Here we go!

Okay, so we start chemo again on Thursday. This time with a slightly different chemo cocktail. My Doc thinks that maybe this one will work a little better to get my blood level numbers down a little more and maybe give me a longer vacation after we are done. He is hoping for 4 rounds, every three weeks and that may be all we have to do this time, but we'll see. This new drug is much stronger. I am, comparatively speaking, in much better shape than most of his patients. He thinks I can handle it physically. The side effects will be stronger as well and chemo makes you feel like shit. But its not that bad. Queasy, achy, tired... I can handle it. I am just going to need to rest a lot more. And keep a happy frame of mind. Its a challenge. Am I up for it?? Yep.

A long time ago, I had a baby boy. He was perfect in every way. It was a great pregnancy. I was healthy as a horse and didn't take so much as a Tylenol through out the entire ordeal. It was a natural child birth too. Just perfect. A couple of weeks after he was born, he became very sick. He'd picked up an airborne virus, probably in the hospital. He developed encephalitis. The infection had settled in his brain. He lived for three years. A few weeks after he died, I received a letter that I will never forget. It was anonymous. It was several pages from some religious wacko telling me that I had done something so horrible in my life that I needed to repent for and that was why God was punishing me in this way. This is a prime example of why I have been so turned off to "religion" for so long. I don't need to "accept Jesus Christ as my personal savior" because I believe that 2000 years ago, before Jesus, there was still spirituality. There was and still is an energy that connects us all as one. Don't get me wrong, I love me some Jesus, but I love all religions, all teachers.      

My son was a gift. I was privileged to have had him in my life. To have him choose me as his mother and whose love still keeps me going on a daily basis. He is still very much with me. It took me a while, but I got there. It wasn't a punishment at all but a very precious gift. Greater than anything I can think of.


Now I have another privilege. It is not a damnation but a blessing. You know you are going to die but you don't realize it as much as I do. I am a little bit more awake.

I am a little less concerned with meaningless, material things and more with the real stuff.
Honesty, integrity, respect, grace and love.
This is a privilege. A blessing to have and a relief too. I waste less energy on the fluff and focus more on the real deal.
Of course I get mad. Mad as hell at times. Made as hell that others don't get it. I want to beat them over the head and say, "Hey dummy, why don't you wake the hell up and stop taking everything for granted!!" But I work on myself. I send love to the ones that really piss me off. And I double up on the ones that never do.


This little baby was born waaaaaay early.  His mommy was in a car accident and they and to deliver him. I can't remember the exact details but he was about 2.5 months early and I believe he weighed less than 1 lb. He is perfect and adorable in every way. And his mommy is too. I see him as a blessing. His mommy must be a pretty special person to have been handed this to deal with.
Its all a matter of perception.



I love you so much. And I always will.