Must Cancer Patients Be Positive?

When we come into this world we act out as freely as we want to. As time goes by, we get messages from others that to freely express ourselves is not okay. Whoever said one must be a "good" (insert name of disease here), patient? What the hell is that anyways? If we are "good" does that mean we get to stay on this planet longer?

I know that there is a LOT of rhetoric about "keeping a positive attitude" and not "being negative" will help one to have good health and survival. Oh and don't forget organic vegan lifestyle. If you didn't eat it before how is it going to take over and heal you? Maybe you like that style of food. But, wouldn't a hot fudge sundae be nice?

If it's true that not thinking positive, having a negative attitude, not eating certain foods, then I would have been gone a long time ago, because I was a very "bad" cancer patient.

My inner child was pissed off. I went against the rules every chance I got, kicking and screaming and swearing at nurses (well, some of them deserved it) and telling people out loud that I had the forbidden "C" word and I was going to die.

Whoa! But those doctors were wrong. Maybe I was close to dying (had two Near Death Experiences), but no one can predict your future, really. Not even a doctor.

I was obsessed and talked about the "D" word to whoever I could get to listen. Most would get out of it, but some were cornered and I probably scared them to death. That was a time when the C word or D word was not discussed.

I wrote out my will, I don't know how many times. Well, that is, every time I had a recurrence. I really didn't have much to leave, some books, some artwork, some poems, some favorite things. I wrote it out with pencil and paper from a 3 ring notebook; one time leaving my art to my sis, next time to my brother. There was something cathartic in it for me.

Realizing I didn't want a "funeral", just a "wake", a party maybe, where people would play all my favorite music, (wrote that in the will, too) and I went around making people feel uncomfortable when I told them, "Don't buy flowers for me after I am dead, Give them to me now, so I can appreciate them." What a bad girl I was. I can laugh at it now, but I was pretty indignant back then. Why put hundreds, maybe thousands of flowers on a casket that is put into the ground the day they are arranged? It seemed so selfish to me. Love me now, not when I'm dead!

So, when we come into this world and we are cute little babies, we can get pissed off and scream our heads off and let everybody know just how unhappy we are. And we get away with it. We know what we want and when we want it, like, I want that milk, NOW! and yummy that is really good!! and then we are happy for a while, and then later we are miserable again, or sleepy, or giggly, or sad.... yet free to express whatever we feel. And people love you and care for you and for your feelings.

All I am saying is, I hope you will give yourself the right to feel however you want to feel and don't let anyone else pass judgment on you, and most of all, don't pass judgment on yourself for not being a "good" patient. Be whoever you are!

If it is true that your time on this planet is coming to a close, then why not do what you want? Well, maybe, not use that bludgeon you were thinking of. But, maybe take a stick and beat up the sofa. Listen to the music you want, eat popsicles and pizza or cereal for dinner and pudding for breakfast, wear all mismatched clothes or draw tattoos on your arm or get out your old Barbies and dress Ken in Drag or your old Legos and build castles. And, yes, protect yourself from those who are still stuck in their old ways, if you need to. You have no obligation to keep them in your life. It's your life after all, whatever is left of it, even if it goes long term. Clear out all the things that do not matter to you. It's very freeing to let go.

Take care of that little baby you once were who expressed yourself so freely. And in the meantime grab up all the love you can get for that which is inside you feeling empty and let it fill your heart until it is overflowing. You will be very surprised as the overflow floods those around you, and whether or not you get healed of the disease which might kill you, your heart will be healed with the fullness of love as it grows like a jungle garden. Your love and others intertwined in the leaves healing each other.

Chopstick Gardening

I visited the captivating garden of Robert Stoll in Santa Cruz. Originally from Brooklyn he came to California in 1951. Robert and his wife, Therese, have worked together transforming their all but barren plot, into a pleasurable piece of paradise. Now retired, they are able to benefit from their labors by purely enjoying their garden which is adorned with stained glass and picassiette art created by the talented, Therese.

The only living thing on the property when they first moved in was a Satsuma Plum tree (Prunus Salicina Satsuma) thought to have been there since 1939. Robert has always been fascinated with Japanese culture, and this ancient tree seems the perfect backdrop for his Bonsai. Upon entering his garden, one is amazed by the enormous arbor of Kiwi vine (Actinidia Chinensis) growing on  an overhead trellis extending around a corner about twenty feet or more.

