Saturday, May 30, 2009
Now I have another question. Why did I feel like a jackass? They were valid questions. I've really got to snap out of my self conscious, bumbling, easily embarrassed manner of dealing with this. After everything, I'm surprised that I still have to have these conversations with myself.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
I also charge my batteries for next week. Tomorrow morning, I'll pull these and put two more on. These batteries run my traps.
Once I was working and a guy rode by on a motorcycle. He stopped to see what I was doing. He was visiting from Baltimore, and he was very interested and interesting. As we were heading off in different directions, he said, "You seem to enjoy your job a lot." "Yes," I said, "I think I have one of the best jobs around." He looked around the woods and said, "Well, I have to say, I really love your office." It made me laugh.
Not all days are like yesterday. Sometimes I have to play inside.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
This car looks pretty heartstopping doesn't it? The picture was taken out behind the high school. The seniors will be graduating soon. The car was towed in and set in the parking lot, a reminder to celebrate sensibly. See the blood on the door? There was blood on all the seats, and a dark stain on the floor by the front passenger side. Creeped me out. I couldn't help but say a prayer for the people who had been in that car. Side note: some parents provide the alcohol for their kids' graduation parties. They think that 'kids are going to going to drink anyway', so providing them a safe place to get drunk is the sensible thing to do. I don't believe in that. I think it is enabling kids to make the wrong choice. Providing alcohol to minors will also get your ass in a lot of trouble, jail even.Here is an Amish buggy. I wanted to take a picture of the mother and the little boy and the little girl with her. They were wearing sunglasses with round florescent frames. Mama had green, the kidlets had orange. It looked so out of place with their bonnets and wide brimmed hats, and their somber clothing. I actually did not think that they were allowed to wear bright colors like that, but the kids were so cute that they made me laugh. I did not take a picture of them, so as not to give offense.
See how black the buggies are? They are impossible to see at night. They have flashing yellow strobe lights on each side. It looks like the lights are floating on nothing. You simply do not see the buggy.
The Amish are interesting. They don't own cars, but they will ride in yours. They don't own phones, but will ask to use yours. They don't have electricity, but will use gasoline engines to run their sawmills. A friend of mine knows an Amish man. He roofs houses for a living. He put a roof on theirs not too long ago. Her husband asked him if he would like him to hunt up an air nailer to make the job go faster. The man replied, "No. I think I can come up with one." Turns out he has one. He keeps it hidden. He got in trouble with his sect once for owning a modern convenience. I'm not sure how he got out of it. Probably repented to his group. The thing is, he also owns a cell phone. He keeps that hidden too. My friend asked him why they were not allowed to have things like that. He replied with a smile, "Oh, we're not allowed to be happy." He's a strange charactor as far as the Amish go. Sort of caught between two worlds, the Amish one and ours. He and his wife fight like two cats. Once he commented, 'If the Amish were allowed to have a divorce, I'd have me one of those, too.' I can honestly say that I've never heard of another Amish man quite like him, but I imagine that he's in a hard place. If he leaves the sect, he will be shunned. No one in his family will ever acknowledge his presence again. I imagine that, like any father, he loves his children, and could not bear to think of not being a part of their lives. So he doesn't believe, and and doesn't leave.
Just goes to show you: don't ever think you can judge a book by it's cover.This is an Amish school house. I didn't get it properly centered. The little building is an outhouse. You can just see the side of another one by the telephone pole in the lower right corner. One is for the boys and the other for the girls. You cannot make it out, but there is a black bell they ring for school every morning in the front, on the roof. The other thing poking out of the roof is, of course, the chimney for the woodstove inside.
