tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262599452024-03-06T22:41:03.140-05:00Downeast Yarn HoKnitting keeps me sane when it isn't driving me crazy!Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.comBlogger129125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-87822914059148157672021-09-25T10:08:00.038-04:002021-09-25T10:23:11.021-04:00Seventy is the new...what was I saying?<div class="separator"><p style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="Amazon.com: Oldometer 69 70: Is your odometer running? Do you know someone who is turning seventy on the odometer? Then this Journal is for you, let everyone know you have a lot" class="n3VNCb" data-noaft="1" jsaction="load:XAeZkd;" jsname="HiaYvf" src="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/41GbLpuaJOL.jpg" style="height: 500px; margin: 0px; text-align: start; width: 333px;" /></p><p style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></p></div><p style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;">Today is my last day in my sixties. Tomorrow I cross the threshold into a new decade. Holy moly...how did that happen? How can I be Seventy?</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Seventy year old women are old, like orthopedic shoes and blue hair old. They tell the same stories over and over (ok...guilty!) and complain about their aches and pains to strangers. They shuffle along stooped over, wear adult diapers, and drive at half the speed limit. I can check those off my "not applicable" list.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Neither of my parents lived this long so I don't have a frame of reference from them. My grandmothers seemed ancient at ages I now realize were much younger. So what has changed? Why don't I feel old and decrepit (at least most of the time, anyway)?</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Brendan, my husband, is fond of saying, "The world is passing me by." He seems resigned to the fact that the times-up buzzer is looming. When a fresh-faced young man appeared at the door one day to sell us solar panels for the roof, Brendan abruptly ended the conversation once he heard that it would take twenty years to reach a break-even point to justify the expense. "I won't be around that long," he said emphatically, closing the front door on the startled salesman. Oh, Mr. B! (*sigh*)</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I, on the other hand, intend to stick around as long as I can. There are too many things left to do. Besides, I have enough yarn in my stash for five lifetimes of knitting and I am determined to use up as much as I can! </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I realize that every day is a gift, some better than others. But even the Booby prize days have their silver lining. And those make the Gold Star days shine even brighter: A crisp sun-spilt autumn day, reading The Wonky Donkey to my grandson, an afternoon spent with a friend laughing and enjoying the sounds and smells of the ocean...there are many more of those ahead, I am sure. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">So bring it on, Seventy! I'll take the wrinkles, the sore knees, and even those moments grasping for a familiar name in the vast databanks of memory. Those memory cells are pretty full but there is still plenty of room for new input. You're just a number and mine ain't up just yet! And remember 70 is only 21 in Celsius!</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></p><p><br /></p>Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-82401657654049799202021-07-01T20:13:00.000-04:002021-07-01T20:13:03.049-04:00Into the light<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFA0bXcrbawVhdTKfc4gwx6mBPmraCpGYCNp0TXVhwfG8CjtNmzDeprjtpHRZpJJAZkTmGFDkGhIgtMTXujqkoe4IO7K_xC4Ao0VZT2rgRsu9F7QCO6Msz_-cR5KoRefaMZZ7z/s400/P1050191.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFA0bXcrbawVhdTKfc4gwx6mBPmraCpGYCNp0TXVhwfG8CjtNmzDeprjtpHRZpJJAZkTmGFDkGhIgtMTXujqkoe4IO7K_xC4Ao0VZT2rgRsu9F7QCO6Msz_-cR5KoRefaMZZ7z/w427-h321/P1050191.jpeg" width="427" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">We cautiously poke our collective heads out the door, masks in a back pocket just in case. The sensation of being around other peoples feels strange and, at first, a bit unnerving. With the invisible strength of our vaccine shots we finally dare to do what a few months ago would have been unthinkable: hug our friends and family, plan visits to places both new and familiar, attend get-togethers in celebration and in memoriam and most importantly, learn to live together again.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">There is no doubt that the last fifteen months have changed us both individually and as a society. The common experience of coming through a world-wide pandemic has left scars but it has also taught us contrasting lessons of resilience and fragility. We are not indestructible as a species. But we can harness the tools of science, technology and individual strength, patience and innovation to prevail. We need to embrace the lessons and affirmations of the experience, never losing sight of the high price we paid for them. It truly has been a seismic event in history.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I, for one, can attest to some of the residual effects. I still feel a sense of agoraphobia in a crowded environment. Many other people seem uncomfortable being in public spaces. We all seem to be mourning the many lives lost, the connections disrupted, the families split apart. There is a residual anxiety and, at times, a toxicity clearly evident in society. Rage and tempers flare at the smallest provocation and I have noticed the continuation and even escalation of "it's all about me" episodes. It's almost as if people feel a sense of entitlement to that attitude because of the events of the past year. Perhaps we need to relearn how to get along together, understandable maybe because we are out of practice. Hopefully, with time, we can regain the civility and empathy the pandemic stole from us.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">We each have our own take-aways from the past fifteen months. As an extrovert, I keenly felt the lack of social contact and a busy calendar of activities. But I rediscovered the joy of reading, even venturing into a new genre for me: Murder Mysteries. Thanks to Louise Penny, Julia Spencer-Fleming, Tana French, Elizabeth George and others, I super-sleuthed my way through the Pandemic. And, of course there was my knitting to keep my hands and mind busy. I dug into my stash and produced socks, mittens, sweaters, hats, toys, cowls, afghan squares, shawls, and booties. And I still have a stash big enough for four lifetimes of knitting! I have posted some pictures of my finished products below. Then there was the garden! With unlimited amount of time to devote to it, it thrived last summer in ways I never could have imagined.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The inability to visit with my baby grandson tore at my heart throughout the quarantine. Liam was born in August 2019 and was just asserting his quirky personality when our visits were curtailed. I last saw him in March 2020 when we visited before I started radiation treatments for breast cancer and just before the Covid-19 door shut. We managed an outdoor picnic in August just before his first birthday at an orchard halfway between our homes in Maine and Massachusetts, complete with masks and distancing. In October we met for a picnic in York ME, again about halfway between our homes and again with masks and distancing. My urge to cuddle and smooch that little munchkin had to be stifled. Our first post-vaccine visit was in late April of this year and I savored every minute with that little squirmy-worm in my arms. FaceTime was a huge help, ensuring that Brendan and I were not complete strangers. And I confess to making sure a few surprise packages found their way to him.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Fifteen months of near 24/7 companionship with Brendan was another unique experience and a bit challenging at times. He also has become an avid reader and we are both so grateful for our local library which early-on designed a convenient on-line order system with curbside pickup, initially by appointment. He also threw himself whole-heartedly into jigsaw puzzles, ordering on line in bulk. Over the past fifteen months he completed (or attempted) dozens of puzzles, even investing in a sophisticated puzzle carrier so our dining room and kitchen tables could remain free. We devised a "hands-free" giveaway process using Facebook posts and offering pick up out of a cooler in our driveway when the "used" puzzles threatened to overrun the house. We are opposites in so many ways but we have learned to respect our differences, giving each other space as needed and enjoying shared time doing things we both enjoy. When the walls closed in (for me) we took a number of car rides just to provide some new scenery as needed. Our 45th Wedding anniversary is later this month and we will jubilantly celebrate with a long-awaited trip to one of our favorite inns. We always have much to celebrate but coming through the pandemic healthy and together is near the top of the list. We will also belatedly celebrate my successful breast cancer treatment, now 15 months in the rearview mirror!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Technology helped us through the experience in so many ways. Like many others, I became a ZOOM-er, by necessity. Doctor's appointments, book club meetings, even knitting groups were held in front of the computer. My funniest experience came early on with my first oncologist appointment in May. My doctor (name withheld to prevent embarrassment) is a gifted physician in his field but, being of my generation, has had to adjust reluctantly to modern technology. He confessed early in the call that the technology was a little baffling to him and, sure enough, as he attempted to adjust volume, completely lost the connection. I next saw him sitting sheepishly nearby as a young office assistant reconnected to me and kindly but firmly admonished him "not to touch anything." He was mortified until I assured him that I had done the same thing on my first ZOOM call. We agreed that some of the technology had clearly passed us by! With time, we both became a little more techno-savvy...as long as we weren't asked to deviate from the original instructions!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The Pandemic was a lonely time for so many, especially those living alone. Early on, we "adopted" an elderly neighbor who has lived alone for a number of years. Brendan picked up groceries for her since she was terrified of venturing out. I sewed her a few face masks to use when anyone came to the door and we always cooked a little extra each dinner time to bring to Madeleine. Our visits were short...masked and distanced...but gave us a chance to see how she was doing and gave her a chance to talk to someone in person. We have continued the relationship even though we are now all vaccinated. She's an amazing person with a colorful and diverse background which we enjoy hearing about. It's so nice to be able to sit down with her, unmasked and hear about her interesting life.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">One thing I won't miss is the machinations that went into every encounter that we used to handle effortlessly. Doctor's visits, Vet appointments, Dental cleanings, Dog Grooming, house repairs, Doggie Day Care, house deliveries...all so convoluted in their planning that we dreaded having to deal with them. One of the worst was a mattress delivery on a hot sultry day last summer. We had ordered a new guest bed mattress from the same company we had ordered our master bedroom mattress the year before. In that case, they delivered the mattress, brought it upstairs, installed it on the bed and removed our old mattress. Easy Peasy. Covid-19 threw a major monkey wrench in the works. We were told they could not bring it in the house. We would have to do that ourselves. AND bring it up the stairs to the guest room. So, we wrestled the old mattress down the stairs and out the front door to await delivery (and, presumably, removal of the old one). The scheduler neglected to tell us that not only would they not bring up the new mattress, but they were not allowed to take the old one. So the delivery truck took off, leaving us with two heavy double bed mattresses on our front lawn...one old, one new. We looked at each other, already feeling our backs begin to stiffen up, and somehow managed to get the new one up the stairs VERY slowly and onto the guest room bed. That still left a mattress lying on our front lawn, not an attractive look. After a brief rest, we dragged it around the back to the garage where it remained until it left in a load of yard waste, broken furniture, a dilapidated dog house, miles of old garden hose, and various and sundry other junk, courtesy of "The Dump Guy"...money very well spent. Another Covid-19 adventure!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">So, while we aren't out of the woods yet...the infection numbers are not at zero...I tend to feel as if we have seen the worst of it. The vaccine has been nothing short of miraculous. As a side note, my daughter Meredith has just begun a new job in Cambridge MA working as a Senior Scientist for Moderna so I have full confidence that our future is in the best of hands, regardless of surges and variants. We need to remain vigilant and maintain the protocols recommended by scientists. But I am hopeful that the future is promising.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I don't think there are enough ways to say thank you to the people who helped us through this horrible event. So many courageous individuals put their own lives on the line to help combat the horrific effects of this pandemic. They include First Responders, Medical Personnel, Public Health Officials plus the many people who faced danger in their jobs just by being exposed to the public: retail workers, technicians, educators, care-givers and so many others who did not have the luxury of staying home to ride this thing out. So many paid the ultimate price and my thoughts and prayers go out to their loved ones. The millions of deaths worldwide are a testament to the vulnerability of the human race, even as its ingenuity has proved critical to our survival.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">So let's welcome the return of the light, the joy of gathering together, the freedom to live our lives the way we want. But let's never forget the ones who aren't with us to share the joy.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm7nrJLmgaTrr_7sZO9-RwHeV1AzaesVBe-l9vz8gYk-cntK3dv3CFUeeivzkpJFIAFqlr50VaQ1anqElpXhsfBJ5Boo6AT-28FQyIrnFKIC-pRo3od2TK9_uHl9tLSpqz3EOX/s4032/6DF676F2-B19E-4C4B-9BF9-993B79C7BB4F.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm7nrJLmgaTrr_7sZO9-RwHeV1AzaesVBe-l9vz8gYk-cntK3dv3CFUeeivzkpJFIAFqlr50VaQ1anqElpXhsfBJ5Boo6AT-28FQyIrnFKIC-pRo3od2TK9_uHl9tLSpqz3EOX/w198-h264/6DF676F2-B19E-4C4B-9BF9-993B79C7BB4F.heic" width="198" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_MkYY01RMIUFOk9d5e6KqQxRCo2eUaU5UKc-qw8geCbL2_XsWxoKsWCyMovGmqUPCAxfw9ukjA6MQhzSihjMFTG5TS6OajGpLf9xsllXCn7zII_pF0r9bYWZvdJbZxD2yvgZ/s4032/437EAC7E-FC7E-4B8B-86D7-874EA53BF746.heic" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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text-align: left;"><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /></div><br />Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-25512606400272008642021-03-02T19:44:00.006-05:002021-03-03T10:06:33.689-05:00A Welcome Dose of Adorable<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnbfqtcSpJYVr73G8wIUyTceGq9GZDD5aRHYlZxTe-wbtLnDA0K4mnDv8xbwgw9l8mJcRuzPa_8vFZMDyxcO-bKyzTAWAiKZf3Q_EOlPu5QJE3D7g7Fw03eadO4jqpyhv1y7t9/s2016/Eva+and+foal+at+NEEMSC+2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnbfqtcSpJYVr73G8wIUyTceGq9GZDD5aRHYlZxTe-wbtLnDA0K4mnDv8xbwgw9l8mJcRuzPa_8vFZMDyxcO-bKyzTAWAiKZf3Q_EOlPu5QJE3D7g7Fw03eadO4jqpyhv1y7t9/s320/Eva+and+foal+at+NEEMSC+2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Pictures courtesy of MSSPA</div><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I have written before about my ongoing love affair with the Maine State Society for the Protection of Animals. The work this shelter does for horses, mules and donkeys who have fallen on hard times is often nothing short of miraculous. As a volunteer for the past three plus years I have watched neglected and abused horses regain their joy for life and trust in humans with the doting attention of staff and volunteers. I have seen the lucky ones adopted as companions or even competent saddle horses. Others have settled in to their "retirement" home with the assurance of a life of predictable nutrition, excellent health care and the companionship of loving two-legged and four-legged friends. I have seen some reach their final rest in a dignified and humane manner, mourned by all of us who were privileged to know them and care for them.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">As a non-breeding facility, the presence of a pregnant mare is rare and, yet, we were blessed two years ago with the birth of a feisty foal, Windy River, whose mother, Daphne came to us undernourished, suffering from a variety of ailments and, unbeknownst to us, carrying her precious cargo. She blossomed at the farm and was recently adopted herself. Windy River has remained with us, a happy, mischievous two year old, totally spoiled by staff, volunteers and visitors.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">This past month we had a second miracle. Eva, a young Arabian mare was brought in with Emir, a young Arabian stallion who quickly became a gelding as farm policy dictates. Eva's pre-arrival pregnancy was confirmed last fall and we settled in to await the outcome. On a cold February night two weeks ago, the colt arrived, hale and hearty and full of energy. He and Eva spent a few days at a local equine surgical facility as a minor precaution and then they made their triumphant return to the Windham farm with great fanfare.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx4pt0X6_faBqjM_njszwRIhnqiPfQYwsCjCSUUnCwdgnTYvMMZ3hH3985VVX_w_oaOXWSxn0C7TBY' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">He has been nicknamed "Little B" until a more formal naming process is established. As expected, he has endeared himself to all. Due to the pandemic, the farm has been closed to the public and even the office staff and most volunteers. We are all anxiously awaiting our chance to get to know Little B and indulge him with pets and rump scratches. He will most certainly become a local celebrity just as Windy River has.</span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Little B's arrival coincides with another major event at the farm, the annual Buy-a-Bale campaign. Horses eat...a lot! As a 501c3 charity the farm depends entirely upon donations to provide food, medications and veterinary care to the 35+ equines they care for at a budget of approximately $1M (that's million with seven digits) annually. The Buy-a-Bale campaign goes a long way to support the effort. Each bale costs $5 and each horse eats about a bale a day. If you do the math, that means 35 horses eat 12,775 hay bales at a cost of $63,875. That's why the campaign is so critical. I make a recurring donation, taken from my bank account directly each month in such a way that I barely know it's gone!</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">If you are interested in participating in this event with either a one-time or a recurring gift you can find a direct link <a href="https://justgiving.com/fundraising/Mary-Ann-Benson" target="_blank"><span style="color: #ff00fe;">here</span></a>.The horses will make good use of your gift to be sure. To illustrate, here are some pictures of them at their happiest.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwbjypQPCxctnMoV_FdVcgjDdtvB1STlOgTcA4keEStV53NUcYNjjIDnJuI7r19eh4Cw39A5W-ODptBX74OW-OE-95UELzTjjNPpF8iY2mdgu1TuvObnkhrqZATOFtZ67imd7Z/s940/09C2105E-0A67-4CBE-B696-DAFC07A291CD.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="788" data-original-width="940" height="401" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwbjypQPCxctnMoV_FdVcgjDdtvB1STlOgTcA4keEStV53NUcYNjjIDnJuI7r19eh4Cw39A5W-ODptBX74OW-OE-95UELzTjjNPpF8iY2mdgu1TuvObnkhrqZATOFtZ67imd7Z/w471-h401/09C2105E-0A67-4CBE-B696-DAFC07A291CD.png" width="471" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIUXXyM05K5A_TJ55IDvXwKNAoGrJOnOXfVwb_X6puwABaYjDHytNmSyT7qT0ScWYlw2Qpx7i2pogBuVXrYlHwmtYP2lOWvfXoasI2WvJ7u_hG9mVTHxWP8Wp2JkGvns6TlSnQ/s2048/518FC9F4-3A2A-4FF0-9698-78ACD6A08898.