Robert has decks and an elevated wooden boardwalk upon which one may wander this lush garden. Everywhere you look is another focus of interest. Within what used to be a Koi Pond, Robert has created an Island of striking Mexican Weeping Bamboo (Acuminata Aztecorum) as the centerpiece. Several other unique species of Bamboo (Phyllostachys aureosulcata, Phyllostachys nigra) are showcased in large ceramic pots. A lovely Hachiya Persimmon tree (Diospyros kaki Hachiya) and Espaliered Apple trees round out the plantings.

“Life began in a garden. Robert says. “What better way to spend my days, but working in one?”

Beyond Robert’s work shed (a charming replica of a Japanese Tea House) is a small forest. Literally.

Robert says, “Bonsai is an Art. It is the ancient art of training small plants to look like miniatures of very old plants.” He doesn’t think they need a lot of care compared to other types of gardening. Though he admits they need frequent watering because the small pots can dry out fast. Though they can sometimes be brought inside for a few days, he says 99% need to live outside, unless they are a subtropical Ficus Benjamini or Schefflera. Robert uses no automatic watering techniques, He says he is very old fashioned. He enjoys walking through and hand watering, as it helps to see each plant individually and helps to assess its needs.

“To maintain, simply do the work as it needs to be done. It’s not so much”, Robert says. Some people think that Bonsai are small because they are not well-fed and have stunted growth, which is not a true understanding of Bonsai. Robert fertilizes regularly every 2 weeks with fish emulsion one time and miracle grow, next time.

Among the many trees that Robert has nurtured, the smallest are less than 8 inches and the largest are about 3 feet. The oldest are twin Junipers (Juniperus Californica) rescued from the property of an old Victorian house demolished on River Street some years ago. As with many Bonsai, they were reduced in size over time.  In order to do this, they were lifted out of ground, roots and branches cut, and planted in a large wooden box. This process continued until they were small enough to put in their present Bonsai pots. Robert  also has a Santa Cruz Mountain Oak Bonsai (Quercus Parvula var. Shrevei)  which has remained healthy and has not affected by Sudden Oak Death.

Robert has an interesting assortment of tools used for trimming, shaping, sanding, carving and caring for his trees. Nippers, and cutters and pliers and special benders and anodized copper wire of all sorts are at hand. But among his collection of tools Robert has found most useful, his chopsticks.

As a member of the Santa Cruz Bonsai club, Robert trades off  with other members to tend the garden when he is out of town. They meet monthly at the Live Oak Grange Hall. Because it is a training club, experts are brought in to teach and demonstrate techniques.

Robert is recognized for his accumulated knowledge. He has spent over 40 years, developing his abilities and learning Bonsai techniques.  He is a member of two bonsai clubs; the Santa Cruz Bonsai Kai and the Midori Bonsai Club in San Jose. He is past president of the Santa Cruz Club and presently the Editor of the Santa Cruz Club's Newsletter.

Note: The Bonsai trees depicted with this article were on display at the Watsonville Bonsai Club Bonsai show from May of 2004 and are not those of Robert Stoll.

Living for Now

A friend of mine and her husband were talking about retirement. As a young woman she had cancer and learned to not delay living life to the fullest in the hopes of enjoying it after retirement. Because of that she decided that if she had to choose a time in life to be broke, she'd choose retirement. Probably because of her cancer history she wonders if she would even get there. Some people put away a ton of money and live cheap now in order to save for retirement. Perhaps that makes the most sense, to give yourself a "cushion" for those waning years. But, I agree with my friend. Life is for enjoying now, as much as you can. I'm not saying don't save, don't plan for the future. Just don't put all your eggs in one basket, so to speak

Due to cancer in my twenties and thirties, I was forced to live on disability income only, long before retirement age. When the savings are gone and there's not a spouse or family member to give support, the choices become easy. Don't go shopping. Stop wishing for "things". Find the real value and joy in life. Try not to let being "poor" get in your way. Learn how to navigate the social services system in order to get food, a roof over your head and transportation. Accept that soon people who might have been friendly to you in the past will not be the people who would not want to be in your life now. 

Note: Even if you've had a healthy life, and healthy finances, there is no guarantee those funds will support you in your declining years (unless perhaps you are a millionaire). One heart attack, stroke, prostate or breast cancer can quite quickly diminish your funds. Even if you have the type of cancer that is "curable" or can be managed, you can lose your home before you are cured. Even if you have good medical insurance, they balk at paying $8,000 a month (or co-pay) for the rest of your life if you have Leukemia... for example. Living in the style to which one has become accustomed is not the American Dream. 

Speaking from experience watching my own parents and the parents of my life partner these last decades proves it's the American Nightmare. I don't think the elderly are bent over and have sagging jowls because they are old. I think it's because their self esteem has been stripped away and their new found poverty shames them. 