This is one of 'my' swamps. I once saw a fish stuck in the mud during a dry summer. I waded out to turn him lose, but he thrashed his way out, all in a panic at my approach.This is what I see, every single day. What the pictures don't tell you is that the wind was strong today, bringing in rain. It was muggy and the breeze felt good. You can't hear the birds singing, or hear the bees droning. You cannot hear the distant thunder. You can't watch the clouds move and change shape. I didn't get a picture of the fox I saw yesterday. You can't hear the bullfrogs croaking, or the geese honking, the bellow of a distant cow. It's a shame, really. It was a dandy day.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Treatment ended a month ago. I have my first post treatment appointment with the oncologist on Friday. After a month away from the Cancer Center, I dread going back. As foolish as it sounds, I realize that when I walk through those doors, I am, again, a cancer patient.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Jeanie, dear, they are shoes. Huarache is a Mexican term for a type of flat shoe made out of leather thongs braided, woven, twisted decoratively to form the upper part of the shoe. I have two pair of huaraches and one pair of fisherman sandals that I wear almost exclusively in the summer when I am not at work.
I kicked off my shoes before wading into the creek. Just wanted to be clear.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Pretending that I was BB, I tried for 'artsy fartsy'. Yeah. Didn't work.
We did not see the eagle. Not to be disuaded, we clambored down bank and jumped from one stone to another to a small island of river rock. Still not able to see him, I kicked off my huaraches and waded right out into the water. I was determined. I stood there in the water my camera at the ready. I got distracted a little.
It was about then that he flew farther up the river. Not to be disuaded, we clambored back up the bank and headed followed the river.I got a nice picture of an Amish man's horse. He brings his buggy and two little kids in and sells his wife's stuff along the highway. We did not take a picture of him and his two children, a boy and a girl. The Amish do not believe in picture taking. It violates the rule about 'not making any graven images'. We did not wish to offend. We did cheerfully call out to them as we passed by. They had not noticed the eagle soaring up and down the river behind them.
Lily of the valley.
Dandilions gone to seed are always interesting, but I did not stop to pick one to make a wish on.
The shale bank across the road was kind of cool.
Tim grabbed the camera. By now the eagle had soared high into the sky and was making lazy circles around us. Tim captured the shot. See that little block dot, right there in the middle of the picture?
Right dead center in the middle. That black spot? You don't see the eagle. This ones a bit clearer. He disappeared into the clouds.
BB, I tried. I really tried to make you proud, but the sad truth of it is, really, I suck at pictures. Here, however is the robin's nest on the back deck on top of the step ladder. These birds aren't moving yet. It was a little bit easier.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
First, Tim got hit with it. Then a full month later, it was my turn. I am not talking about the flu. We both turned 50. I was not bothered by it, because I've been comforting myself with the proverb 'with age comes wisdom', so I expected that when I turned 50, there would be some sort of *poof* and I would suddenly be wise, because I've been sort of an oblivious, bumbling fool on a fairly regular basis up to this point.
Tim's a sensible, practical guy, and if something gets screwed up at our house, you can pretty much bet the ranch that Tim was not anywhere around. (You can also pretty much bet that I was.) But when we had his birthday party, we had some of Tim's friends from his days at Sheffield High School. Imagine my surprise to discover that I wasn't the only person who had been young and stupid. Renee, Larry, Denny and Sue had a lot to tell about Tim's young and stupid days. It was great fun to listen to the tales. (This leads me to the very next question...why is it so hilarious when you hear young and stupid stories about your husband, but when your son calls with a young and stupid story of his own, it makes you mad? But I digress.)
Back to the whole 'with age comes wisdom': I was really feeling pretty good about turning 50, and heaven knows, I was sure anxious to become wise. Then our neighbor, Ken, told a story about how he fell off the scaffolding when he was siding his house. He was on the second story level when he sailed off, head first, into some bushes by his house. Peryl thought for sure he was dead until she saw his foot move. He was banged up pretty badly, and managed to scare poor Peryl witless. He told me he felt so bad about it all that he went out and bought himself a hat with STUPID printed across the front. He said that whenever he gets to feeling less then humble, he gets out his hat and wears it around for awhile.
I went away from their house in a pensive mood. If 80 year old Ken still does stupid stuff, what hope did I have of suddenly becoming a sage at 50? I began to worry about it. On the fateful day, I turned 50. I waited all day. Just as I feared, there was no darn *poof*. I was really unhappy about this.
