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Wednesday, April 23, 2014


  I watched our dog, Poindexter, leave with Cindy Brinkmann to head to a new life. He seemed happy. I felt regret and now I miss him. 
  Pastor Murphy and Pastor came over to give me communion just in time. Thank heaven!
 Brandy DiNatale and I did battle with my lawyer as Carol fought my temporary onochologist for pain medication. 
  All in all a good day for battles. 

Friday, April 18, 2014

Good Things about Terminal Illness

1.      I never have to go to work again.
2.      I will never set foot on a weight scale.
3.      I can eat anything I want but of course I don’t want anything.
4.      I can be crabby and everyone still loves me.
5.      I can be nice and everyone will cry.
6.      I never have to mow the lawn again.
7.      I will never wear a wig again.
8.      I’m done with doctors, insurance, and hospitals.
9.      My brother is super nice to me. Even though he would like to tackle me and eat a raw onion in my face like the old days.
10.  I get to tell everyone that I love them and why. Best Part.

Monday, April 14, 2014


“I think she knew for a long time.”
“That would be like her.”
“It’s a joke. She is going to say surprise and laugh.”
I didn’t know. I suspected I was really sick. I was leaning towards Crohn’s disease. My tummy was upset and I gained water weight but from feeling ill to actual diagnosis was only three weeks.
When I really knew was after my CAT Scan on Thursday April 10th.  The technicians were their usual cold and efficient selves. After the scan, the two—male and female—rushed to my side to help me. They oozed support and compassion. I knew then what the diagnosis would be cancer—terminal. That was confirmed on Friday by my oncologist. The surprise was the short time given. Neither, Mom or I expected that.
Many people are praying for me. I asked for prayers of comfort and for my family. Must have worked. My pain levels started dropping at 8:00 A.M. Sunday and continued decreasing with each prayer service in my connected churches. I could feel strength rushing through my body. It’s Monday and I feel relatively pain free.

Absolutely wonderful. Thank you.

Saturday, April 12, 2014


Dear Readers:
To my word, this blog is about cancer, widowhood, and faith. Today (Friday), I met with my oncologist—a tiny-framed Asian. He walked in the exam room, hugged me, and said, “I’m so sorry.” This kind of reaction to a CAT Scan does not bode well for the patient. The gentleman was clearly upset. It took him about ten minutes to clearly define that I had inoperable liver cancer with a life expectancy of a few days up to one month.  Mom and I did our best to console him but he remained clearly upset by this outcome.
Since my first visit to my GP on Tuesday, the CAT Scan on Thursday, and today, I have not been surprised by any of this. I felt sick three weeks ago—having problems eating, losing stamina, and gain water weight up to a pound a day. My liver felt knotted. I checked the film on the scan—no knots. I have a liver that is polka-dotted with cancer spots. I will have a biopsy this coming Tuesday to confirm everything for insurance purposes. We are trying Anastrozole to slow down the process and give me a little extra time.
Mom’s birthday is April 30th. She would like me to cut the cake. How can I refuse such a sweet request?
I believe that Paul, my husband, misses me and has asked God to call me home. We were meant to go together but the funeral parlor refused to let me crawl into the cremation vault with my dear man. So 21st Century. I’m now forced down this path to get to heaven. I do believe in heaven.
When you get there, look for me I will be sitting under an oak tree discussing “Letters from Earth” with Mark Twain. I promised my friend Sue I would plant a few flowers to spruce up the place before she arrives.  Cindy B said it would be nice if I hugged Devon her Sainted first born. I am already getting a to-do list before lifting off. Exciting don’t you think?
I ask for prayers for my family and for comfort—to cut down the pain.

I will write as often and as long as I can because that’s what writers do. God bless you everyday.

Tuesday, April 8, 2014


  Today I'm sitting at Cypress Grille, a few feet from my new office looking at the walkway to K Street mall and Old Sacramento. I can see the irony through the dusty window. At age eighteen, I worked for Treasurer Ivy Baker Priest and her boss Governor Ronald Reagan at The State Capitol eight blocks from this spot. 
  I couldn't wait to get out of this town. I wanted to see the world, meet great thinkers, and fall in love. I was convinced that was not possible in Sacra-Tomato. If you ask a Sac citizen why they stay here the answer generally it is that Sacramento is close to everything and a good place to raise a family. But I didn't want to be close to everything. I wanted to be in the middle of everywhere and I wanted to raise Hell.
  My feet itched from birth--always looking for the road less traveled. The one person that could relate was my brother who made his exodus six months after me. For the next several decades, he and I would tromp across the globe--me in one hemisphere and he in the other. I don't think the world could have handled the two of us in the same coordinates. 
  God, all knowing all seeing, has a warped sense of humor. My dad told me the only way to go into the military was to become a nurse. I flat refused. I faint at the sight of needles and hospitals. So I became a military recruiter among other things. My brother suffered a different home life than I and swore he would never marry. He married late in life and became the most amazing husband, father and grandfather. I spent five years as nurse and caretaker of my husband. I watched him die. 
  I sit in my past trying to understand how and why--here? Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe in some way we always return to the beginning step through the end. 

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Comments Pending

I have been running this blog since July 2010. Blogger offered through Google was chosen for price—free—and ease of use. Unfortunately, the comments section never worked correctly. Of my 134 posts, I have received four comments. The “Join this Site” button stopped functioning after the first ten readers joined. When the new Blogger page came out, I thought I had a solution. I built a new blog page. My page look changed, added some AdSense buttons, new comments block, and Google+ circle. 2014 kicked off a clean and orange look. I liked it.
Yet, complaints from my local friends and family were the same. “Can’t leave comments.” “Tried to join but couldn’t.” The good news is that the Google+ circle grew and included people from places like Russia, China, and France—pretty exciting stuff. I did what I could and messed with the buttons on layouts. I also wrote strongly worded complaints to Blogger that were never acknowledged—the downside to free programs.
Today, I read reviews on free and paid blog sites. was recommended at $16 per month, at $18 per year, and of course and still lead in the free category. A little time and a bit of creativity could make a new site possible. BUT…will my Google+ followers find me? I have enough time to write the blog twice a week (the goal being daily). Do I have time to spend remarketing everything? Yes. Yes. This is a business question not a creative one.

Maybe it is time for to grow up and find a permanent home. I would ask for your comments but the button is broken… and the circle is complete. Sigh.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014




 Thank you to the new readers of my post in France, China and England! I appreciate your interest as I do my American friends.