Sorry....  I didn't mean to sound so negative, but that is the way I perceive it. Planning for a more secure future would take great sacrifice and a will of steel, yet without covering every possible contingency. all that putting the enjoyment of life aside would be for nothing. Enjoy life now while you can. That's my philosophy.

Herbal Sleep Remedies

I've been looking for a natural way to get better sleep. Prescription sleeping pills make me quite ill. So, researching the ingredients of a popular over the counter remedy has revealed the following. I'd rather not spend a small fortune on a few weeks worth of manufactured pills. But, I figure I can try out some of the ingredients by making a simple tea before bed time.

Melatonin -A naturally occurring compound that is secreted in the brain. It's available in pill and liquid form. I prefer the liquid drops. The pills upset my stomach. I don't think this would be a good tea. I love melatonin. It puts me to sleep quite easily. Unfortunately, it doesn't always KEEP me asleep. So I would have to combine something else.

L-Theanine -Commonly found in green tea. I found a reference that said theanine has been shown to help reduce stress levels as well as produce a calm and soothing effect. That's interesting because most think tea has caffiene and therefore would have the opposite affect. I love my green tea, and always feel soothed by drinking it. Perhaps there is soemthing to this Theanine stuff.

Valerian Root Extract -Valerian root has long been used to treat insomnia.  You can find valerian root in many different forms, including sprays, elixirs, drops and tea.  It is my understanding that the molecular components have been refined by chemists to create the drug, Valium. Don't know how true that is, but thought I would mention it.

Hops -Hops are actually the primary stabilizing agent in beer, but have also been shown to have the same effects as Valerian root.

Passion flower - The components in passionflower have calming, sleep inducing, and muscle spasm relieving effects. In one reference I found, it is compared to Lorazepam. It looks like I could get this in a liquid extract, which would be nice, because I could titer my dosage instead of guessing with a tea. Perhaps I could just grow my own on the backyard fence. It is a very pretty vine!

Lemon balm contains components that seem to have a sedative, calming effect. High doses of purified lemon balm extracts were found to be effective in the amelioration of laboratory-induced stress in human subjects, producing "significantly increased self-ratings of calmness and reduced self-ratings of alertness."

Chamomile Flower - There is Level B evidence to support the claim that chamomile possesses anxiolytic (anti-anxiety) properties and may have clinical applications in the treatment of stress and insomnia.

Catnip - Though not known for producing sleep, is considered a relaxing herb as well as useful for calming the stomach. Though it gives excitement to cats, it does not have that effect for humans

Lobelia - In the photo above that I took in my garden, I do not particularly like it. Even though it has some sedative properties, it takes a larger dose to produce that effect. Since, in larger quantities is is known to be toxic, I do NOT recommend it for assistance to sleep.

2016: the Good, the Bad, the Ugly and the Beautiful

In January 2016 I found loving homes for two of the darling little girl kittens I had fostered, and one, I selfishly kept as my own. His name is Pinky. He has grown into a magnificent hulk of a cat.

Since 2016 was an El Nino year, there were many warnings from local weather forecasters that flooding would occur. Since I live near the levee of the Pajaro River, I learned how to be prepared. My car was packed and ready. My biggest concern was how could I get six cats into my car and drive away in enough time after being given the instructions to leave the area. As it turned out, even though there was a little flooding in the county, nothing terrible serious happened.

In March, Kats took me on a vacation to Sacramento. We rode the train to get there and spent the nights in a paddle wheel boat docked in the Sacramento River. We spent a day in Old Town, and another, enjoying the Railroad History Museum. Since three generations of my Grandpas were railroad men, I've got it in my blood. It was a thrilling vacation.

April brought the public to view my catio in the first annual catio tour for Santa Cruz County. Kats worked on it a bit more to make sure the folding winter protection doors worked well. And we cleaned up the back yard (YAY!) and planted a garden.

In June I was enthusiastic about taking free Spanish classes at my local library. I immersed myself for about a month, but then had a serious medical problem arise which kept me from attending. I'd been having cortisone injections in my spine and sacroiliac joint for years. But, this last year even after having the medically legal limit, I was still in pain and having trouble walking well. So I agreed to have something called Radio Frequency Ablation to the S.I. joint. It was a big mistake and I ended up in excruciating pain that lasted for the rest of the year until I had surgery in December. Three titanium rods were placed in my iliac bone and pushed through into my sacrum in order to hold the two bones together. I am still recovering from that procedure right now.