I was walking through the Walmart when it struck me. I am surely wiser than I had been say, 30 years ago. Maybe, instead of a *poof*, wisdom was a process. The more I thought about this, the more certain I was that this was true. I began to compile of mental list of what I have learned on the way:
I've learned that most people do the very best they can.
I've learned that no matter how hard you try, someone can (and most of the time, someone will) find things to criticize. Ignore them.
I've learned that if you hang around a gossip, you can bet your sweet bippy that when you are not hanging around them they will be gossipping about YOU. Avoid gossips.
Prayers get answered, so pray.
True love isn't effortless, but it is sure worth the effort.
Words are not always necessary.
A mother's work is never done. They may be in their 20's, but there will come a time when they'll need to hear the truth. Your job is to speak it. They may not listen, but you need to say it anyway.
When you love your job, it infuses your whole life with joy. Like many folks, I've worked a lot of jobs that I did not love, out of sheer necessity. My advice? Keep your eyes open, looking for a chance to do something you love. If you get a chance to do it, do not hesitate. Go for it.
Laughter is the very best medicine, but a hug follows in a very close second place.
We all have an obligation to help others.
The most important person is not a person at all.
When you listen to a frustrated farmer vent his spleen and he suddenly reaches across your truck to shake your hand, there's not a lot that is more honest than that.
There is nothing more comforting than to spend a winter night wrapped in an afghan with a really good book, and a purring cat on your lap.
I've learned that a dog knows more about love than a lot of people.
Caffeine is good.
You'll know that you are a good mother when you hear it from your grownup kids.
I wandered into the restroom while still mentally compiling my list. I caught a glimpse of a confused man in the mirror while washing my hands. Never at a loss for words, I cheerfully said, "Well, one of us appears to be in the wrong place." At that moment, I caught sight of the urinal. It struck me as such a Debby thing to do...trying to find evidence of my own wisdom while standing in the men's restroom at Walmart. I burst out laughing. The man left. Quickly. I may have frightened him. It would appear, friends, that I will live for a long time, or that I am destined to die dumb. I don't know. I'd like to write more, but I have to borrow a hat from my neighbor.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Anyways, now that I've overcome this lifelong phobia, me and the snakes have set a few ground rules. They have their place, but they need to stay away from the house, because that is my place. Today, I was mowing the lawn. It needed it badly, but the lawnmower decided winter break was not nearly long enough. It extended its vacation by breaking down and requiring a part. Which had to be ordered. From some remote island, apparently. It also happened to get on the slow boat over. So the grass was tall. Anyway, I digress. I noticed a very large snake by the front porch. It was huge.
"Hey," I yelled at Tim from the lawnmower. "HEY!!!!!!!!!!!! There's a big snake out here, and really, I'd do something about it myself, but I'm mowing the lawn."
Tim looked at it, and back at me. "It's not so big," he said. I was a little surprised. I did not know that he was spatially challenged before. I'm kind to the handicapped, so I bit my tongue. This snake was huge, people. Probably a good 30 feet long.
Tim finished visiting with his friend Tom, and came back to the snake. Apparently, it had suddenly remembered that the house is my place, and scooted back to his own place in embarrassment. I was okay with this, but really, I figured that I would have seen a 30 foot snake with a red face beating a retreat.
Later, Tim and I were visiting at the front porch. I glanced over, and (I'm not joking) the snake was curling his way up around the pine tree by our front porch like a redneck Christmas decoration. This got me agitated. Like I said, I'm pretty reasonable about snakes in my old age, but saw right away that this evil creature was absolutely the spawn of Satan. I insisted that my husband do battle with the snake. I would have done it myself, but really, I had a lawn to finish mowing. I ran for the lawn mower. Somehow the lawn seemed just a wee bit more urgent than it did just a few minutes previous.