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1575" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIUXXyM05K5A_TJ55IDvXwKNAoGrJOnOXfVwb_X6puwABaYjDHytNmSyT7qT0ScWYlw2Qpx7i2pogBuVXrYlHwmtYP2lOWvfXoasI2WvJ7u_hG9mVTHxWP8Wp2JkGvns6TlSnQ/s320/518FC9F4-3A2A-4FF0-9698-78ACD6A08898.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Spring is a season of birth and renewal. This year more than ever, we need reminders of a universe that holds hope and optimism for the future. Little B and his stablemates represent the promise of better days ahead.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-22672409156865797712021-01-21T11:31:00.024-05:002021-01-21T17:15:08.959-05:00<h1 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Let's Be Honest...</span></h1><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRAq2IQhaxkFOaYFwg4duf1xfo2ChtC-SNAy36ErcnKu2hdpLyA62jE7ts1NLU0M91AbOs4QepdId6AUntwsW4fXEleWumbg_hzkqZ6vI2AbjPyBA8f1QOsJnKWZR6zPdiyrfm/s1920/A516407E-8429-4C10-957B-4DD0AE02843F.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRAq2IQhaxkFOaYFwg4duf1xfo2ChtC-SNAy36ErcnKu2hdpLyA62jE7ts1NLU0M91AbOs4QepdId6AUntwsW4fXEleWumbg_hzkqZ6vI2AbjPyBA8f1QOsJnKWZR6zPdiyrfm/s320/A516407E-8429-4C10-957B-4DD0AE02843F.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">The world has been out of sorts for a while...like a constipated toddler or a cranky old man whose favorite diner has suddenly stopped serving meatloaf. We have been on edge, dealing with multiple stressors, some in our faces like the pandemic and others more under the radar, like less public civility. We've experienced friends, family and neighbors becoming more polarized in their political views and building walls of intolerance that have threatened relationships, stoked by social media and a divided press.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large; text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">How have we let this happen? We're all dealing with the same realities yet our understanding of the situation is all over the board. Conspiracy theories spring up daily and dangerously grab hold of millions. What are we missing? Perhaps it is BALANCE. As ideologies and beliefs scew dramatically in one direction or the other, we have become an "all or nothing" society. You are either entirely on one side or the other and, most dangerously, the other side is "the enemy" not to be trusted or respected. You are either Pro-Trump or Pro-Biden, Pro-mask or Anti-mask...you get the idea. Civil discourse on the issues is impossible since both sides are firmly entrenched.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">In the interest of full disclosure, I voted for Biden for President. I voted against Trump. But I feel it is important to say that I voted less for or against the individual than for or against their policies and my feelings about what direction our country needs to take. Both candidates had merits and flaws. That is the nature of our democratic process. We choose the candidate who we feel will more closely align with our views, knowing full well that we will not see perfection or infallibility. That being said, I did feel a palpable sense of joy and relief watching the inauguration ceremonies yesterday. The message was clear: Let's put aside our differences and get to the task at hand. We need to heal our country on so many levels. The young poet, Amanda Gorman provided an eloquent call to the task in her amazing poem. Here is the transcript:</span></div><div><h2 class="body-h2" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Quase, Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: 2.25rem; line-height: 1.2; margin: 1.875rem 0px 1.875rem 47.59375px; outline: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.3125rem;">Amanda Gorman's "The Hill We Climb" Poem Transcript</h2><p class="body-text" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 1.25rem 47.59375px; outline: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;"></span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">Dr. Biden, Madam Vice President, Mr. Emhoff, Americans, and the world.</span></i></span></p><p class="body-text" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 1.25rem 47.59375px; outline: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">When day comes, we ask ourselves, where can we find light in this never ending shade?</span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">The loss we carry, a sea. <br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />We must wade. <br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />We've braved the belly of the beast.</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">We've learned that quiet isn't always peace.</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">And the norms and notions of what just is, isn't always justice.</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">And yet the dawn is ours before we knew it. <br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />Somehow we do it.</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">Somehow we've weathered and witnessed a nation that it isn't broken, but simply unfinished.</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">We, the successors of a country and the time where a skinny Black girl descended from slaves and raised by a single mother can dream of becoming president only to find herself reciting for one.</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">And yes, we are far from polished, far from pristine, but that doesn't mean we are striving to form a union that is perfect.<br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" /></span></span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">We are striving to forge our union with purpose. </span>To compose a country, committed to all cultures, colors, characters, and conditions of man.</i></span></p><p class="body-text" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 1.25rem 47.59375px; outline: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">And so we lift our gaze, not to what stands between us, but what stands before us</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">We close the divide because we know to put our future first, we must first put our differences aside.</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">We lay down our arms so we can reach out our arms to one another. We seek harm to none and harmony for all.</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">Let the globe, if nothing else say, this is true.</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">That even as we grieved, we grew.<br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />That even as we hurt, we hoped. <br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />That even as we tired.<br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />W</span></span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">e tried that we'll forever be tied together victorious.</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">Not because we will never again know defeat, but because we will never again sow division.</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">Scripture tells us to envision that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree and no one shall make them afraid</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">If we're to live up to our own time, then victory won't lie in the blade, but in all the bridges we've made.</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">That is the promise to glade the hill we climb.</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" /></span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;">If only we dare it's because being American is more than a pride we inherit.<br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />It's the past we step into and how we repair it. </span></i></span></p><p class="body-text" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 1.25rem 47.59375px; outline: 0px;"></p><p class="body-text" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 1.25rem 47.59375px; outline: 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i>We've seen a force that would shatter our nation, rather than share it. <br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />Would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy.<br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />And this effort very nearly succeeded, but while democracy can be periodically delayed, it can never be permanently defeated in this truth. <br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />In this faith we trust for while we have our eyes on the future, history has its eyes on us. <br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />This is the era of just redemption. <br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />We feared it in its inception.<br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />We did not feel prepared to be the heirs of of such a terrifying hour, but within it, we found the power to author a new chapter.<br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />To offer hope and laughter to ourselves.</i></span></span></p><p class="body-text" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 1.25rem 47.59375px; outline: 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i>So while once we asked, how could we possibly prevail over catastrophe? <br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />Now we assert how could catastrophe possibly prevail over us?<br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />We will not march back to what was, but move to what shall be a country that is bruised. <br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />But whole benevolence, but bold, fierce, and free.</i></span></span></p><p class="body-text" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 1.25rem 47.59375px; outline: 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i>We will not be turned around or interrupted by intimidation because we know our inaction and inertia will be the inheritance of the next generation.<br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />Our blunders become their burdens, but one thing is certain.<br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />If we merged mercy with might, and might with right, then love becomes our legacy, and change our children's birthright. <br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />So let us leave behind a country better than the one.</i></span></span></p><p class="body-text" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 1.25rem 47.59375px; outline: 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i>We were left with every breath, my bronze pounded chest.<br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />We will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one. <br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />We will rise from the gold limbed hills of the West.<br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />We will rise from the wind swept to Northeast where our forefathers first realized the revolution. <br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the middle Western States.<br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />We will arise from the sun baked South. <br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />We will rebuild, reconciled and recover and every known nook over our nation. </i></span></span></p><p class="body-text" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 1.25rem 47.59375px; outline: 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i>And every corner called our country.<br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />Our people diverse and beautiful will emerge, battered and beautiful. <br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />When day comes, we step out of the shade of flame and unafraid, the new dawn balloons, as we free it.<br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />For there was always light. <br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />If only we're brave enough to see it.<br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px;" />If only we're brave enough to be it. </i></span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;"><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div style="text-align: justify;">I love the message of hope she conveys. No, we will never be perfect but striving for improvement is the message of America. We must never stop trying. We must continue to build connections and strive to understand each other. We must never turn a blind eye to injustice or corruption. We must always feel free to speak about issues that concern us. And, most importantly, we must always protect all of the freedoms that separate the United States from every other country in the world. </div></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">We also need to accept that actions have consequences. That understanding is what makes us reasonable adults. My rights can never infringe upon yours and vice versa. Violence or the incitement to violence means facing repercussions which need to be swift and just. That is the basis of the American legal system. It should not be tainted with deals, bargains, special considerations or compromise. If you do the crime, you do the time...period.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I have no doubt that the elections of 2020 were a fair and binding mandate. I am proud of the turnout, the largest in history, and feel that whatever incidents of irregularity, if any, were too insignificant to have affected the final outcome in any way. There were no mass numbers of votes from dead people or duplicate ballots. I believe the courts who ruled on those issues had their facts correct and ruled appropriately. Rumors, lies and vague suppositions were overruled by facts and the truth. That is what should happen...and it did.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Now we need to turn our attention to the future. We have a pandemic to suppress, an economy to rebuild, a social justice system to redefine, an environment to rescue and, perhaps most critically, trust and relationships to reestablish at all levels. Let's bring some balance back to our lives to expedite those tasks. We're all in this together.</span></div>Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-53694393461051280092021-01-02T16:10:00.011-05:002021-01-02T16:19:55.297-05:00<h1 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">It's Been A Year...Now GET OUT!</span></h1><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Goodbye 2020 Funny Illustration - Vector Download" class="rg_i Q4LuWd" data-lt="" data-src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQorHjMuaK5Ntw2lNjAmbDBlVX4Kr2dJrHkjQ&usqp=CAU" height="173" jsname="Q4LuWd" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQorHjMuaK5Ntw2lNjAmbDBlVX4Kr2dJrHkjQ&usqp=CAU" width="293" /> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The symbols have been surreal: Flaming dumpsters, toilet paper Christmas trees, Murder Hornets, A nearly empty Times Square on New Years Eve, Netflix binges, Conversations in lawn chairs six feet apart, Sports Stadiums with cardboard cutouts in the stands, Family Gatherings via Zoom, Masks, Face Shields. A most bizarre year to say the least.</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large; text-align: left;">The human costs of this year have been staggering, leaving scars that will remain with us for many years. Millions dead worldwide, many more millions infected and dealing with a diminished quality of life, collapse of small businesses, social systems, neighborhood connections and a fundamental trust in the power of our government to keep us safe. Families are still separated from loved ones, lifelong friends cannot get together, and everyone must still operate under a code of separation and isolation in everyday encounters for the near future.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The stories of dedication from First Responders and Medical Personnel have reminded us that there are Heroes among us. But this has taken an enormous toll on them, forcing them away from their families and leaving them feeling overwhelmed and helpless in the face of this monster, especially in those cases where the virus could have been prevented with simple precautions.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">January 1st is just a date. It looks no different than the day before, or the 365 before that. But it marks a seismic change in our attitudes and expectations. In our minds, we have crossed from a landscape of fear to one of cautious optimism. A new calendar means new possibilities for recovery and hope. The rollout of two powerful vaccines felt like a much deserved Christmas present to the world. We are desperately hoping that our salvation lies in a couple of hypodermic needles. Will this strategy work? According to the scientists it will if we can get the vaccine into enough people to create a "herd immunity" and stop the virus and its mutations from further spread.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">What will January 1st 2022 look like? Will we have been able to resume life as we knew it prior to March 2020? I suspect that even if the virus is brought under control it will be a very long time before it leaves our collective memory. The casual hug or handshake will be hesitant. The assembly of a crowd watching a concert or a baseball game will make us feel uneasy. Large gatherings among strangers will send up red flags. Even boarding a plane or a train or a bus packed with strangers will feel uncomfortable. We can't easily forget the devastation of this silent killer.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I desperately hope that among the lessons learned from this horrible experience are the fragility of our humanity and the need to be vigilant. We especially need to be protective of the most vulnerable of our population.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">So, I cautiously raise a glass of optimistic cheer for a year of hope and promise while opening the door to kick out a year of devastation and sorrow! </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Happy New Year! </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span><img alt="2020 2021 Images, Stock Photos & Vectors | Shutterstock" class="rg_i Q4LuWd" data-lt="" data-src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSwVfuX7MIchFq4m9mR3pzb5gNoItHrCq6J9Q&usqp=CAU" height="156" jsname="Q4LuWd" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSwVfuX7MIchFq4m9mR3pzb5gNoItHrCq6J9Q&usqp=CAU" style="text-align: left;" width="325" /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></div>Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-8967834920699403702020-11-11T17:55:00.002-05:002020-11-11T17:55:47.388-05:00<div class="separator"><h1 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Past, Present and Future All in the Same Day</span></b></span></h1><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="November 11, 2020 Calendar with Holidays & Count Down - USA" class="n3VNCb" data-noaft="1" jsaction="load:XAeZkd;" jsname="HiaYvf" src="https://s.wincalendar.net/img/en/days/november-11-2020.png" style="height: 252px; margin: 0px; text-align: start; width: 280px;" /></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Using a calendar in 2020 has felt a bit strange, to put it mildly. One of the most useless purchases I made at the end of last year was a 2020 planner. I started relying on my SMTWTFS pill holder to help with the day of the week. Which month it was became anybody's guess.</span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">But, every once in a while there comes a day unlike the rest. The square for 11/11/20 <i>actually </i>got a bit crowded with events. Veterans Day loomed large for a number of reasons. Of course, it has meant honoring the selfless contributions of heroes like my Dad (WWII Marine-Pacific Theater), my Father-in-Law (WWII Army- European Theater) and my husband, Brendan (Air Force 1974-1978), as well as Uncles, my Aunt Anne (WWII Navy WAVE), Cousins, and Friends. Thank you all for your service! ๐บ๐ธ </span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">November 11 is also my parents' anniversary. This year marks 70 years since their wedding day in 1950.