July 22nd, as I was driving home, I looked across the Monterey Bay and saw a familiar large mushroom cloud of brown smoke. I knew immediately it was the start of a very big forest fire, down my Big Sur about 45 miles south. This fire continued to burn until the end of October before fire crews could finally quell it. Well over 130 square miles of national forest destroyed. It breaks my heart. Not only were trees and other plant life destroyed, but so many wild animals are gone too. Deer, bobcats, mountain lions, and bears, not to mention the smaller critter, raccoons, possums, etc. The fire was started by humans who were camping illegally.

Warning: this part is sad cat news. I cannot remember now what month it occurred. I have a mental block. My precious black cat with the incredible yellow eyes, Ninja-Boo, sneaked out behind me at night when I went out of the catio door to pick some catnip. I thought all the cats were inside of the house and I had not noticed him still in the catio.

As soon as I realized he was out, I tried to catch him, but he seemed to want me to play chase and catch with him. I was up until 3 or 4 in the morning following him through the neighborhood. I finally dragged myself home exhausted. I could only hope that Ninja-Boo would find his way home. Kats was not with me that night otherwise I know he would have kept going.


The next day, Kats and I put up signs, and advertised, then searched the neighborhood for three days when a woman called to tell me she had seen a dead black cat on a nearby street corner. When I got there, it was gone. The local shelter had picked him up. I went there and saw him. He did not appear to have any serious injuries. It must have been quick. I hope. I said my goodbyes and went back to the car in tears. Good thing that Kats was driving. I would not have been able to. I still miss that clever, mischievous fellow. Picture is of Ninja and Timmy "kissing".

I'm proud to say that I was requested by San Francisco musician, Amy Obenski, to do some art for her new album, An Emptiness to Fill. Additionally, several of my drawings were selected for a coloring book she published. I also took up a new art hobby of painting cats on rocks, which I continue to enjoy creating. I have even sold a few to friends.

In September, I survived my fifth year of living with Leukemia thanks to a relatively new chemo drug that keeps it controlled.

In October, my son flew me to Austin, Texas to attend my grand-niece's engagement party. It was wonderful to see her and her friends having such a good time, and to know that she has found her true love. Her mother, a tattoo artist, extraordinaire, was able to cover an old spider web tattoo I had gotten 30 years ago which looked ready to be retired. She covered it with a beautiful rose. Dare I call it a moon rose?

In 2017 I am looking forward to more of the good, bad, ugly and beautiful and.......

I just want to celebrate another day of living!
I just want to celebrate, another day of life.

Deane Family Origins

I've been going through some old photo albums and sorting last night. Oh my! I've never seen that picture of my family. It had me giggling. That's the worst pic I have ever seen of us! But, so true to life! My Dad, the proud dad. My mom looking over us, and us kids all aimed in our own directions. Solidarity was not a commonality for us and this pic says it all. 

This is doubly funny because I just wrote a piece on how united we are as a family! Maybe the table we were seated upon is representative of our joined strengths. It was hand-made cherry wood by Morris Evans, father of Mary Jessie Evans, our grandmother on my father's side.. 

This is what I wrote: 

My family is descended from those who were on that first ship who came to this land for freedom's sake. The next generations shed their blood during the Revolutionary war, the war of 1812, the civil war, WWI, WWII, Korean War, Vietnam, Desert Storm. Today part of my family is descended from those who arrived here on slave ships and gained their freedom only recently.  

The blood of my family is soaked into the soil. First, with those early arrivals on the Mayflower, the other Pilgrims to follow, the Revolutionaries, then those who arrived unwillingly and whose blood was shed in cruelty. As the generations have mingled, the blood of the first people who lived here for millennia, and the blood of legal and illegal "aliens" is part of the DNA of my descendants. And right now, the blood of one of my grandchildren is on the line in readiness to protect freedom and liberty in the army. We have all fought for our right to exist in the USA. 

To me, the word United has a very deep, all encompassing meaning. When we are all partying and watching fireworks during independence day, I hope we can all remember what those "bombs bursting" in air were all about.

Barbara and Denise Fairchild

When I was a little girl, living on Cayuga Island in Niagara Falls, New York during the late 1940s and early 1950s I had a best friend. Her name was Denise Fairchild. I think she was maybe a year younger than me. Basically, we played with dollies. Denise had a little sister who was younger, named Barbara. I don't remember playing with her though she may have been nearby. It seemed at the time, she was too young to participate. When my family moved off the island about 1951, I missed my friend and didn't understand why I couldn't visit her. I never knew the youngest baby sister. I believe this picture was taken after we moved. Though my parents kept in touch with the Fairchild's for a while, I never saw the Denise and Barbara again. I always thought they were very pretty, and wished I had curls in my hair, too.  I found this photo among my mother's belongings after she passed away in 2006. Imagine keeping it all these years, with no further contact.

