer screenings. My point here is, if you have been donating specifically for breast cancer something and you’re disenchanted with SGK then donate to a different breast cancer organization or a local facility.
2. PP is not the only organization who gives free breast cancer screenings. In fact there are probably better options simply for the fact that PP offers only breast exams and not further diagnostics such as mammogram and ultrasound. Which means if a woman has a breast exam at PP and something is found, she’s going to have to go somewhere else from there anyway. There are any number of programs for uninsured and underinsured women who offer both screening and diagnostic testing.
3. Just like it’s your right to give your money to whichever charity you want to, it’s an organizations right to give their grant money to whichever research or community health agency they want to.

I will not donate to SGK anymore because they now pay for abortions.
They don’t pay for abortions. They provide funding so a woman with no insurance and no money can get a possibly life saving breast exam. Unless there has been a misappropriation of funds (and I know all about the investigations), grant money is never used for abortions. There is nothing to actually suggest this has ever happened at PP.

That said, if you’re uncomfortable donating to SGK because there’s a chance your donation will help fund abortions, then by all means, donate somewhere else. But please don’t accuse SGK of funding abortions.

I thought SGK was in the business of saving women’s lives, yet they’re partnering with PP and abortions cause breast cancer.
Forget pink. This one makes me see red. There is no scientific evidence to support that claim. Here’s a link to the American Cancer Society which, unless you’re a conspiracy theorist, is in the business of cancer facts. FACTS. http://www.cancer.org/Cancer/BreastCancer/MoreInformation/is-abortion-linked-to-breast-cancer. It’s true there are studies out there which claim to show a link, but their stats are unreliable due to a whole host of reasons which are explained in the ACS link.

This is a real hot topic button for me because when my mother shared that I had been diagnosed with breast cancer with a long time family friend, the first thing she asked was if I had had an abortion. Understandably this floored my mom. When I learned about it I was enraged. First – because it’s the height of rude tackiness. Second – because abortion does NOT cause breast cancer.

If we could find a cure for polio, we can find a cure for cancer.
That is the hope, but to compare polio and cancer is like comparing apples and orangutans. Polio is one virus. One as in singular. Cancer is a mutation of cells and the reasons, causes, triggers, etc. are different for each type and subtype. Not to minimize polio, but it was one cure. Cancer is not that cut and dried.

There’s a cure for cancer. It’s just being kept secret by the pharmaceutical companies, government and organizations like SGK because cancer is such a big money maker.
Really?

SGK’s administrators take too much in compensation. All they care about is making money.
Well… It kind of seems that way to me, too. A friend of mine pointed this out to me, however:

Just an FYI – most directors of big charities get paid big bucks. When charities reach the size like Komen, they are incredibly difficult to administer, not to mention the compliance required to maintain its non-profit status. When you think about all the different tax jurisdictions where Komen has a presence, just making sure all the ‘i’s’ are dotted and ‘t’s crossed to prevent having the 501(c)(3) designation from being pulled is a huge job. The person in charge really needs to be a non-profit expert in compliance. This is highly specialized and demands high pay. Another thing to consider is that certain people get paid highly because they are able to use their connections to bring in many more dollars than otherwise would have been received by the charity.

I think what it comes down to is this – to the average person their salaries are over the top. However, that is an opinion and is relative to each person. Eddie pointed out further:

You will hard-pressed to find CEO’s at companies the size of Komen making less than a million dollars. And, not-for-profits have all the issues that for-profits have PLUS all the non-profit compliance issues.

Only 40%/28%/12% of the donations go to actual charity. The rest goes for administrative costs.
I’m not sure where people were coming up with these numbers, but they’re very inconsistent and way off. According to Charity Navigating (an objective third party who rates charities), 80.5% of what they bring in goes to research, education, screening or treatment. That might not sound like a lot, but when you look at other charities of a similar size that’s pretty much on par.

Planned Parenthood’s PRIMARY mission is to provide low cost/no cost abortions. 75% of its funding goes to this exact purpose.
Not true. Regardless of your position on abortion, Planned Parenthood does provide other services – good services – and abortion is only a small portion of what they do. If you are opposed to Planned Parenthood that’s your business. But don’t skew the statistics.

There were other statements that I took issue with, but writing this post has exhausted me, taken all day, and I’m just done. As I said above, I am not endorsing or promoting either Planned Parenthood or Susan G. Komen and have actually kept my personal opinions regarding the two to myself.

Comments? Great! All I ask is that they be respectful.