</span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib9qOxXmB_2aGYaaQ4Vfe0e-iiavneimG4jNgLedXEAJgaOrQW6AOo528oRs7l5cfTtv6Qt-D5ZlYaO6Jxx-YQclifIYLqFhGvBUC178aCq9pUZYSlQNwatsTF5y5RmE3h1xc9/s2048/984E2A8C-3628-4F8D-9E6E-70AC9B2853DC.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1629" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib9qOxXmB_2aGYaaQ4Vfe0e-iiavneimG4jNgLedXEAJgaOrQW6AOo528oRs7l5cfTtv6Qt-D5ZlYaO6Jxx-YQclifIYLqFhGvBUC178aCq9pUZYSlQNwatsTF5y5RmE3h1xc9/s320/984E2A8C-3628-4F8D-9E6E-70AC9B2853DC.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /><br /></span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I know that they are together again in a wonderful place and looking down proudly on their four children, eight grandchildren and six great grandchildren. I also know they have been watching over us all, busily intervening on our behalfs and, at times, steering us in the right direction. My mother especially has become heaven's equivalent of the Helicopter Mom. My siblings and I can list dozens of times when things should have ended badly for us (or at least differently in a negative way) and we felt her presence turn the tide.</span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Which brings me to the Present part of this blog. Today was my followup mammogram and surgeon consult after facing down a breast cancer diagnosis one year ago. Last November I listened in shock as a radiologist outlined complications from my mammogram and referred me to the Maine Breast Care Center. It was a new and terrifying experience after many years of routine results. December brought biopsies, ultrasounds, and MRI's and, after the delays brought on by holidays, surgery in late January. Six weeks later I began sixteen sessions of radiation, coinciding with the onset of the Pandemic shutdown, making for a truly surreal experience for patients and staff alike. Hormone treatments were scheduled to begin in early April, complicated by a severe set of adverse reactions that sent us back to the drawing board. A different course of medications began in May and [knock on wood] all is going well except for some insomnia and the occasional hot flash But today loomed large in my psyche, causing additional hours of sleeplessness. During many of those hours, I held conversations with my parents, both lost to cancer, to ask them for courage and support. Today I learned that all is clear, no evidence of any cancer in either breast and the surgery and radiation have accomplished their purposes with no lasting effects. Chalk another one up to parents in high places and, especially to a super-amazing team of professionals: Nurses, Technicians, my Surgeon, Radiologists, and my Oncologist. </span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Early in the ordeal, a dear friend sent me this shirt which I wear proudly!</span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><img alt="Women's Superheroes Scrubs Crusher Tee" class="primary-image" itemprop="image" src="https://d3o2e4jr3mxnm3.cloudfront.net/Womens-Superheroes-Scrubs-Crusher-Tee_71080_1_lg.png" style="text-align: start;" title="Women's Superheroes Scrubs Crusher Tee" /></span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">As to the future...that one is a bit trickier but today I am feeling optimistic. We are still in the vice grip of this horrible pandemic with some very rough sledding ahead but the faintest promise of a vaccine seems to be on the horizon. We have just elected a leader who is willing to confront this thing head on with a team of scientists and researchers who will be taken seriously. Politics must now take a back seat to information based in evidence and medical expertise. Let the game-playing stop and the business of helping a wounded country heal truly begin.</span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">All in all, it has been a good day. Past, present and hopes for the future have made it a stellar day to circle on the calendar. Let's hope we have many more of these soon!</span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="Amazon.com: 40"x24" Learn from Yesterday Live for Today Hope for Tomorrow Wall Decal Sticker Art Home Decor: Home & Kitchen" class="n3VNCb" data-noaft="1" jsaction="load:XAeZkd;" jsname="HiaYvf" src="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/41KgyUI3GjL._AC_SX425_.jpg" style="height: 425px; margin: 0px; text-align: start; width: 425px;" /></div></div>Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-6722778517826372042020-08-13T10:06:00.000-04:002020-08-13T10:35:06.292-04:00It's a Great Day to be a Lefty!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Today is International Left-Handers Day...Hooray! I am one of the 10% of people who ends up seated at a corner at the Thanksgiving table to avoid elbow-fencing with my next door neighbor. Manual can-openers, punch ladles, spiral-bound notebooks, and scissors laugh at us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But maybe the joke is on them. We are more likely to be better at multi-tasking than righties, tend to be more creative and better problem-solvers and have a distinct advantage in some sports (that would NOT be me in the last group). Some studies say that we score higher on intelligence tests. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">All that aside, it isn't easy being a lefty. Most environments just aren't set up for us. Remember those little half-desks in most high school and college classrooms. They were designed for you to just lay your right hand on your notebook to take notes. You could always spot the lefty (me!) twisted in her seat like a contortionist to reach that little mini-desk. I once had a professor storm over during an exam, convinced I was reading my classmate's test results because I wasn't facing front. When he realized what was happening HE MOVED MY DESK IN THE MIDDLE OF THE EXAM so I would be facing the wall. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me at that point. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As an adult, it hasn't become much better. If businesses lock one of their double side-by-side glass doors to control access, they usually lock the left door, figuring that people will reach out with their right hand to open the remaining open door. Not me. My left hand reaches out, expecting a functional result from the door handle and, since I am usually moving quickly, I end up with a painful and humiliating vertical face plant against the glass door window pane. Lesson learned? Not necessarily. Even a sign that says "Use other door" is no guarantee of a repeat performance. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But I'm in some very distinguished company with my left hand orientation. Five of the last ten Presidents were left-handed: </span><span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Barack Obama, Bill Clinton, George H. W. Bush, Ronald Reagan, and Gerald Ford. Ronald Reagan was left handed but was forced to write right handed. Gerald Ford was left-handed, but switched back and forth. Prince William of Britain is left-handed, as was Winston Churchill. Some of the most talented entertainers of past and present are in the club: Paul McCartney, David Bowie, Jimi Hendrix, Lady Gaga, and Oprah Winfrey are in our club. Historical members include Einstein, DaVinci and Michelangelo. We're a pretty elite group.</span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But we haven't always been recognized and lauded. The latin word for left is Sinistra (as in "Sinister"), as opposed to Dexter (as in "Dextrous") for right...that should tell you the prevailing opinion of our situation back in the days. Also the French term for left is Gauche, not exactly a compliment. Lefties were considered odd at best and demonic at worst. Some of our fellow club members were considered witches and hanged or burned at the stake. As late as the mid-1900's, lefties were "cured" of their affliction by being forced to convert to right-handedness. School children were taught to write with their left hand tied behind their back. </span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I went to Catholic School in the fifties and early sixties. Back in 2006 I wrote a blog post about learning to knit as a lefty. It devolved to an essay on my experiences with the Sisters of Mercy (a major misnomer for many of them) and my experiences navigating a righthanded world as a school kid. It was at times harrowing and other times just plain bizarre. Now, of course I can look back at it and laugh. Dealing with Marching Practice and Square Dancing with Sister Mary ("Nikita") Cleta and the handwriting debacle were straight out of a sit-com. The link is <a href="http://downeastyarnho.blogspot.com/2006/04/your-other-left.html">Your Other Left</a>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Being left-handed really doesn't define me that much. I've learned to navigate in a right-handed world fairly well. But every once in a while something pops up to remind me of my uniqueness. When my grandson was born, a wonderful friend sent me a mug that says "My favorite people call me Grandma". To read it I have to drink my coffee with my right hand...A small sacrifice which I make each morning most willingly!</span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Cheers to all you Lefties out there! Enjoy your day!</span></span></div>
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<br />Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-32661069485077666652020-07-25T16:06:00.001-04:002020-07-25T16:21:19.123-04:00When Life Gives You Cucumbers...Burp!<h2>
<span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">This is a repost of a blog entry I did in early August nine years ago. I made this recipe today and realized I had to share it again. It is SO delicicious! Enjoy!</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">The garden is on full throttle, those nasty hornworms seemed to have packed their little bug-hauls and moved on, so every day I wander out with my collection basket and do some picking. This was this morning's harvest. </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJ3KyFXV4xi-2rqVVPGMl1OBAUoxVZAPHLc7_CE1UEcVzsy8gnYKVCIEySAeCftl8XuwxURxfvCCQtemDQB0XquTZNQriNw6GfztdD5FhIwwF9VBKu9GvUyc-bhf_dKNROctf/s1600/100_9635.JPG" style="color: #223344; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639265987093311330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJ3KyFXV4xi-2rqVVPGMl1OBAUoxVZAPHLc7_CE1UEcVzsy8gnYKVCIEySAeCftl8XuwxURxfvCCQtemDQB0XquTZNQriNw6GfztdD5FhIwwF9VBKu9GvUyc-bhf_dKNROctf/s320/100_9635.JPG" style="border: 1px solid rgb(187, 187, 187); cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 240px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; padding: 4px; width: 320px;" /></a><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">The cherry and grape tomatoes are my favorite and there were substantially more of them in that bowl before I walked in the back door. They are so delicious to pick and eat right off the vine. </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">In our house, cucumbers usually mean one thing: the world-famous summer salad recipe dating back to Meredith's earliest day-care days. I tasted this recipe and knew I HAD to have it. So my mission this morning was to sacrifice my gorgeous cukes for this time-honored tradition. </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">There is an assumption in our household that I can't cook. Granted, compared to Mr. B. and his apt pupil, Meredith, I am a rank amateur. But the truth is, I can hold my own in the kitchen and avoid either 1) starving or 2) poisoning anyone. Given the chance, I might even be able to put an entire dinner together that wouldn't be half bad. But I'm no fool. I have someone who lives for the food preparation process, all the way from grocery shopping to cleanup (sort of). I'm not looking THAT gift horse in the mouth! But cucumber salad is one of MY special recipes so when I can gain access to the kitchen without a food critic glued to my shoulder, I'm off and running. </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8m5C53ocyzBJ7hHzIX1FQ6Go18BloZdH3zh7v0BdUuONF6gec_WW3icITM3U91CY8j96oOcOBoK2Si5_2mbPl0tyGvkdN2nk9vSFQ3qABXx0Jbo3wj4Epqp9EAoZ4-k3hONf/s1600/100_9637.JPG" style="color: #223344; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639270647839306226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8m5C53ocyzBJ7hHzIX1FQ6Go18BloZdH3zh7v0BdUuONF6gec_WW3icITM3U91CY8j96oOcOBoK2Si5_2mbPl0tyGvkdN2nk9vSFQ3qABXx0Jbo3wj4Epqp9EAoZ4-k3hONf/s320/100_9637.JPG" style="border: 1px solid rgb(187, 187, 187); cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 320px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; padding: 4px; width: 240px;" /></a><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">Once I locate the recipe (no easy feat in this house), the first step is to crisp the cucumbers. I have found this is the true secret to this recipe. The crunch adds so much. To do that you will need kosher or canning/pickling salt, ice cubes and water and at least an hour of "crisping" time. The longer you can leave them in this icy brine, the crisper they will become. </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">Don't worry, you will rinse the salt later so you are in little danger of driving your blood pressure skyward (unless, of course, you have that food critic hanging around second guessing your every move and questioning your choice of utensils, ingredients, or need to make this thing in the first place). My secret? Pick a day when said food critic is not EVEN IN THE HOUSE and not due back for hours. Geez, Louise... </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwaZu3ji1eVSj-6L3VzZ4xH4qACiXJDLZ90oAiF3hddJJUh9y2QqZSrSoxyBX0r8nOeamP79MqFboHMkAqf4ZjaNje2xyfMU4l77YS47Qy_UKPXKo4JPVIcNS88BoKlgMgYkH4/s1600/000_0029.JPG" style="color: #223344; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639274079908969234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwaZu3ji1eVSj-6L3VzZ4xH4qACiXJDLZ90oAiF3hddJJUh9y2QqZSrSoxyBX0r8nOeamP79MqFboHMkAqf4ZjaNje2xyfMU4l77YS47Qy_UKPXKo4JPVIcNS88BoKlgMgYkH4/s320/000_0029.JPG" style="border: 1px solid rgb(187, 187, 187); cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 240px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; padding: 4px; width: 320px;" /></a><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;"></span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">The first thing to do is to peel the cucumbers and discard the ends. They need to be sliced as thinly as possible, so much easier if you have one of these handy gadgets, sometimes called a mandolin (not to be confused with the musical instrument). If you strum this baby you're going to end up at the ER. It is extremely sharp and will slice your fingers in a heartbeat. Use the plastic guard if you are smart. (Voice of experience speaking here!) Our version came to us thanks to the ingenuity of the Japanese who seem to have perfected the "As seen on TV" marketing model. This thing sells for substantially less than a genuine french mandolin but does a heck of a job. </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCGy8GerMJFpFmyUW2P0-2MLIqsAEfh7g0ikPJGwg8J9nBhMM13hW06AK36UK3rpOBFsiX1Eqv-azFQIeELMuX-WDlHj7IZ5zy2vpb-S1l8X0GAA9vKhJfOB2SLD1SUB7p5SEc/s1600/000_0038.JPG" style="color: #223344; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639277454093589234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCGy8GerMJFpFmyUW2P0-2MLIqsAEfh7g0ikPJGwg8J9nBhMM13hW06AK36UK3rpOBFsiX1Eqv-azFQIeELMuX-WDlHj7IZ5zy2vpb-S1l8X0GAA9vKhJfOB2SLD1SUB7p5SEc/s200/000_0038.JPG" style="border: 1px solid rgb(187, 187, 187); cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 200px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; padding: 4px; width: 150px;" /></a><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">For legal reasons, I'm sure, it has been renamed the "Benriner", actually the </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal;">new </span><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">Benriner, so as not to be confused with the </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal;">old </span><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">Benriner, I guess. But the only thing that matters is that this thing can do a heck of a job slicing everything that crosses its sharp little blade. The picture shows a happy Japanese housewife but she's NOT using the guard that comes with it. Shortly after this picture was snapped she was probably whisked off to the hospital missing the tips of three of her fingers while screaming in agony because her lucrative hand modeling career was abruptly and so needlessly cut short. Don't make the same mistake...use the guard. </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">The directions are plainly printed on the backside of the box in case you aren't sure how to use this valuable tool.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhke5GKewzbU2H-WgxyI6qVCVkBpLt5LbhwvR0dd072IjbFZJICpyop7cb_jD4Ymu77U15ez1MwyJd-3MuBtHUx5FgIVSJFC9m5vCxMknpPZEVxpvJyV0oe8clWrvHGpC9NH7F-/s1600/000_0039.JPG" style="color: #223344; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639279833800616898" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhke5GKewzbU2H-WgxyI6qVCVkBpLt5LbhwvR0dd072IjbFZJICpyop7cb_jD4Ymu77U15ez1MwyJd-3MuBtHUx5FgIVSJFC9m5vCxMknpPZEVxpvJyV0oe8clWrvHGpC9NH7F-/s320/000_0039.JPG" style="border: 1px solid rgb(187, 187, 187); cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 240px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; padding: 4px; width: 320px;" /></a><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">The fact that they are in Japanese should pose no problem since, of course, everyone has a fluent speaker of Japanese in their circle of friends. Actually, the addition of the instructions in English helps too. Not that you need to be a rocket scientist to figure this out but some people do benefit from that added boost of written instructions. </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">Okay, now we are ready to crisp the cukes. After being sliced paper thin, layer them in a bowl with alternating layers of the kosher or pickling/ canning salt. Be generous with the salt. Most of it is going to be rinsed later. </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq6GecjSzzIXtwoNQwy8cXSvKtP_mN6jR0gbGKtiHiq4i-amn_lZMnhnOLd994SID239KskKwqinvAcqY6eaAliTGHc3hiEBCcnPtI3VeIjvsTT-bEgvvMMs4pK1J9n6g23-5W/s1600/000_0031.JPG" style="color: #223344; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639282612664416738" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq6GecjSzzIXtwoNQwy8cXSvKtP_mN6jR0gbGKtiHiq4i-amn_lZMnhnOLd994SID239KskKwqinvAcqY6eaAliTGHc3hiEBCcnPtI3VeIjvsTT-bEgvvMMs4pK1J9n6g23-5W/s320/000_0031.JPG" style="border: 1px solid rgb(187, 187, 187); cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 240px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; padding: 4px; width: 320px;" /></a><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;"></span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">Put as many whole ice cubes as you have on hand on the top of the cucumbers. Whole cubes are better because they will take longer to melt and keep the mixture colder longer. The longer it stays cold, the crisper the cukes will be. </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Teb0crSBe_yhPO847tNLudYWdNWHL-s1xdjlR4FCQ1LoU1YOXtmz7hX5qqp15Rd444KTX9Dyj_2wVmLIm3VrQoy0hrZVc6TT5jCucIZ8ilM7f1j6NQ1e4L4-UiVA1MsOutHT/s1600/000_0032.JPG" style="color: #223344; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639283846671981042" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Teb0crSBe_yhPO847tNLudYWdNWHL-s1xdjlR4FCQ1LoU1YOXtmz7hX5qqp15Rd444KTX9Dyj_2wVmLIm3VrQoy0hrZVc6TT5jCucIZ8ilM7f1j6NQ1e4L4-UiVA1MsOutHT/s320/000_0032.JPG" style="border: 1px solid rgb(187, 187, 187); cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 240px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; padding: 4px; width: 320px;" /></a><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">Now pour cold water over the entire mix, filling the bowl as much as possible. This will dissolve the salt but keep it in contact with the cukes. Put the bowl in the refrigerator to slow the melting of the ice cubes and keeping the temperature at ideal "crisping" level. Trust me, you'll thank me for making you do this when you taste the difference in the cucumbers from the mushy, droopy ones that are in your neighbor's cucumber salad at the pot luck! </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1Qqn7yhECMgVa2e3_kVgPtZQ4E62aXoy9BEarW53DBVKci_Xuv1MyUi_j5NjYRVTI6dpUz4nYJX5MmjYdREHRdYLjmcfyRdGddVm8OXUod6j9RRHrwUNYnaxCGj_tGZ5E_KR/s1600/000_0034.JPG" style="color: #223344; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639285359461512194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1Qqn7yhECMgVa2e3_kVgPtZQ4E62aXoy9BEarW53DBVKci_Xuv1MyUi_j5NjYRVTI6dpUz4nYJX5MmjYdREHRdYLjmcfyRdGddVm8OXUod6j9RRHrwUNYnaxCGj_tGZ5E_KR/s320/000_0034.JPG" style="border: 1px solid rgb(187, 187, 187); cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 240px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; padding: 4px; width: 320px;" /></a><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;"></span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">Ok, this next step is for women only. We know that men are genetically incapable of filling ice cube trays so they get a pass on this one. But, you gals know how important it is to replenish those ice cube trays that you just used. Avoid the frustration of reaching for some ice for the mojitos only to find a tray with a single cube sitting lonely in there. Some might argue that with the summer we are having, this could be a life-saving tip...especially if there are mojitos or margaritas or bloody marys involved. This has been a public service announcement.