Tim got a shovel. He made a trip. Holding two fingers up in the air, he made a second trip. I didn't see that one. Two snakes, right there by the front porch, doing the nasty no doubt, procreating right there by the front porch, probably intent on creating a score of youngsters who would spring forth from the snake womb probably 10 feet long. I was just about to finish mowing when I saw Tim moving rocks with the shovel in a quick moving sort of way. A third snake?!!!! A menage a trois?! Dear Lord. Have these snakes no shame?
Later, when I finally dared to shut off the lawn mower, Tim mentioned, "I don't mind them out at the woodshed, or out back, but I don't like snakes all around the front porch. One of them was about 18 inches long."
That man is a machinist, and he cannot estimate length to save his soul. Kinda sad, isn't it?
Say it isn't so! They canceled 'My Name Is Earl'?!!!!! NO FAIR! NO FAIR!
As my friend Dixie would say, "No. There is no fair. If there were, my friend, there would be cotton candy and a ferris wheel."
My Name is Debby. I am outraged.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
-- written by Max Ehrmann in the 1920s --
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
I took a long lunch today, and came home and had lunch with Tim and Cara. After we saw Tim off to work, she and I headed out for a cup of coffee. She was having some doubts about the move last night but today, she seemed much more sure of herself. One of her big concerns was, 'What if you get sick again?' I didn't really know how to respond to that last night. After thinking it over, I had an answer. We sipped on our coffees and talked about this and that. I said, "I want you to listen to something. I do not want you sitting around afraid to go off and do things because I might get sick again. I've already made up my mind that I simply can't allow myself to be overcome with fear and dread. It would be wasting my life. If you do it, it's wasting your life. Neither of us know what's in store, but we both got lives to live, and we need to focus on living. That's what faith is all about."
She fixed me with those green eyes and she asked the question. What she wants is a guarantee that everything's going to be fine, that cancer won't come back. She wants facts and statistics and odds. "Cara," I said. She looked at me with her chin quivering. "Listen to me. At some point, you'll have to deal with the death of your mother. You understand this, right?" She nodded, not looking at me. I have to be careful here. I don't want to lie. She's an adult. Being an adult is hard sometimes. I give her numbers, because she wants them. I give her the facts because she's asking. We sip our coffee and we talk about life. We talk about the important things. I listen while she talks. She listens while I talk. We laugh. We nod. Anybody watching us would have seen a mother and a daughter having coffee together. It was more than that. I watched Cara mature before my very eyes.
Friday, May 15, 2009
The other guy responds proudly, "Yes, that I am!"
The first guy says, "So am I! And where about from Ireland might you be?"
The other guy answers, "I'm from Dublin, I am."
The first guy responds, "So am I! Sure and begorra. And what street did you live on in Dublin?"
The other guy says, "A lovely little area it was. I lived on McCleary Street in the old central part of town."
The first guy says, "Faith and it's a small world. So did I! So did I! And to what school would you have been going?"
The other guy answers, "Well, now, I went to St. Mary's, of course."
The first guy gets really excited and says, "And so did I. Tell me, what year did you graduate?"
The other guy answers, "Well, now, let's see. I graduated in 1964."
The first guy exclaims, "The Good Lord must be smiling down upon us! I can hardly believe our good luck at winding up in the same bar tonight. Can you believe it? I graduated from St. Mary's in 1964 my own self!"
About this time, Vicky walks into the bar, sits down, and orders a beer. Brian, the bartender, walks over to Vicky, shakes his head, and mutters, "It's going to be a long night tonight."
Vicky asks, "Why do you say that, Brian?"
"The Murphy twins are drunk again."
Thursday, May 14, 2009
We've got a junco that has built a nest into the bank along side the entrance to the cellar. She always scares the bejeebers out of me when I walk out the cellar door and she flies straight at me in a frenzy. Isn't it strange that such a little bird would build a nest in the ground?
It's not just the birds procreating. Last weekend, a friend had twin girls, Emily and Molly. My sister will be a grandma for the first time. Her son and his wife's baby was due May 8th. Tim's brother, Norm, and his wife are also expecting a baby any second.