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVFbba8ufG6a1KPc5reuIouTUU8UgEdLTd-Mj6kePGrXyw9k-R_Q-i33AAhXCf1KCL6GWo8rD2dS9N3KKqKbNlbijbbeITtBkArInmPqzVONdGgE1FuXK990f3ltcAoqTGk7Mh/s1600/000_0040.JPG" style="color: #223344; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639286844316418274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVFbba8ufG6a1KPc5reuIouTUU8UgEdLTd-Mj6kePGrXyw9k-R_Q-i33AAhXCf1KCL6GWo8rD2dS9N3KKqKbNlbijbbeITtBkArInmPqzVONdGgE1FuXK990f3ltcAoqTGk7Mh/s320/000_0040.JPG" style="border: 1px solid rgb(187, 187, 187); cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 240px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; padding: 4px; width: 320px;" /></a><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;"></span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">While the cukes are crisping you can make your dressing. It won't take you the full hour, unless like me you discover at the last minute that you don't have any %*@#& vegetable oil and have to make an emergency trip to the supermarket where you get caught up in conversation with your mechanic whose sister just got divorced and found out that her ex had an affair with her hairdresser and...oh, never mind. Anyway. you mix together a cup of cider vinegar, a cup of sugar, 1/2 cup of vegetable oil, celery seed (not salt!), parsley flakes and generous amounts of pepper. Slice an onion (or two) very thin...use the mandolin/benriner...and USE THE GUARD for the sake of your own hand modeling career. </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfayDef8wIvZ9lYvoHywiIQAvSUf6rgyfNYvsxIK-W23U9pAc_3BoZGTIh15DwaY6eDuob7uzHxuI2glEbV26TApcTIaV-Kr3-6GD1JQU-MrnYll4JbLpjMgAa0MU_8VLN-vqE/s1600/000_0041.JPG" style="color: #223344; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639289169213830562" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfayDef8wIvZ9lYvoHywiIQAvSUf6rgyfNYvsxIK-W23U9pAc_3BoZGTIh15DwaY6eDuob7uzHxuI2glEbV26TApcTIaV-Kr3-6GD1JQU-MrnYll4JbLpjMgAa0MU_8VLN-vqE/s320/000_0041.JPG" style="border: 1px solid rgb(187, 187, 187); cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 240px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; padding: 4px; width: 320px;" /></a><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">Now you are ready to drain the crisped cukes. Remember the longer you have left them to crisp the better! Pour off the the water and ice and put them on multiple layers of absorbent towels. Only use paper towels if they are heavy duty. Otherwise you will end up with a cucumber and paper towel salad...not particularly appealing unless you are desperate for fiber. Roll them up and squeeze out as much water as possible. Put the cukes in a bowl and cover with the the dressing. Refrigerate and enjoy! </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkAdayDioc_bwoc0QJHuuSILGnaBVDSsc5TRy8INjvQYft_vgHHrjuuwIFHYhbn0PZAhnvmDDNyrXbE3FHiOKB6TTPzO16qLf2UEzPj91ywQ3E_FnFb3Naiz1N3zRzwDd5Qd1Y/s1600/000_0042.JPG" style="color: #223344; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639290467439813346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkAdayDioc_bwoc0QJHuuSILGnaBVDSsc5TRy8INjvQYft_vgHHrjuuwIFHYhbn0PZAhnvmDDNyrXbE3FHiOKB6TTPzO16qLf2UEzPj91ywQ3E_FnFb3Naiz1N3zRzwDd5Qd1Y/s320/000_0042.JPG" style="border: 1px solid rgb(187, 187, 187); cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 240px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; padding: 4px; width: 320px;" /></a><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;"></span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">You can season with additional parsley flakes, celery seed and pepper (my favorite) but you should not need any more salt (unless you're plotting a murder by hypertension). It has plenty! </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">Here is the complete recipe with just the facts: </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">Ingredients: 3-4 large cucumbers </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">Salt (kosher or canning/pickling) </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal;">dressing</span><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">: 1 cup sugar </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">1 cup cider vinegar </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">1/2 cup vegetable oil </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">parsley flakes </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">celery seeds </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">lots of pepper </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">one large (or two small) onions, thinly sliced </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">Peel cucumbers and slice as thinly as possible. In large bowl layer cukes with salt between layers. Cover with ice water and ice cubes. Let sit for at least one hour, refrigerate if possible. Drain and squeeze excess water out. Mix with dressing. </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;" /><span style="background-color: #eeeecc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.609999656677246px; font-weight: normal;">Happy Crunching!</span></h2>
Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-35747895471206642922020-07-17T10:50:00.002-04:002020-07-17T16:38:37.250-04:00For Better or For Worse, In Sickness and In Health...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibYPgs-fExTerHsy8dha9urD_GFCzmZudKR0kxHptmXiuf3mdBkGtjd-02adlMmI2r7nGxKhmRjILtR1FkGKdwB2OU8FNjhaeOejDQION1eYUxFSunn-f8mK-_R7Imh_yNVMqT/s1600/D2441D15-F3D6-4EAB-ACDA-281327D6BD8D_1_105_c.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="739" data-original-width="508" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibYPgs-fExTerHsy8dha9urD_GFCzmZudKR0kxHptmXiuf3mdBkGtjd-02adlMmI2r7nGxKhmRjILtR1FkGKdwB2OU8FNjhaeOejDQION1eYUxFSunn-f8mK-_R7Imh_yNVMqT/s320/D2441D15-F3D6-4EAB-ACDA-281327D6BD8D_1_105_c.jpeg" width="219" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Today is Anniversary #44. That young (and totally clueless) couple in the picture above is us on July 17, 1976. Brendan is humming the A&W Root Beer song and we both seem to be walking into the future with our eyes closed. (Here is the song by the way: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mqb33EeQhFg">The Great A&W Root Bear Song</a></span><span style="font-size: large;">) Blue tuxedoes were in, as were Juliet Caps for the bride. We were truly stylin'! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It sometimes amazes me to realize that I have been with Brendan for nearly two thirds of my life. As anyone who has been married can attest, "it ain't all sunshine and rosesbuds." We have grown so much since then, sometimes together and sometimes apart. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">He started out the adventurer, willing to take risks: </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">B: Why don't we buy that deli in Blue Hill, ME and open a business? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">MA: Because we don't have any money and we don't know squat about running a deli business...or any other business for that matter!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Over the years, the roles have been reversed. Now I would be the one itching for an adventure that he shoots down:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">MA: Now that we're retired, why don't we take a roadtrip across the country and see as many states as we can?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">B: Because we would have to leave Maine and sleep in strange beds and use strange bathrooms and eat strange food and interact with new people and what would we do with the dog?... </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">That's not to say we haven't had adventure in our time together. In 1977 we moved to New York City (an adventure for me but coming home for Brendan). We spent five action-packed but exhausting years living in a wonderful neighborhood in Brooklyn and commuting into Manhattan to work every day. We survived a garbage strike, a transit strike, the blizzard of 1978, and Mary Adinolfi, our next door neighbor.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Mary introduced herself the day we moved in by leaning out her front door and yelling to me, "Do you have a sister for my son Dennis?" Thankfully, I did not at the time. After a year or so of living next door, she decided that it was time for us to have a baby. She announced loudly from her front porch that the jockey shorts I was washing and hanging on our back clothesline were strangling all of Brendan's "swimmers" and he should change to boxers. [People, I can't make this stuff up, seriously!] She lived with her husband, Vinnie, a quiet, long-suffering man who took long daily trips to "fetch the paper" and most likely get a few moments peace, the aforementioned son Dennis, and a goofy mutt Charlie who looked like Scooby-Doo and loved to sing. Mary would play opera recordings so Charlie could tackle all of the soprano arias for the entire neighborhood to enjoy. Beverly Sills he was not. Good times.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Our next adventure came five years later when, tired of the two hour work commute each way, we seized the opportunity to move to Portland ME in 1982. I was offered a position at the University of Southern Maine and within a month we were here. The transition was a bit bumpy but we were still young and flexible. Brendan set out to look for a job in a tight market during a recession. His New York experience as an international expediting agent for a multinational construction company had no comparable equivalent in this economy so just getting an interview proved painfully difficult. He ended up woefully underemployed in the beginning but we were happy to be in our beloved Maine. We got our first dog, a wacky Golden Retriever named Molly who ate everything: ant traps, Christmas tree ornaments and rug fringe, all yielding nothing worse than a burp. A year later we took a deep breath and bought a house, and in 1985, our daughter Meredith was born. We were now officially grownups. Let the real games begin.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The ups and downs came fast and furious over the years: promotions, layoffs, house renovations and emergencies, the arrivals and departures of various dogs, cats, fish, rabbits, summer family vacations, the deaths of our parents, Meredith's milestones and daily calendars that overflowed with activities. Time seemed to accelerate. At one point we found that we were barely communicating with each other. That's when we got scared. Things had become too complacent, too easy to take for granted...and too likely to build resentment and alienation. We were drifting too far apart.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">In 1992 we made the decision to renew our vows at a wonderful resort called the Balsams in New Hampshire. We picked a June weekend and stood in their lilac grove, surrounded by thousands of Monarch butterflies completing their migration north. The wife of the resort owner was our "witness" as we read our vows to each other. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">That truly was a turning point in our marriage, as we promised to always put each other first, make time to do things that we enjoy together but give each other space for our separate interests. Most importantly, we promised to keep communication open and honest.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In the interim years, we have continued to grow as a couple and as individuals. We recognize and respect each other's differences. Brendan is an introvert who cherishes order and routine. He enjoys cooking, baking, grocery shopping and maintaining the kitchen. I am an extrovert who thrives on social situations and spontaneity and detests routine housework. I like handling the finances, doing the outdoor lawn and garden work and tinkering with computers, cellphones and electronic gadgets of all kinds. [Brendan is basically a technophobe who just recently relinquished his flip phone but still keeps his new cellphone turned off at all times so no one can call him. He has no idea how to use most of its features, nor does he care.] He hates dealing with the news. The first thing I do when I am in the car alone is turn on NPR to lap up news of the day like a sponge. We are opposites in so many ways but, knowing that, we can work with it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The isolation that the current pandemic has caused has been excruciating for me. To Brendan it is no big deal since he does not need the social contact the way I do. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">During the past six months, I have forced Brendan out of his comfort zone in only one crucial area: dealing with medical info. My breast cancer diagnosis in December mobilized him completely. He has always been uncomfortable in doctor's offices or hospitals. He went years without having routine physicals done and only began having them when I started making appointments for him. Even then, he would whine like a toddler when I made him go, and then insist that I come with him for moral support. But once he heard my diagnosis, the tables were turned. It was he who was my moral support. And he never missed a single appointment. Even towards the end of my radiation when, due to Covid, he wasn't even allowed in the facility, he insisted on driving me to the appointments and waiting for me in the car. He was part of every video appointment and on the other extension for the phone appointments. I know he would rather have been doing just about anything else but he knew how much I needed his support. He dropped his usual pessimist outlook in favor of cheerleading me to a positive outcome.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Has our time been together been perfect? HELL NO! There have been sullen silences, tears (always mine), retreats to opposite ends of the the house, uncomfortable discussions, stubborn opinions held fast on both sides, and times when one of us (usually me) would idly check the gas gauge in my car to see how far away I could get before my absence was noticed. But all that would pass and we would either come to a compromise or agree to disagree.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">One month after we were married, my mother gave us a present. It was probably something she picked up in the local dime store, one of her favorite haunts. It sat on our dresser for over forty years until I gave it to Meredith and Kevin on their wedding day, replaced with a picture from their wedding. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Our scorecard is mixed on how well we did over the years, but we get A's for effort.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So, as we mark another trip around the sun together, it is with an even deeper connection and commitment than that breezy, sunny July day forty four years ago. But perhaps it was a wise choice to keep our eyes closed on the trip down the aisle. It has made the trip a lot more interesting and that's a good thing. Because, it seems, we're in this for the long haul together. Happy Anniversary to us!</span></div>
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Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-59128076695809802872020-06-26T11:06:00.001-04:002020-06-26T11:13:29.221-04:00Mother Nature soothes our worried brows with summer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvV_EhyphenhyphenKBfULj158USpeN2pf5YQcMoYsBF1cFlobrZWNaNsjs6YUw8d6VDnBI3mqahHgBtQ0xiZB1gC1OuggsdkLa3nCBEG7TKsfmolzhcu0AC-_cbytSLTSFXzMBi24kr7_sP/s1600/B3F8E61F-F38B-4455-9D00-AA85CF2D3859_1_201_a.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvV_EhyphenhyphenKBfULj158USpeN2pf5YQcMoYsBF1cFlobrZWNaNsjs6YUw8d6VDnBI3mqahHgBtQ0xiZB1gC1OuggsdkLa3nCBEG7TKsfmolzhcu0AC-_cbytSLTSFXzMBi24kr7_sP/s320/B3F8E61F-F38B-4455-9D00-AA85CF2D3859_1_201_a.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Summer is truly a gift in Maine. As the wind howls and the snowstorms rage in February, we are sustained by memories of crisp, fresh June mornings. This year the need for solace and serenity has been urgent as we battle the uncertainties and heartaches of a worldwide crisis. The pandemic has rendered us virtually helpless and created a society divided by fear, lack of answers and a leadership vacuum. Along comes Mother Nature to help ease the pain.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Maybe it is that critical need that has amplified the wonderful sights, sounds and smells of summer this year. Early in the spring, the daffodils and hyacinths exploded with unprecedented vibrance and vigor. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The tulips followed with depths of color I hadn't seen in years. The Irises and Peonies made their debuts with amazing flourish.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And then came the roses...Oh, the roses!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My favorite yellow floribunda roses were first, as usual. Their delicate fragrance always brings me back to my first "fancy" gift of english soaps sent by my godmother when I was about ten. There have been years when we only saw a few blossoms or even no blossoms at all. This year it was as if the bush sensed our need for that beauty and calming scent and stepped up her game. The relatively short bloom period was compensated for by its intensity.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Not to be outdone, the two Henry Hudson rosebushes have budded and bloomed faster and with more enthusiasm than ever before. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Adjacent to them, the taller "Grumpy Old Lady" rose said, "Ok, if you want to play THAT game" and has come out with bigger, more plentiful blooms that envelope the entire yard with a sultry fragrance. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The "Grumpy Old Man" rose who sits on the other side of the vegetable garden has seen what was going on and, not to be shown up by the Old Lady, has blasted out the most amazing blanket of blooms, aiming to surpass her visually since his fragrance, while potent, is no match for hers. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The little rosebush with flame colored buds has done her best, despite her size and a tough beginning to the season. Brendan cut her back quite a bit, removing some dead branches and she has rewarded us with gorgeous orange blooms. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxSja6d1ef3Z3CFFzQCbIJ3m7sZbPyE2FqG_4FVibJH0pbW4wtXbVimlFeW_zispCD9ZZ9lNyRsw32px5SYVEk17dzGH2TX8I5A1GHQi1gRarAyvixmsNEwlfMHe-TEXI7gYDq/s1600/15A9CCCE-F4FB-4E52-957B-6446DAE9505D_1_201_a.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1363" data-original-width="1600" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxSja6d1ef3Z3CFFzQCbIJ3m7sZbPyE2FqG_4FVibJH0pbW4wtXbVimlFeW_zispCD9ZZ9lNyRsw32px5SYVEk17dzGH2TX8I5A1GHQi1gRarAyvixmsNEwlfMHe-TEXI7gYDq/s200/15A9CCCE-F4FB-4E52-957B-6446DAE9505D_1_201_a.jpeg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Finally, the newest addition, a little scarlet, overcame some aphid issues with the help of a spray bottle with water and dish detergent and is now producing blooms of deep crimson with a heady, rich aroma. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And so the "War of the Roses" rages on, much to my delight!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As a special addition to our backyard biosphere this summer Mama Robin constructed a nest within a few yards of our back porch, visible (with foliage obstruction) from our upstairs windows. We held our breath since a similar attempt a few years ago yielded four beautiful eggs which met with disaster, most likely due to a young, inattentive mother bird and an opportunistic predator. This time would be different. We now have four new avian denizens to add to our backyard census of finches, hummingbirds, chickadees, woodpeckers, catbirds. Their parents are extremely attentive, tirelessly returning to the nest in turn with scrumptious goodies for those demanding open beaks.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Mama tidies up the nest frequently since like kids everywhere those little ones make quite a mess. They don't seem to mind our proximity but woe to the squirrel that ventures too close. They swoop in on him and peck at him mercilessly until he is out of the yard. Even the poor, hapless catbird cannot escape their wrath. He sneaks in to grab a little suet and they are on him like white on rice. Poor guy just can't catch a break. Meanwhile, the search for food is relentless. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We watched as Papa Robin was engaged in a tug of war with an earthworm who decided it didn't want to be on the menu. He won...or at least part of him did. Lucky for him that earthworms can regenerate since quite a few of his segments went to feed those growing babies. The nest is becoming tight quarters for those four rambunctious young 'uns. There has been a noticeable increase in flapping and jostling. I can almost hear them complaining in baby bird language "He's touching me." "Move over." "This is MY part of the nest." "Hey, you're stepping on me!" It will soon be time to head for the lawn and then the real fun begins. Papa will stick around and teach them how to do their own grocery shopping and ward off danger until they can fly. Mama will head off to build another nest and get another brood going. (She could probably use a spa vacation in the meantime but that will have to wait.) We have felt so honored to be able to watch one of nature's true miracles.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We finally have a vegetable garden again after a two year hiatus. It is securely fenced in to guard against the squirrel "all you can eat buffet" which has plagued our efforts in recent years. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Zucchini are flowering, Peppers are growing, Tomatoes are making slow progress and cucumbers are sending off their climbers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">No garlic this year since Brendan wasn't able to secure any last fall but he has more than made up for it this year. In the early fall a delivery will come that may end up taking over my entire veggie garden area. It could be a standoff in the making but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The annuals and perennials are having a good summer. The echinacea, bee balm, phlox and Joe Pye weed are thriving which will hopefully draw more butterflies and hummingbirds to the yard, much to my delight. The petunias near the back door are blooming and expanding, and we even have a surprise stand of daisies at the bottom of our porch steps.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The last three months have been some of the hardest of my life, for sure. Dealing with the aftermath of breast cancer and being separated from friends and family have been surreal and disheartening. I especially miss seeing my ten month old grandson and watching his milestones. I am genuinely afraid that he will not recognize me when I do get to see him. The chance to be his GeMa and share special moments is out of grasp and it breaks my heart. But I know I am not alone. So many families are separated and grieving their lack of contact. And many are grieving much worse. Our mantra has become "This too shall pass."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In the meantime, we must let Mother Nature become our comfort. She is certainly doing her best this year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Stay safe and, for all of our sake's, PLEASE wear your masks!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-88702253540910083652020-05-27T19:59:00.000-04:002020-05-29T08:31:20.295-04:00Today is Tuesday...no, wait...it's Friday...or maybe Monday... <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I've fallen off the blogging train lately, mostly because, like most of the world, there hasn't been much to say. The days all run together and if it weren't for weekly landmarks like trash pickup day, laundry day, my Sunday New York Times delivery and Brendan's predictable cycle of dinner menus through the week I would have absolutely no idea what day it is. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">There was a "memorable" moment this past week: my tele-conference with my oncologist, Dr. Inhorn, regarding my Estrogren Inhibitor medication. In mid-April my first medication, Anastrozole, threw a set of side effects at me that knocked me sideways to Sunday and made it impossible to continue with that plan. It took weeks to get the effects out of my system which meant waiting over a month to discuss plan B, an alternative medication.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">In the interim, Dr. Inhorn scheduled a bone density test, a measurement of bone loss common in post-menopausal women. My results were not good. I had lost significant bone mass in my hip and back since my previous test, five years ago. This was going to complicate matters since the estrogen inhibitors that are traditionally prescribed to post-menopausal women can have a negative effect on bone density, and, in my case would mean an additional medication such as Fosamax which carries its own boatload of side effects. Not what I was looking for. I've been on that bus trip and it's not fun.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">First let me say how totally weird it was to "tele-conference" with my doctor instead of meeting face-to-face, just another one of those "new normal" experiences we are all encountering daily. He agreed and professed to be a bit technologically challenged, a fact he quickly validated by accidentally hitting a wrong key on the keyboard and sending me into cyberspace. Fortunately, his young(er) assistant was able to retrieve me and we continued "zooming". </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I questioned why I needed to be taking any additional medication since my surgery had been successful, my Oncotype DX score indicated that I did not need chemo and the radiation had gone smoothly. He explained that cancer cells can be sneaky little bastards (my words, not his) and if even one cell had gone "rogue" somewhere else in my body, all it would need is some estrogen to bond to and it would be a whole new ballgame wherever that cell decided to wreak havoc. So the answer is to stop the estrogen and keep it at bay. Okay, I get it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">His suggestion was that I go with an old-school breast cancer treatment, Tamoxifen, an estrogren inhibitor typically given to pre-menopausal women. It doesn't have any effect on bone density so no Fosamax (or the like) would be needed. It does carry a "slight" risk of blood clots and and even "slighter" risk of uterine cancer in post-menopausal women. Gee, that's great...but, on balance, it is probably better than dealing with the other issues. Oh, but wait..Tamoxifen can also have side effects: hot flashes, mood swings, nausea, fatigue. I may get to go through menopause AGAIN! But I am being optimistic and hoping I can dodge that bullet. It has been a week...so far so good. One week down, three years, eleven months and three weeks to go. I can do this!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Meanwhile back in the world of quarantine, social-distancing and mask-wearing, things continue one day at a time. Spring has made it to Maine. Our favorite crab-apple tree is in full bloom along with our azalea.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> The tulips and daffodils are finishing up their show and the irises and roses are about to begin theirs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> We planted our vegetable garden and locked it up behind fencing to discourage the squirrels who have viewed it as their own all-you-can-eat buffet in years past.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> The hummingbirds have returned to bicker over the four feeders we have put out for them. The yard is full of goldfinches, chickadees, woodpeckers, cardinals, catbirds, robins and bluejays. And this year, as an added treat, a family of baby chipmunks has emerged from under our garage to scamper and tumble on the lawn every morning, entertaining us as we enjoy our breakfast. The days are bright and long. I can take walks around the neighborhood and spy on gardens in progress. And some of the ice cream stands have opened, making those neighborhood walks even more worthwhile. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Who knows what the next few months will bring and it is probably useless to try and predict. We just need to ride the roller coaster, behave ourselves and say a prayer that some kind of long term plan will emerge. My heart aches to see </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">my precious baby grandson and his parents but</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"> FaceTime will have to be the closest I can get to them for the time being. Time spent lingering over coffee, lunch or a beer with good friends will have to wait but someday it will be possible again and won't we all enjoy it, along with hearty hugs all around!! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Stay healthy, patient and safe, my friends. And don't worry about what day it is. It doesn't really matter in the long run.</span></div>
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Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-59013006150181159182020-04-23T13:21:00.001-04:002020-04-23T17:17:20.951-04:00Gliding along...and then "disaster-zole" struck<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This has been a very rough week for my cancer treatment. After a successful surgery, a low oncotype dx test result which eliminated the need for chemotherapy and sixteen radiation treatments that were classic textbook experience, I figured I was on the downside of this mountain that had thrust itself in my path five months ago. All that was left was a little pill to take each day, an </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Aromase </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">(Estrogen) Inhibitor to prevent the fueling of any recurrences. A piece of cake. After all, I had dealt with estrogen inhibitors before. In my late thirties I was battling a stubborn case of recurring endometriosis. My doctor prescribed a different inhibitor to essentially shut down my ovaries and keep that nasty bugger at bay. It went beautifully with no side effects and eventually transitioning me into menopause. In my mind this would be no different.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I couldn't have been more wrong. After nineteen days of taking Anastrazole, the side effect train arrived this past weekend, barreling into town fully loaded and aimed right at me. At first it was a gentle cough, annoying but not debilitating, usually popping up in the late evening. Insomnia was the next issue, allowing me to get to sleep but only for short intervals. I spent hours staring at the ceiling, listening to gentle music, not allowing myself dark thoughts...all to no avail. The body aches were next, stabbing shots through my knees and ankles, gradually working their way up to my neck and shoulders. Then came the nausea, waves and waves of it, peaking on Sunday. Smells of Brendan cooking meals downstairs were cues for my stomach to turn somersaults. Needless to say, I skipped the visual and tasting experiences. Serious depression (another side effect) was closing in. THAT was when I said "NO MORE" and stopped taking the Anastrazole. I left my doctor two messages on MyChart, called the office Monday morning (Who knew it was a holiday...I can't even tell you what day of the week it is) and on Tuesday got verification that stopping was the right decision. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It has been four days since I stopped and am still wracked with neck pain, have developed Angioedema (a series of hive-like welts on my legs and torso), experience pop-out-of-nowhere periods of nausea and depression throughout each day, become fatigued just doing nothing, and am still dealing with the nagging cough. I recently bought a new FitBit, and according to its sleep manager I still can't manage a decent sleep score above 6o percent. I know this medication has a long half-life which means it will take a while to get out of my system but it really needs to happen SOON. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Thankfully, my oncologist seems to be on board with this process. His office called to set up a "Tele-Health" appointment for mid-May where I can outline my problems and we will come up with another option. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I suspect he is waiting until then to allow the full set of effects to hop that train and get OUT of town. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I would love to sit down with him in person but this damned virus makes that just too risky. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This has, by far, been the worst part of the journey from the moment I was told about these tumors. I hoped that this would be the climb out of the abyss not the hellish nightmare it has instead become. I have reached out to other women via Facebook (would you believe there are actually two support groups for Breast Cancer patients taking this drug?) and their experiences are often quite similar. Sadly, a few have said that their oncologists are insisting they stay with the medication. My advice to them was to find a new oncologist. No one should be put through this hell, regardless of the outcomes. The thought of spending four or five years in this state of misery is totally unacceptable. Life is too short. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I apologize for the "Debby Downer" tone of this blog post. But I believe in the principles of Full Disclosure. If I am going to document this episode in my life, it has to come with all of the scars and pimples. I feel extremely fortunate to have had a relatively easy trip through this Chamber of Horrors. My procedures and outcomes have gone well. I dodged a LOT of bullets. I have an incredible medical team, as well as a support system of family and friends that I give thanks for every day. This is not a journey I chose to take but, since I was given no other option, I need it to be as much an expression of me as possible. That means including the high points as well as the occasional low, like this.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This too will pass...there is a solution out there for this problem. With time, prayer, and the diligent efforts of my team, we will find it. And the good times will return. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-66208199357447270262020-04-18T16:18:00.001-04:002020-05-29T08:30:57.474-04:00Ready...Set...NO!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Suddenly everyone is talking about the end of the Covid-19 quarantine and easing social distancing. There are protests around the country by people who want to return to life as we knew it before this disaster struck. It hasn't affected them so obviously it is nothing to worry about. HOLY CRAP, PEOPLE...are you living under a rock or are you JUST PLAIN STUPID?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I get it...being confined to your house alone or with a partner or with a bunch of restless kids is really wearing away the fabric of your sanity. You are running out of ways to keep the day interesting and are starting to feel like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. The weather is turning nice and those beach walks and nature hikes are so inviting, not just to you but to all of your neighbors as well! The money is getting tight and the future status of your jobs and businesses is uncertain at best.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But we are still dealing with this deadly virus in all aspects of society. The numbers are still spiking in the U.S...18,558 NEW cases </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">and 1090 NEW deaths just </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">yesterday (April 17) according to the Center For Disease Control (CDC).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Yet, officials, under public pressure opened beaches in Florida which immediately filled with sunbathers, walkers, dog owners, surfers, and swimmers, ignoring any distancing rules and making them top contenders for the Darwin Awards.*</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The number of South Dakota residents who have tested positive for coronavirus has surpassed 1,100, and more than half of those cases have some connection to the <span class="link" style="box-sizing: border-box;">Smithfield Foods pork processing plant</span> in Sioux Falls. This comes as Governor Kristi Noem reiterated Tuesday that she won't be ordering people to stay home amid the <span style="color: #101010;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">coronavirus pandemic</span></span><span style="color: #101010;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">. </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Health officials said Wednesday that 180 more </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">people tested positive for COVID-19 in the last day, </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">bringing the statewide total to 1,168 confirmed cases. Of those, 934 cases were in Minnehaha County, the location of the Smithfield Foods plant, making the site one of the <span style="color: #101010;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">largest known clusters of COVID-19 cases</span></span> in the U.S. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As of Wednesday, 644 people with connections to the plant were infected, including 518 employees.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Protests in Michigan and Ohio are angrily demanding a reopening of the economy so unemployed workers and small businesses can see a return of paychecks and cashflow. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But what good will that economic stimulus do them if they fall sick and perhaps succumb to this deadly virus? Or, if they end up bringing it home to more vulnerable members of their families: elderly parents, immuno-suppressed spouses and children. Do they want the deaths of those innocent victims on their hands?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This is the most serious threat to the nation's collective health that we have ever seen. Our health care facilities are not equipped to handle significantly more victims. Life and death decisions are being made each day, forcing medical professionals to prioritize which patients will have access to the short supply of ventilators and other medical assistance. In addition, we are placing the lives of these health care professionals at high risk. Nearly 10,000 professional health care workers have died of the virus to date, a heartbreaking and devastating loss at a time when the need for their expertise is at its most critical. Many are making huge personal sacrifices, often relocating from their homes to avoid exposing their families, and working countless hours on end.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So, can't we all just sit home a little longer and give the virus a chance to subside naturally. Research has shown that staying out of public is the most effective way to stop the spread. Wearing face coverings, washing hands frequently and using hand sanitizer are effective but if we're not there to begin with we can't pick up the virus. We need to extend the opportunity for medical researchers to find an effective treatment and work on the long-term hope of a vaccine. Patience, People! Put away the "I want" in favor of the "I need to..."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This is not the garden variety flu that we are used to. It doesn't spike and recede with the seasons. It requires us to be so much more vigilant and pro-active if we hope to ever be able to return to some semblance of normal...and that normal is likely to be very different than anything we have ever known.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">STAY HOME...STAY SAFE</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">*<span style="background-color: white; color: #003366;">The Darwin Awards commemorate individuals who protect our gene pool by making the ultimate sacrifice of their own lives: by eliminating themselves in an extraordinarily idiotic manner, thereby improving our species' chance of long-term survival. In other words, they are cautionary tales about people who kill themselves in really stupid ways, and in doing so, significantly improve the gene pool by eliminating themselves from the human race.</span></span></div>
Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-57100330162852126522020-04-06T20:34:00.001-04:002020-05-29T08:31:10.569-04:00Extroverting in a Shut Down World<h2>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I am an extrovert...extreme. Contact with people is as essential to me as food, water and air. A quarantine goes against every fiber in my body. I understand and agree with what is happening now 100 percent, believe me. But my inner child is screaming "Let me OUT!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My husband, Brendan, is an introvert...extreme. He is never happier than when he is home puttering around the kitchen, poking around on the computer, working on a jigsaw puzzle or playing with the dog. How we ended up together is a story for another time but it has worked very well for over 44 years. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In a cruel twist of fate, he is also the only one allowed out to do the essential shopping and chores since my immune system has been compromised due to recent radiation for breast cancer. He picks up whatever we need during the designated "senior shopping hour" and races home as fast as he can, grateful to be in the familiar confines of home again. As soon as he gets home, I beg him for every detail of his excursion, desperately navigating a virtual trip to the store through his experience. Once in a while I am allowed to go, but only to sit in the car, so tantalizingly close to the hustle and bustle of people but forbidden to partake in the experience.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This will be our new normal for the forseeable future. I take every opportunity to walk outside and embrace the onset of of Spring in our yard and in the neighborhood but what I really want to do is...dare I say it...BE WITH PEOPLE! Brendan understands this and is very sweetly making attempts to be a sparkling conversationalist for my sake. However his comfort zone can only stretch so far and eventually the pain becomes obvious, something I call the "spinning eyeball effect" and I end his agony by retreating to my craft room to knit, read, watch tv or scan the internet. Under normal circumstances, I could make a quick call or email to a friend for a coffee shop rendezvous and relieve the pressure for him but these days...not an option. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I know there are a lot of us "E" types out there so I have begun to develop some coping strategies and hope others of you will share. Together we can and will get through this. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Here are some of my personal E-people tips for survival of this craziness:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">* The refrigerator and cupboards, actually the entire kitchen, will NOT ease the pain. I know E-friends who are using baking and cooking to substitute for social interaction. All well and good if you can deposit the end results on someone else's doorstep instead of in your own piehole. I have no such self-restraint (besides, the kitchen is Brendan's staked-out territory, requiring me to submit a prior reservation complete with substantial justification for the invasion of his turf...and he knows too well my propensity for boredom eating). I remind myself that when this is over it would be so nice to fit in the same clothes I wore when this started.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">* Daytime television is a mind-numbing wasteland, especially when paired with the kitchen issue outlined above. As E-folks you will find yourself carrying on conversations with the screen OUT LOUD, denouncing the stupidity of what you see. This is not a good mental health outcome, especially if you live with others who will overhear you and feel compelled to conduct an intervention. Don't ask me how I know this.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">* Practice moderation in your pursuit of recreational activities. Those crossword/jigsaw/sudoku/wordsearch puzzles will take on sinister attributes after the first five or six hours. You will find yourself viewing knitting needles as potential instruments of self-harm after mindlessly knitting fifty straight rows and then discovering that you have been knitting the wrong pattern for forty five of them. Rereading the same paragraph six times and STILL not remembering what you read means it's time to put the book down. Take frequent breaks to walk up and down the stairs (laundry might actually be a pleasant diversion with surprisingly productive results) or, better yet, take a walk in the yard or around the block, avoiding the temptation to stop and visit with anyone BECAUSE YOU COULD DIE. (Is that enough of a deterrent to curb the impulse?)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">* Take firm hold of the long to-do list you made at the onset of this debacle...you know, that "all those things I should be doing now that I have time" list and emphatically tear it into teeny tiny pieces, then place said pieces in the recycling bin. You're not going to do them so just get that notion out of the way up front. When this is over your closets will still be full of clothes you wore six sizes ago, your windows will be just as dirty as they were in February and that box with forty years worth of pictures and memorabilia will still be under your bed. Instead start each day with the knowledge that you will do whatever the hell you feel like doing that day. Your morale will thank me for that tip.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">* Speaking of starting the day...DO shower and get dressed. After weeks of this crap there is nothing more depressing than finding yourself in the same pajamas every day at three o'clock in the afternoon. Your roommate/spouse/significant other/pet will thank me for THAT tip!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">* Modern communication is a marvel...email, FaceTime, YouTube, Zoom, Facebook...all have brought us closer together but they have a dark side. Keep your "screen time" to a reasonable minimum. If you are a news junkie, set aside a specific time each day to check the latest information. Too much dire, depressing and often sensationally untrue stuff hitting you all day will eat at your spirits like a fat kid devours Snickers bars. Find a trusted source and stick with it. Keep your on-line chats with friends and family short and upbeat with a lot of laughter (appropriately timed to avoid them questioning your mental state) and positivity. Nobody likes a Debbie Downer or a Peter Pessimist.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">* Keep an eye on your neighbors, especially elderly or physically challenged ones from a safe distance. If you are going to the store, email or call them to see if you can get them anything. Maybe that single mom at home and trying to keep her sanity with three restless kids could use some groceries or some of those baked goods you whipped up left on her doorstep. (Avoid the temptation to leave a large bottle of wine unless specifically requested to.) Brendan routinely produces dinners, soups, breads, etc. enough for a family of six so we have "adopted" our elderly neighbor who lives alone to help us avoid a refrigerator bulging with leftovers. We also offer to pick up groceries to minimize her trips and dangerous exposure. She will call to request something or thank us and that's when I can get a bit of a social fix on the phone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">* And, above all, remember that this situation is temporary. There WILL come a day when we can leave our houses and apartments, come face to face with our loved ones and neighbors and indulge our natural inclinations to socialize as much as we want...no masks, no obligatory hand sanitizers, no six foot separations. The Introverts can stay at home if they want...we won't judge them. Truth be told, they will probably be very happy to have us out of their space!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Hang in there, everybody. This too shall pass.</span></div>
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Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-85383561373393361252020-03-30T11:37:00.001-04:002020-03-30T14:04:15.554-04:00Ring That Bell!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-weight: normal;">Sixteen treatments in the bag! No more ill-fitting johnnies and wonky bathrobes, no more flying spaceships aiming laser beams at my chest, no more terrible daytime TV in the waiting room. No more name, birthdate, area of treatment quizzes and gallons of hand sanitizer turning my hands into alligator skin. </span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But, more importantly, no more nasty cancer cells sneaking through my body looking for an opportunity to make trouble. We've nailed those bad guys once and for all!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I was so lucky to have a wonderful staff every day who were professional, compassionate and, dare I say it, fun! We laughed at the absurdity of the situation, me clinging to the handlebars above my head while they rubber-banded my feet together to keep me from moving after they lined me up under the crosshairs of the radiation spitter-outer (a technical term, I'm sure). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">To further ensure the success of my treatments I invoked the spirit of Wonder Woman. Each day I put on my special slippers</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">and said a prayer that the radiation was hunting down those rascally cancer cells and destroying them completely. For my final day, and the sublime experience of ringing the celebration bell, I decided to go full out, busting out my Wonder Woman Halloween costume. The staff seemed to enjoy the experience as much as I did.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Even the doctor who came in to do my final exam seemed impressed with my sartorial choice. Before he checked me over he wanted me to model my cape. I have a feeling he hasn't had too many patients show up in superhero garb for their radiology treatments.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">SO...what's next? Tomorrow I begin taking a little pill with a very big name. Anastrozole will inhibit the production of estrogen and prevent cancer cells from using that to fuel their growth. I can expect to be on that for five years with interim checkups, mammograms and blood tests. My surgeon and oncologist will stay connected, monitoring my progress closely. Just let those nasty cancer cells TRY to make a comeback! We'll be ready for them with guns a-blazing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif; font-size: large;">One chapter of this strange journey ends and it's on to the next one. 2020 has been a year of strangeness, and obviously not just for me. The lessons of the past few months have been profound. I now cherish each day with a new sense of joy and anticipation. Nothing is guaranteed. Family and friends are the true jewels in our lives and need to be treasured. Worrying never changes tomorrow. It only makes today miserable.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif; font-size: large;">We are most certainly in uncharted territory as we wait to see the ultimate impact of this terrible scourge making its way to every corner of the world. The only true weapons we have are common sense, a shared mission of compassion, and faith in the technological expertise of the medical community working so hard to get ahead of this crisis.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif; font-size: large;">Who knows what tomorrow will bring...but let's make the most of today!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif; font-size: large;">(And remember to schedule those Mammograms once this craziness is over!!!)</span></div>
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Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-88993333499053500312020-03-24T20:50:00.001-04:002020-05-29T08:32:16.540-04:00The True Heroes of this Crisis Wear Scrubs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; font-weight: normal;">This is week three of Radiation treatments for my breast cancer. To date, I've had twelve of my scheduled sixteen sessions. In the perfect "just my luck" scenario, this time period has also coincided with the ramp up of the Covid-19 debacle seizing the world by the <strike>cojones</strike> throat. Radiation causes me to be immuno-suppressed, no small consideration as this virus makes its way through the general population. I am also in one of the more vulnerable age categories, <strike>40's</strike> <strike>50's</strike> whatever... Lucky me.</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; font-weight: normal;">For the most part, its impact on me has been minimal. I am blessed with a devoted husband who gleefully shops the senior hour at the grocery store, plans and executes delicious meals and drives me to my radiation therapy. But there is where things have been getting weirder and weirder. Here is a chronology of the experience.</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Day One: We show up, walk into the facility together, figure out my barcode scan-in process [actually, he does...I stand there trying to figure out where the scanner IS], and then separate at the door to the treatment area. He sits in the waiting room just outside the area, reads his book and chats with the receptionist. I go in, change into the always-attractive and fashion forward johnny and robe, wait in the inner waiting room furnished with stacks of great magazines that are actually from THIS year, am called in, give my name, birthdate and area of treatment and spend a few short minutes under the rotating buzzing mini-spaceship. End of appointment.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Day Two: Pretty much the same, although Brendan opts to wait in the Solarium just inside the door where he can read a book, or work on the giant jigsaw puzzle on the table and chat with other family members waiting. He opts to read and not chat. My routine is the same.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Day Five: Signs appear stating that family members are no longer allowed in the building and must wait in the car. No big deal; this eliminates the chat issue. [Yeah, he's the introvert to my extrovert.] </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Day Six: Multiple large signs appear requiring the use of the hand sanitizer pumps before entering any doorway. Because of an earlier doctor's appointment nearby, Brendan and I opt to bring some sandwiches and eat in the cafeteria, which closes to the public the following day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Day Seven: Signs are revised to include using sanitizer pumps AFTER leaving any doorway.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Day Eight: The magazines in the inner waiting room have disappeared and chairs are moved further apart. A separate area for patients with face masks is walled off.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Day Nine: In addition to the usual questions about my name, birthdate and treatment area, I have to use every hand sanitizer pump between the front door and the treatment table (a total of five) and affirm that I do not have a cough, a fever or shortness of breath.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Day Ten: The pre-treatment "quiz" is amended to add the question whether I have been in contact with anyone who has tested positive for Covid-19.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Day Eleven: Driving up to the facility requires taking a certain route indicated by staff with red "airport tarmac" wands, stopping at two checkpoints to answer the health questions [at both checkpoints] and receiving a "check-in" sticker. Brendan is given a designated area to park while he waits.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Day Twelve: Another checkpoint is added inside the facility to screen all people walking in, directing them to the correct destination and ensuring all hand sanitizers are being used. All staff in the facility are wearing medical masks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Through all of this, the staff have retained their wonderfully cheerful attitudes, despite being "challenged" at times, usually by an older patient who is clearly frightened by all of this protocol. Granted, my appointments have been in the morning; heaven only knows how long their patience could hold out over a long day of treatments and irritable patients. They are truly heroes to go through all of this. It can't be easy, for sure.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">These doctors, nurses, technicians and administrators cannot "shelter in place". Instead they must stay on the job to work with patients, some severely immuno-compromised and in desperate need of the therapies the center offers to keep them alive while also potentially exposing them to a deadly virus. Then these staff members return to their families praying that they are not conveying anything harmful home. It is truly a delicate balance. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Today there was a brief power outage as I waited to go in for my treatment. The technicians and nurse on duty stayed calm, checked to make sure we were all ok [it got VERY dark for a few moments], assured us that there would be only a minor delay while the equipment rebooted and carried on. Their professional demeanor soothed a lot of nerves, including mine! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I feel fortunate to be as healthy as I am. With only four more radiation sessions left I feel significantly fatigued [two pages of a book and I am down for the count] but have otherwise had no adverse effects. The stories I hear from others in the waiting area: four hour round trip drives every day, multiple cancer sites in advanced stages, debilitating side effects from concurrent chemo treatments...all give me a profound sense of gratitude for my situation and the caring professionals in whose hands I have been placed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It's ALL going to be ok in the end. Everything. We just need to be patient, use common sense and keep our sense of humor.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Addendum: This is a family fight and this is my sister Betsy, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">a Nurse Practicioner on the front lines in Florida. I am SO very proud of her and all of her fellow health care workers!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-14822220376526993392020-03-17T16:00:00.001-04:002020-05-29T08:32:16.484-04:00What a difference a year makes!โ๏ธ<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">A year ago today I was in Dublin watching the St. Patrick's Day parade and enjoying Irish coffee and Guinness with friends and a huge crowd of strangers. This year I am in house quarantine and leaving the house only to get daily doses of radiation. Who woulda thunk it?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Life has been turned upside down for everyone by the Corona Virus. No St Patrick Day parades ANYWHERE, people worried about scoring enough hand sanitizer and toilet paper (not sure why that one became such a critical issue) to see them through the foreseeable future. Restaurants, bars, bowling alleys, movie theaters, schools, coffee shops...all closed with patrons and staff alike worried about their futures. Families are separated, vacations cancelled, hospitals bracing for the worst. It is truly a surreal environment. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Yet, in the midst of it all, Spring is still arriving. The unmistakable sights of green shoots pushing through the ground, vee formations of geese heading north and robins foraging for worms on softened lawns verify that. Nature moves on, following patterns established long before humans arrived to complicate things. That gives me hope for our earth, despite the dire predictions for its future.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I have completed seven doses of radiation, with nine more to go. So far the process has been relatively easy. I arrive a few minutes early, change into those most fashionable of gowns and robes and await the summons into the radiation room. I have added my own personal good luck charm to the wardrobe, a special pair of slipper socks: </span></div>
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These have earned me the nickname "Wonder Woman" from the staff, who think they are magic. This has been a tough time for them since they have to be exceptionally vigilant and cautious, working with such a high risk population. They have implemented some additional precautions including requiring patients to use EVERY hand sanitizing station between the front door and the radiation room, five in total. Anyone with a cough is issued a mask and someone with a fever or severe shortness of breath is requested to cancel. Today I saw a man sent home with breathing issues. He drives over an hour each day for his treatment and has months of treatments ahead of him. There are many patients like that in the 30+ people that each of the two radiation rooms handle each day. I feel very fortunate to be as healthy as I am and to only have a twenty minute drive for this short episode in my life. As many of you have assured me, "I've got this!"</div>
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With so many of us hunkered down for the duration and not used to keeping ourselves busy, it's a good idea to think creatively. Thanks to a facebook post from my friend Moira, I found this listing from an Australian company. I thought it was a brilliant list. But, then I again, I am easily amused. Take a look:</div>
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You can go to the website listed at the bottom and request a PDF version with hotlinks. Not every idea appeals to everyone, of course (I leave anything to do with the kitchen to Mr. B, my master chef!) but there are some ideas that I would not have thought of. There is no reason to mope around the house, lamenting the current situation and this list proves it.</div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">My sister Betsy, a nurse and a mom, also offers some great advice. (Yeah, she's the one we "tortured" as a child but she turned out fantastic despite that experience!) She says, "</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(29, 33, 41); color: #1d2129;">This social distancing and self quarantine does not mean you canโt go outside. You all need to go out and experience nature - a walk, hike, stroll, boat trip - anything to get you outside. You canโt stay inside watching the news all day. Mother nature has alot to teach us. Turn off the TV, go outside. Wipe the doorknob as you leave."</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(29, 33, 41); color: #1d2129;"> </span></span></div>
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Also, don't forget about your neighbors. Check in on anyone alone (via email, phone, note on their door or hand signals through the windows). This is a great time to learn FaceTime or VideoCalling to stay in touch. Let's take care of each other!</div>
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SO, Happy St. Patrick's Day everyone! Grab your favorite beverage, lift it high and say SLAINTE! It means "Health" in Gaelic and will ward off all the Corona Virus nasties...guaranteed!! </div>
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Oh...and don't forget to WASH YOUR HANDS!!!</div>
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</span>Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-35140922213709217652020-03-09T16:43:00.002-04:002020-03-09T16:52:04.551-04:00And AWAAAAAAY We Go!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Day One is in the books. No nervousness, just a sense of relief that this wagon is on the move again! I wore my lucky socks so I knew all would go well.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The Radiation Team was ready for me with warm blankets (Gawd, I LOVE those warm blankets) and I assumed my position on the platform. The crew aligned the machinery with my tattoos, chanting some mysterious numbers which I assume were the settings and then it was time to let 'er rip! The music playing was YMCA and they cautioned me not to dance, as much as I may want to. I told them not to worry as I clearly do not have a gift for that activity and wouldn't want to embarass myself anymore than I already have. (I could have added that it is a little difficult to feel the urge to boogie when you are lying under a mini-spaceship with your boobs exposed to the world.) In just a few minutes it was over and time to rejoin humanity. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">BUT FIRST: Mondays are check-in days so I met with a nurse who went over skin care and a doctor who just stopped in to say hello and see if I had any questions. I assume future Mondays will include a check of the radiation site but since it was Day One, there was nothing to see. I asked him about the breathing debacle and, basically, if I was a mutant of some kind for not being able to hyperinflate my lungs. He laughed (sort of) and said that it had been a long shot from the outset and they didn't really expect that I would have been able to hit the mark but wanted to give it a try. That made me feel better, but also a little annoyed that they were setting me up that way. Oh well, water under the bridge at this point. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Time to get dressed and head out to the lounge where Brendan was waiting. He was reading but also eavesdropping on an older couple who were engaged in a heated argument over a huge jigsaw puzzle that was on the table. "That piece DOES NOT go there"..."It's the ONLY place it can go"...."The colors don't match"..."What do you know, you're colorblind"...We couldn't get out of there fast enough, hoping that isn't us in another ten years.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I did run into a bit of a roadblock trying to follow the nurse's skin care orders. She instructed me to purchase Fruit of the Earth clear Aloe Vera gel with no alcohol to apply to my skin twice daily. It turns out that is a basic ingredient in homemade hand sanitizer and with everyone in panic mode over the Corona Virus and no commercial hand sanitizer available, there is no Aloe Vera gel to be had. Yikes! Every drugstore and grocery chain is out and even Amazon is backordered. Whole foods had a dinky little tube of some other brand with a hefty price tag but I bought it anyway. Later I found some of the "good stuff" on...drum roll... EBAY!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It will arrive next week (hopefully). Timing is everything in this world, and, as usual, mine sucks! C'mon people, just wash your hands WELL and you'll be fine! That has been proven to be much more effective than hand sanitizers!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Now put the Aloe Vera gel back on the shelf, back away and head for the soap aisle. My fellow radiation buddies and I thank you in advance!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So, one treatment down, fifteen more to go. Thankfully the trip is only a twenty minute commute but we both will be glad when it's over. I think even Brendan's car is getting a little bored with the trip. But it will all be worth it in the end if it zaps any and all nasty little cancer boogers, sending them to cancer hell FOR GOOD! It will be nice to get my life back again! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> Don't forget those mammograms, Ladies!! They save lives!!</span></div>
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Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-59760015027931790652020-03-06T15:11:00.003-05:002020-03-06T15:43:48.855-05:00About that breathing thing? Totally Overrated! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Crisis over. Situation returned to normal (at least normal for me). The new protocol uses different coordinates to avoid my heart area and any need to become a human balloon. I am beyond grateful to the amazing staff who worked out the new settings and dodged that bullet for me. This morning's session was relaxed as they did new scans and took the necessary readings so I can begin the actual radiation on Monday morning. I can almost say I am looking forward to it but, more accurately, I am looking forward to getting it started because the sooner it starts, the sooner it ends. There will be sixteen sessions, every weekday (M-F) until March 30. Once done, it will be a terrific way to celebrate Spring, a season of new beginnings and hope.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The chart above describes my aspirations for this next stage perfectly. The superpowers have already been arriving in the form of the army of supporters who have seen me through this so far. You all know who you are and I could bear-hug every one of you! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">After my last ("I'm a failure at breathing yada yada yada") post there was a huge outpouring of encouragement, support and positive energy in the form of emails, texts, and facebook posts. But to REALLY </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">prevent me from wallowing in a giant tub of "poor me" pudding, my youngest sister Betsy sent this along:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc3W0ASO2WWOiXuDh2aPBhoFICgZaC1XmUkeeFds8RPHwb0gODFjrQXvTEidM0NyoPmm-Q-hcHHSW98okXQmnRGCOtbQemFqHmva2apU8TfBC_mt29-Hq3q7K06xPZfIhxbaY9/s1600/8311F05E-CB20-4550-A133-08121B088BEC_4_5005_c.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="310" data-original-width="239" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc3W0ASO2WWOiXuDh2aPBhoFICgZaC1XmUkeeFds8RPHwb0gODFjrQXvTEidM0NyoPmm-Q-hcHHSW98okXQmnRGCOtbQemFqHmva2apU8TfBC_mt29-Hq3q7K06xPZfIhxbaY9/s320/8311F05E-CB20-4550-A133-08121B088BEC_4_5005_c.jpeg" width="246" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Our family motto has always been "Tease and Be Teased: Dish it out but get ready to have it come right back in spades!" Of all of my siblings (two sisters, one brother), Betsy has the most right to payback. As the youngest she endured over-the-top harassment at our hands. We would pull her cute little baby toes until the joints cracked. [To this day she claims her current size 11 shoe size is a direct result.] She was our entertainment at the family dinner table as kids when we would signal her to fart on command and she would dutifully comply, much to our parents frustration, since the actual signaller was rarely identified. We awarded her extra points if we were having dinner guests, thus escalating the parental flashpoint. Countless dinners went unfinished as we were ALL banished to our rooms, giggling uncontrollably as we left the dining room.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So I particularly enjoyed this cartoon and laughed until the tears were running down my face. Well played, Betsy!! It also helped me get perspective on the issue. This was NOT going to be an insurmountable obstacle, not when I have come this far. And it wasn't. It's now resolved and I'm ready for the job at hand.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And about those superpowers...I'm thinking of revising my planned tattoo when this is all over. Something along these lines might be pretty cool: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Cancer, you've messed with the WRONG sister! And I've got an army of supporters to back me up on that!!!</span></h2>
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Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-21936626165928665372020-03-04T20:14:00.001-05:002020-03-04T20:30:26.965-05:00Every day can't be a banner day in this journey...but it still sucks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">There are some days when the stars align perfectly, the toast lands jelly side up, all the traffic lights turn green as you approach, all is right with the world. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Today was not one of those days. In true roller coaster mode, fresh from my joy of yesterday's test results, I discovered the universe has a sense of humor and loves a good smackdown to put me back in my place.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The radiation site is on the left side very close to my heart. In order to minimize any risk I need to be able to hyperinflate my lungs to increase the distance between the two. No problem...I breathe every day...a lot. I'm not a smoker, have no respiratory issues, am in relatively good shape so it would be a piece of cake. Or so I thought.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Ok, so who flunks breathing? This goober, that's who! My first radiation treatment was scheduled for this afternoon. I was very excited to get this process going and move on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I showed up for my appointment early, followed directions for which way to put on the johnny and the robe (side comment: SOMEBODY please design a new version of these horrors with ties that make sense, please!) and headed into the room with all of the space age machinery. I was pleasantly greeted by three lovely technicians who were obviously doing their best to make me comfortable. They positioned me on the table and told me not to move. I didn't. Next they told me that they need to scan my breathing using a catscan and x-ray process. They began their instructions: Take a deep breath and hold it. More. More. Ok, breathe. Let's try again. And again. And again. And again. Something's not right. Finally, they told me they will have to consult with the doctor/physicist to come up with another plan. WTF? In other words, I failed. I felt like a complete idiot. This should have been a no-brainer. Of all of the hurdles in this process, I never saw this one coming. The technicians were very kind, assuring me that I am not the first one they have had with this issue but I still felt like the kid who has to have the training wheels put back on her bike while everyone else gets to move on to the ten-speeds. They get to move on to chapter books and I am handed a coloring book and some jumbo crayons. Sheesh, talk about failing Life 101!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The worst part was the walk of shame out to the waiting room to tell Brendan the news. He looked at me like I was speaking some foreign language. Yes, dear, I flunked BREATHING, that thing we all do without even thinking about it. To be fair, he was very supportive, as usual, but I have to think he was thinking different thoughts than the soothing ones he expressed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Friday morning at 9:30 I will go back and they will try the new plan developed just for me, the breathing idiot. And then Monday, hopefully, the sixteen days of treatment begins. Another delay in this interminable nightmare. I know it will be insignificant in the end but right now it feels like a brick wall right in the middle of the path placed there by no one other than ME and my uncooperative lungs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This is Restaurant Week in Maine, a chance for restaurants to showcase a special price fixed menu. We had planned to go out tonight to celebrate the start of the Radiation process. We went anyway, to a lovely restaurant called Eighteen95 in an old armory downtown. But instead of having a celebratory beer, I chose a Margarita to assuage my feelings of dissapointment and give myself a little self-pitying buzz. It was still a great meal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And all will be right again, come Friday, I know (but I am practicing holding my breath just in case!)</span></div>
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Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-69992947767719305512020-03-03T13:11:00.000-05:002020-03-03T13:11:24.753-05:00A Great Day!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Today the <a href="https://www.breastcancer.org/symptoms/testing/types/oncotype_dx">Oncotype DX</a> score <i>FINALLY </i>arrived. We met with Dr. Inhorn, my oncologist who came in smiling (a good sign) and announced, "Good News". We held our breath as he said, "you scored a <b>nine</b>." As both Brendan and I exhaled, Dr. Inhorn could see just how relieved we were. He reiterated that there would be <i>no chemo, </i>a huge relief not just because of that ordeal but because it would delay radiation for three months, stretching out this whole surreal experience to nearly eight months! He knew that my first radiation treatment is scheduled for tomorrow so we knew the results had come just in time. Danielle, his medical assistant turned out to be the true hero. She was the one who made call after call to the insurance company (the "villains" in this saga) to convince them that these results were critical and needed to be released before radiation starts. I think she wore them down to the point that they approved them just to keep her from calling again...God Bless Her! She deserves a superhero cape in my opinion!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So now I move on to sixteen days of radiation, ending in late March. I then begin taking <a href="https://www.breastcancer.org/treatment/hormonal/aromatase_inhibitors/arimidex">Anastrozole</a>, an estrogen inhibitor, effective because my tumors were positive for estrogen receptors. The treatment plan calls for five years of this medication with six month checkups. Side effects can be significant but we'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Joint and Muscle pain is the chief one that Dr. Inhorn mentioned so I need to get back into my walking/gym routine. [Hello, rowing machine, my good friend...I've missed you ๐ฃโโ๏ธ .] It's also time to load up my phone with some good books from Audible and get back to my morning walks๐ถโโ๏ธon the Back Cove. Now if we can just convince Mother Nature to hold off on the blizzards for a few more weeks, I'll be golden! Brendan is excited because he heard "hiking" somewhere in that discussion and is already fantasizing about dragging me up his bucket list of mountains. Those will be interesting blog posts unless he learns to read map contour lines better. I don't enjoy steep elevation hiking (and my knees go into full-on protest mode) so our past mountain hiking history is a bit checkered, replete with crying jags and four letter words [all mine, I'll admit.] </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So Nine is my new lucky number. I googled it and found some great things about it:</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">๐นNine is the number of magic. ๐ฎ๐๐ฉ</span></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">๐นNine is a sacred number. ๐๐ป๐ฟ๐</span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">๐นNine is the number of completion and fulfillment.๐งโโ๏ธ๐๐ฅ</span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">๐นNine is a symbol of wisdom and good leadership.๐๐ฆ๐</span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">๐นNine is the number of heaven.๐ผ๐๐</span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">All true for me...Plus Nine is my birth month โ๏ธ</span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">So the signs look promising! Full speed ahead to a cure...and damn the torpedos!</span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Maybe if I ever do get that tattoo, it will be </span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">Thanks again to everyone sending their cosmic well-wishes to insure that low number...it WORKED!๐</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">Oh...and don't forget about those mammograms, ladies! โค๏ธ</span></span></div>