*drums fingers impatiently*
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Unfortunately, she met a man of God. The man of God had children that were nearly her age. He waited until she was 18 and then professed his love. There was nothing to be done. This was a very intelligent girl who knew exactly what she wanted. She was a Godly girl herself. She got married right after high school. Since the man of God lost his church job over this debacle, they were going to start over somewhere else. The man of God would take care of them so that she could go to college.
Well, the man of God's job did not work out for him, so they are back. The young girl works two menial jobs. The man of God has not found suitable work after nearly a year, so he stays home all day and plays video games.
This girl pedaled up on her bike. She's such a hard working girl. I know that she is working her very hardest to make this impossible situation work, sacrificing everything to make a go of it. That is just her nature. I watched her from my truck, and, for an instant, I really itch to slap that man of God.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
An elderly woman lives in that house. Surprising as it is, she lives there alone. She cannot afford the upkeep. The house has fallen into disrepair. The elderly woman travels in the same social circles that she has traveled in for all of her life, but it is a facade. Although she still plays the grande dame, she is not making ends meet. Strangely, she had the outside of the house painted recently. The workmen were not allowed to use a bathroom inside her grand house. The workmen were not allowed to drink from her outside faucet. She was imperious. Sometimes when they showed up for work, she'd tell them to go away and come back in three hours. When someone noticed that a ceiling had caved in, they checked the roof and found that it was in bad need of repairs. The woman didn't have the money to repair the roof, although she had just spent a large sum of money to make sure that house looked grand from the street.
Isn't that sad? Not that she has fallen on hard times. Shoot. That happens to all of us. What is sad that she is unable to adapt to her changed circumstances. In her mind, it's more important to preserve an illusion. What a strange world she lives in, what a strange way to think. I wonder if she is senile, or simply a woman who has been so taken care of for all of her life that she doesn't have a clue of how to take care of herself now that she is alone.
Monday, May 11, 2009
A white haired, balding man with a neatly trimmed goatee and a woman with her reading glasses perched atop of her scarved head stood in the middle of a crowded workshop staring at each other, not really seeing each other, looking back through the mists of many, many years....
Sunday, May 10, 2009
We're currently missing another Mike. Allow me to provide a description: 'Tall, gangly, redhaired, freckled, funny, last seen preaching in his church back in March. Alias: Redlefty. Is undoubtedly in the company of 'Redwifey' aka Jamie, who was last seen discussing poo with Jack on April 12th.
Any one else out there missing a Mike?
Saturday, May 9, 2009
I made a rainbarrel. I came home and planted 10 forsythia and three black berry bushes. Tim went to work, and I simply couldn't stand it. I took a nap. I slept soundly and discovered that my sister had come while I was sleeping. I never even heard her. I slept for two hours. I am still exhausted. Truly have not been this exhausted since treatment.
Friday, May 8, 2009
I was just browsing through old music tonight. Harry Chapin, Cat Stevens, Bob Dylan, Crosby, Stills and Nash, Neil Young. So many. I came upon Gordon Lightfoot. This song brought back memories. I went to the Shipwreck Museum when I lived in Michigan. I had a baby bird in my purse that I was handfeeding, as if three children and a failing marriage wasn't enough to keep me busy. Strange, the things that you remember. I also remember reading about a ship full of cows that sank on Lake Superior years upon years ago. They did not decay because the bacteria that causes decay that does not exist in water that cold and deep. Without the gasses which form during decomposition, there was nothing to raise them to the surface. That is how a herd of cows remains, to this very day, at the bottom of Lake Superior bobbing lightly on their hooves, a bovine ballet of sorts in the dark, cold waters. Strange, the things you remember.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
The reality, though, is a little bit different. I feel a little bit like a child playing hide and seek, crouched in a dark place, the sound of my own heart pounding in my ears. 'It' is cancer. Will 'it' find me again? I don't know. I've got myself in a fairly safe place...treatment is done. I'm mindful of my diet. I'm mindful to stay active. I'm mindful to be mindful. However it is too early to yell 'Hooooooome freeeeeeee' and do a victory dance. I'm not sure how long it takes before a person can do that. How do you know you're safe?