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Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-25350461216042676712020-02-26T17:21:00.001-05:002020-02-26T17:21:42.829-05:00Heading into the tube...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The Oncotype DX results still aren't back. Apparently, for genomic testing ๐งฌ the insurance company requires a "treatment plan" despite the fact that this test will be the only way that the doctors CAN determine a treatment plan. Around and around in circles we go... </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Hopefully the situation will be resolved and we will have results within the next week.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">MEANWHILE...my radiologist decided to go ahead with the preparations for Radiation Therapy on the assumption that I won't need chemo. (From his mouth to God's ears!) So today we headed out to MMC Radiation Therapy for a "Simulation" where I was scanned and outfitted with three tattoos (three little dots...not the lightning bolts โก๏ธโก๏ธI was hoping for ๐) to align me correctly for each of the 16 treatments I will undergo. Dr. Bristol and his three wonderful assistants positioned me in the "tube", a super high tech machine that will deliver the doses of radiation to the exact areas where the breast cancer occurred. They had me practice holding my breath to inflate my lungs and distance the radiation as far as possible from my heart to avoid any possibility of damage. Other than the fact that the room was <i>freezing, </i>it was an easy and comfortable process. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">My first treatment is scheduled for next Wednesday, March 4 at 3:30. I will also get the full schedule of treatments. If, by some chance, the test results arrive before then and indicate the need for chemo, the radiation process will be put on hold until that is completed. I will be meeting with Dr. Inhorn, my oncologist the day before to [hopefully] get my magic number which [๐ค] signals no chemo and to discuss post-radiation hormone suppressants. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">If all goes as planned, I will finish Radiation on March 25 and life should become relatively normal thereafter. I'll have some possible side effects to contend with such as fatigue and "sunburning" of the radiation site. Given my tendency to burn easily [thank you Irish complexion!] I will have to be pretty aggressive with the treatment cream they will provide. I may also have to forego my bra to minimize irritation and wear soft, loose-fitting tops...a throwback to my hippie days!!โ๐ปMaybe I can dig out some old tie-dyes โฎ๏ธ. How GROOVY would that be? Ok, maybe not...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">But things are moving along. The surgery site has healed well, I continue to feel good and am still very optimistic that this adventure into the world of tests and tumors will be ending shortly, leaving me none the worse for wear.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I couldn't have endured the past four months without all of the amazing support that poured into my life. Brendan deserves a medal for being my rock and staying by my side for every minute of this roller coaster ride. Each step was a little easier thanks to family and friends and their "You've Got This" messages. A special thanks to my many Alpha Sigma sorority sisters who have proved that 50 years is but a blink of an eye when "Friends, Friends, Friends we will always be"! Each facebook message, get well card, lovely [or quirky] gift, email encouragement, phone call, visit or in person conversation kept me going and convinced me that this will soon be an episode for my lifetime rearview mirror. I love you all and can never adequately thank you for the difference you have made.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Keep those good thoughts coming...and don't forget to get those Mammograms, ladies!! Early detection saves lives!!! </span></div>
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Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-56476943582501809782020-02-21T20:53:00.002-05:002020-02-21T21:21:36.526-05:00The Healing Power of Horses<h2>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I have a happy place, a refuge from the distractions of a world that, these days, seems bent on making life complicated, challenging and maddenly negative. When I arrive there all of that disappears. A cheerful staff greets me and, most beautifully, dozens of horses welcome me with whinnies, demands for nose kisses and unconditional acceptance. My happy place is a horse shelter, the Maine State Society for the Protectional of Animals. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The name is a bit cumbersome and belies the fact that it is a stand-alone organization, unaffiliated with the state (and thus receiving no state funds) and that it is strictly an equine shelter, housing horses and an occasional donkey or mule. But its mission is clear: provide refuge, rehabilitation, and placement of seized equines, support the placement of surrenders, and educate the public. The vision is the elimination of equine abuse and neglect. And it relies solely on donations to accomplish a huge job.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Many of my equine friends have been dealt a bad hand early in life. Abuse, neglect, poor medical health and other factors beyond their control have compromised their potential and left them vulnerable. In many cases MSSPA is their last hope. They arrive with fragile bodies and broken spirits, undernourished, riddled with parasites, dealing with cracked or overgrown hooves, damaged legs and backs, sporting coats, manes and tails that badly need attention. Their heads are lowered with a look of hopelessness and despair in their eyes. We are heartbroken for them and angry at the circumstances that bring them to us. Some of them are beyond the point of return to the beauty and pride which should be their birthright and the staff sadly have to consign them to their fate, but not before putting up a valiant fight.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">A team of farm staff along with vets and farriers begins the long process of bringing each horse back to the best of their ability. The transformation can be miraculous in some cases; in others the goal is to provide palliative care to ease the pain of a chronic leg or back injury which will never heal but will allow the horse to live comfortably for whatever time remains. Some horses will recover to the point where they can be provided training to be adopted into a loving home and even become wonderful saddle horses. Others will stay with us, enjoying a spacious stall, nutritious meals, expert medical care, the company of other horses and long days in grassy paddocks basking in the sun.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My jobs there as a volunteer are varied. I clean stalls and provide comfortable bedding, fresh hay and water. I also help in the office, generating descriptive stall cards for each new horse and inputting data into the volunteer data base. By far my favorite duty is conducting tours of the farm for the many visitors on Saturday afternoons and during school vacations. It is especially gratifying to introduce people, many of whom have never been near a horse, to sweet Diana, the 17 hand Belgian, quirky Apollo who was an orphan foal and is just learning appropriate social skills, complacent Tonka who has earned the nickname Uncle Tonka for his gentle nature and willingness to step in as a surrogate parent, and Windy River, the one year old foal who was born on the farm to Daphne, a feral mare rescued shortly after she became pregnant. Each of the 35+ horses has a distinct personality but all seem to enjoy the attention of visitors, volunteers and staff. And we, in turn, have a special place in our hearts for each of them. Yes, I have my favorites. How can I not love Windy River who has always known love and care and responds like an overgrown puppy? Beautiful Ebony, a petite mare radiates sweetness and headstrong Jafaar, the Arabian teenager craves attention and will literally rattle his stall door if he feels overlooked. Gentle giant Bodie is often paired with the youngsters in hopes that his gentlemanly manners will serve as models (so far THAT has not worked for Apollo and Jafaar, the chief targets!). And then there is Belle, the other Belgian who insists on staying outdoors year round (with a run-in shelter) and loves sunbathing in her roadside paddock, laying out prone and often prompting passing drivers to pull in to inform us that we have a dead horse in the field...until we call her with apple in hand and she miraculously comes to life and gallops over to demonstrate her "resurrection". Valiant and sweet Dexter came to the farm with grossly overgrown hooves that his owner clumsily trimmed with a hacksaw, rendering him virtually unable to walk and prone to a long sequence of abscesses which nearly cost him his life. With persistent attention from a farrier over many months his hooves are now perfect and healthy. During that entire process, despite being in excruciating pain, he never abandoned his sweet nature and was always available to visitors for a neck scratch and a nose kiss. We recently acquired two mini-horses, Treasure and Sage whose issue was not malnutrition, but rather a little TOO much nutrition. Both of them "rolled" into the farm like the little teapot "short and stout" and are now on strict diets, much to their displeasure. Little do they realize that we are giving them a better chance at a longer, happier life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Those are just a few of the reasons I look forward to my hours at the farm. Whatever else is going on in my life, I know my spirits will be lifted when I walk into the barn and hear the nickering, neighing, whinnying and other greetings from my four legged friends. They seem glad to see me and I am ALWAYS so glad to see them. It truly IS my happy place.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Romeo and Marley, two former residents who were personal favorites and have since been adopted to loving homes.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: large; text-align: start;">A happy Romeo out in the paddock.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Now THAT'S a nose!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A Clean barn is a happy barn<br /><br /></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Bell in "sunbathing" mode</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Horses on the Hill</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: large;">Heading out to the paddock</span> </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Jafaar is definitely up to something!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Windy River at one month old. He will celebrate his first birthday on March 1st with a full-out birthday party at the farm. All are invited to come join the celebration!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">For more information, check out the website at www.msspa.org</span></div>
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Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-13797803698147700172020-02-20T18:51:00.002-05:002020-02-21T08:58:36.625-05:00Taking the bumps with the lumps...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So, foolish me for assuming that this process would go totally smoothly. Tomorrow I was scheduled to meet with Dr. Inhorn, my oncologist, to learn the results of the genomic testing on the breast tumor. Those results will determine whether my next step is chemotherapy or radiation. OF COURSE, the lab doesn't have my results ready so the appointment will have to be postponed until the first week of March when Dr. Inhorn is back from his hospital rotation. Dr. Bristol, the Oncology Radiologist was supposed to meet with me on Wednesday to do a preliminary catscan and tattoo the spots for the radiation but he has to wait until this "next step" decision is made so that appointment will have to be postponed. To say I am disappointed would be a mild understatement. But, as the quote above advises, I am desperately trying to learn to dance in this storm. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I have managed to stay out of the dark places in my head so far, mostly because the prognosis is so positive and I have the benefit of such an incredible support network to keep me going. But every once in a while a few shadows creep in and the stress of the past four months begins to eat away at my optimism. I know everything will be fine in the end...I just want the damn end to get here! And delays like this just add fuel to the fires of my frustration. I guess that makes me human. I think it would be impossible for anyone to sustain a "roses and sunshine" attitude throughout this entire ordeal (unless she was a relentless Pollyanna...and nobody really likes those, admit it!) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I have not lost sight of the fact that I am incredibly blessed to have the people in my life, especially Brendan, my patient life partner, who has his own anxiety about all of this and deserves an Oscar for his efforts to maintain the "jelly side up" approach to it all for my benefit. The support of my family and friends has been huge and I love you all for being there for me more than you can EVER know! And I know I have placed my life in the hands of the best medical team available, bar none. I feel more than a little embarrassed by my anger and disappointment at this latest [temporary] delay but also feel the need to let off a little steam from the pressure of the overall situation which has dragged on for so long. Plus I promised so many of you the number news tomorrow ๐. And, truly, that's all this is, a bit of frustration caused by some frazzled nerves. I am fine and will be back on the Smiling Cancer Warrior chariot very soon...probably by the time you are reading this. So no measures are required on your part...I know your love and support are out there because I truly can feel them. Just indulge me this one little petulant post and it will be out of my system, I promise!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And here is a representation of my attempt to dance in the rain:</span></div>
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Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26259945.post-63957104939874713102020-02-06T19:53:00.002-05:002020-02-07T09:27:19.957-05:00Unstoppable<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="Pink breast cancer ribbon against pink background" src="https://www.mdanderson.org/content/mda/en/publications/cancerwise/2019/12/6-advances-in-breast-cancer-diagnosis-and-treatment/jcr:content/blog/adaptiveimage.resize.278.0.medium.jpg/1575576924970.jpg" srcset="https://www.mdanderson.org/content/mda/en/publications/cancerwise/2019/12/6-advances-in-breast-cancer-diagnosis-and-treatment/jcr:content/blog/adaptiveimage.resize.278.0.medium.jpg/1575576924970.jpg 1x, https://www.mdanderson.org/content/mda/en/publications/cancerwise/2019/12/6-advances-in-breast-cancer-diagnosis-and-treatment/jcr:content/blog/adaptiveimage.resize.556.0.high.jpg/1575576924970.jpg 2x" style="font-weight: normal;" /></h2>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Today was followup day after my lumpectomy sixteen days ago. I awoke with the song "Unstoppable" from the Broadway show Tootsie in my head and it has been doing a constant loop all day, something I take to be a good sign, despite feeling a little under the weather. And speaking of weather, another stellar Maine February day greeted us: constant snow and below freezing temps...Yay [sarcasm alert]. Being a sturdy upstate New York girl by origin, I don't mind driving in winter weather but poor Mr. B absolutely hates it. Nonetheless he did the snowblower thing and took a deep breath before we left for our full afternoon of appointments. It wasn't quite the white-knuckle ride we had the day of my biopsy in December but I could sense he was well out of his comfort zone. He was a trooper though and never complained.โค๏ธ</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">First meeting was with my surgeon, Dr. Teller. She checked me over and declared me well on the road to recovery. The two incisions are healing nicely and the swelling has reduced significantly. She then went over the pathology report and translated the medical jargon for us. The smaller tumor was a 1 cm invasive lobular tumor, estrogen and progesterone receptive and with cells that "had behaved themselves", classifying it as a grade 1 (the best case). Margins were clean so she had removed it in entirety.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The larger tumor was more of a bad boy. It was a 2cm invasive ductal, also estrogen and progesterone receptive but with cells which had "acted up" a bit, classifying it as a grade 2, like a bunch of neighborhood kids let loose with cans of shaving cream. [Grade 3 cells are the true nasties, running amok with the cell architecture and disrupting their neighbors like a continuous wild frat party]. Dr. Teller got clean margins on that troublemaker so it is totally gonzo!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">She also took three sentinel lymph nodes using the radioactive seeds to track them. They all tested completely negative indicating that the "party" had been contained. All great news to be sure!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The next meeting was with the Oncologist, Dr. Inhorn. He and Ashley, his Nurse Practicioner spent a good deal of time with us, outlining some next steps in great detail. He was a bit surprised that I had both a ductal and a lobular tumor since typically women usually have one or the other. But, as he indicated, "cancer" and "typical" don't really belong in the same sentence. He talked to us about a relatively new test called <span style="color: red;"><a href="https://www.breastcancer.org/symptoms/testing/types/oncotype_dx">OncotypeDX</a></span>. Chemotherapy wasn't originally a part of my treatment plan but this test, studied and written up in the New England Journal of Medicine in 2018 provides a more definitive predictor of chemo's effectiveness in preventing future recurrences of tumors like mine. My larger tumor will be genetically analyzed and assigned a number based on its genetic makeup ("markers"). A number lower than 26 would mean I skip chemo and go right to radiation. A higher number means chemo would likely snuff the crap out of any residual cancer and send it packing. B and I both agreed that it was a test worth taking. Results will take two weeks, arriving right before I am scheduled to begin Radiation. Over 26 and I "drink the kool-aid" first for three months; under 26 and I go right to radiation. I've never found myself hoping for a low score on a test in my life but you can bet your butt I'm looking for one now! The magic reveal date will be February 21st. Cross your fingers, gang...and say a few prayers if so inclined. I will still need to take Estrogen Suppressant medication by pill for five years after the radiation, likely an aromatase inhibitor such as <a href="https://medlineplus.gov/druginfo/meds/a696018.html">anastrozole</a>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Our final meeting was with Dr. Bristol, the radiologist. In contrast to Dr. Inhorn's mild and conservative manner, very paternal, scientific and cerebral, Dr. Bristol breezed in wearing a sports warm-up suit and athletic shoes...very hip. He spoke about ten times faster than either Dr. Teller or Dr. Inhorn, going over the facts of my case completely in about 90 seconds. He had met with both previous doctors so knew exactly what was going on and radiated (sorry!) complete assurance. He outlined the Radiation process which will be the same whether it begins in two weeks or after three months of chemo: sixteen sessions over a three week period with some very mild side effects.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">All three doctors, while totally different in demeanor, left us a complete sense of confidence that we were in the right place. They are the perfect team, in our opinion, each with a special expertise and total respect for the other members' skills and judgement. Together they are truly <b>Unstoppable</b>!!! I am totally convinced that I am most definitely on my way to a complete cure. And this wild ride will all have been worth every moment!</span>Downeastyarnhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727309327923999013noreply@blogger.com0