I've been really thinking on people's responses to cancer. I guess that Daria was right. You make the journey. Along the way, you deal with shock, anger, fear, grief and probably a lot of other crap that I can't think of right now. Somewhere along the line, acceptance comes. Each of us stops at the waystations though. Some of us stay angry longer than others. Some of us stay shocked longer than others. Some of us grieve longer than others. We all however, make these little stops on our journey, and finally we get to acceptance. I seem to revisit these waystations, strangely enough. I think that I'm as shocked as I can be, and than *slap* I've discovered something new to be shocked about. I think that I'm beyond being afraid, and then I come across something that scares the living bejeebers out of me. I'm getting to where I need to be, I suppose, just as everyone else dealing with this is getting where they need to be.
I find myself thinking of that woman who spoke about cancer. "Your life will never, never be the same." It sounded overdramatic then, but I'm starting to realize that she was right. There will always be another oncologist visit, there will always be tests. Drugs. I'm physically different then I was. The scars are always going to be there. The differences are not alway a bad thing, mind you. I'm a lot more mindful of the pleasures, the infinate number of 'small' blessings that enrich my life each and ever day. I am aware of the ticking of a clock. If you all stop this very minute and listen, you will hear the ticking of your own clocks. Most people don't notice it until something likc cancer comes along, but once you do notice that ticking, your life will never, never be the same.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
I began to read other blogs about people with cancer. Tonight, for whatever reason, the blogs I came across were angry blogs. 'Fuck cancer!' Anger at stupid people, and their stupid questions. 'WHY? WHY? WHY?!!!!!' One blog basically said, 'I'm mad as hell, and that is cancer, and if you can't take it, leave.' The comments were all along the lines of "You go, girl!" and "Thanks for telling it like it is..."
I went from one blog to another, to another. I can't identify. I don't feel that way now. Although my emotions sometimes got the best of me, I didn't feel that way then, for the most part. There were brief flashes of emotion. It was an emotional time. Once I got angry watching a biker riding down the road on his motorcycle. His long hair flew about his helmetless head, and he was smoking a cigarette as he flew by. It just seemed unfair, and the anger bubbled up. But I came home, went to bed, read for a while and contemplated things. That rage didn't last. Reading these blogs, I kept thinking how much energy it takes to sustain a rage. I just couldn't. My energy was going to fighting cancer. As I flipped through these blogs, I came upon this one, and I quickly skimmed an entry. It was so calm, and lovely. She was so beautiful and matter of fact. Her thoughts seemed to mirror my own. I went back to the beginning of her blog and read all of her entries. I understood her thoughts and I loved her outlook. There were longer lapses in her blogging and I thought "She has thrown herself back into life, and living..." There was one final entry, listing her date of birth. Her date of death. It hit me like a punch. It was so unexpected that I just cried. All I could think of was this...what if you need to be mad as hell to beat cancer? What if wisdom and contemplation and praying are not what, in the end, wins? Just that quickly, the bottom fell out of my stomach.
I am tired, and I am confused, and I am depressed. My shoulder has been aching since mid radiation and it is throbbing now. My hands hurt. Suddenly I want my husband. Suddenly I want my children home, and loud music, and the confusion of all their voices. But my house is quiet, except for the gentle snoring of my big old dog. I decide that I've spent enough time on the computer this evening. I've got dishes to wash.
"I would like to take this opportunity to say THANK YOU to all who prayed, sent well-wishes, had thoughts and concerns and sent your strength my way. I go to my Surgeon in a few hours and hopefully will find out the pathology after my mastectomy. (How much was involved) If it was just localized hopefully I won't have to go through Chemo again. I'm doing very well and hope to get out and about within a few days."
Also want to do a shout-out to yet another woman giving breast cancer her best fight. Lesley lives in Bradford, across the reservoir from me. I just got her e-mail. She's had a bilateral mastectomy as well. Lesley, I'll get to your e-mail this weekend, but I am praying for you. Glad your surgery is done.