Chronic Pain - Friend or Foe?

Grandpa was an amputee. He lost his leg while working on the railroad as a young man. When "coupling" two railroad cars together, he fell and his leg was crushed between the couplers. He was hauled into the railroad station. A doctor sawed off his leg right there and then (according to what my dad said) after giving him copious amounts of alcohol.

I never knew my grandpa until I was a young adult. I went to live with him and other family members 3,000 miles from home as a young air force wife. I was pregnant at the time, and afraid of the pain of childbirth. I knew grandpa still had pain from his amputation, even in his 80s. I asked him how he could tolerate it so I might have an idea of how to prepare myself for labor. He told me he "made friends with" his pain. He said, he learned to accept his pain better when he decided to stop hating it. I thought that to be very odd. I knew amputees had something called phantom pain that could be quite intense. I admired him for his strength and fortitude.

A couple years after grandpa died I was facing major surgery for bone cancer. (Chondrosarcoma) The doctor told me he would have to amputate half my pelvis, plus my leg. This is called a hemipelvectomy. Quickly, I decided I wasn't going to let this amputation destroy me. I told myself, "If grandpa could do it, so can I!!!" Otherwise I would have been devastated.


As it turned out, I only had a portion of my pelvis amputated (internal hemipelvectomy). I didn't lose my leg after all. Nevertheless, I still have pain now almost fifty years since diagnosis. Like grandpa, I've made friends with my pain. I pay attention to the need to rest. I respect the messages I have gotten over the years that there are certain things my body cannot do, no matter how hard I push. I accept those limitations regardless of what others think. After all, I appear to have a normal body to them. I pay attention to the degree of pain I experience and when I need to medicate myself to help it be relieved, I take something for the pain. Though I prefer to not take opiates.

The pain never goes away entirely. It's always there to some degree. My friend. My shadow. My pain. Lately the pain has been intensified these last few months. It wakes me up in the middle of the night. It suddenly cripples me in the midst of walking. I can barely tolerate it. I calm myself, take a breath, unclench my teeth and I remind myself that hating it will do me no good.

Right now, I have to hang on two more weeks. I have an appointment for an epidural infusion into my spine so that my pain will (hopefully) go away. I have had this procedure many times before over the years. I have always had relief. It helps me stay off the opiates. But now, the epidurals are almost an annual occurrence. You can only have so many epidurals within a certain period of time. Waiting out the time for the treatment has been very distracting. But soon, my friend and I will part ways. I wont miss her at all. Thank you grandpa for teaching me to deal with pain in your unique way.

America, the Ugly - Independence Day Rant

Someone I know posted something on Facebook that I found offensive. I was so angry, I posted a very careless sarcastic comment. The statement she posted was:

"We have illegal immigrants who are staying here on a military facility while homeless veterans are outside the gate with no shelter and no food."

My sarcastic comment was: "Yeah just kill those kids and be done with it!"

I steamed and fretted about it for an hour or so. Then, also thought better of my comment, for the sake of the relationship between me and the person who posted, as well as the fact that someone might actually take me literally and agree! Heaven forbid.

So, I went back to the posting. No one else had responded yet. And I then posted the following.

"I'm sorry. That was rude of me. I just get so sick and tired of the hypocrisy of statements like that. Yes, we need to care for our homeless, veterans or otherwise. I go to my local homeless shelter regularly to donate clothing. I hand out money on the street corner. Not much, but a dollar is a dollar.

These children seeking refuge from us are starving, sick and courageous for traveling all that way to seek asylum in our country that has a statue of liberty with a statement on it. “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”

Either we are proud Americans willing to stand up for the human rights that we supposedly believe everyone should have or we are hypocrites and believe it is only for US citizens.

Note: I got a little personal here and have changed the name of the person I was addressing.)
How quickly we forget our own history. Griselda, what's the history of your mother's people? How did they get here to the land of the free? Do you know?

I know my own family history going back for generations. We came here for the same reasons those kids are coming here. Did you hear about the one they found dead yesterday?

Do you have friends who were refugees from another country? I do. In fact, the father of my grandchildren came as a child refugee from San Salvador. I have friends who came from Russia as children. They are now grown up and committed American Citizens. I have a young friend who escaped from rape and torture as a child. She now takes care of a little old lady and bicycles 20 miles round trip daily to attend college classes to make a difference in our lives. A dear friend who came to our country served in the military and sacrificed his life during the Viet Nam era. My own son's grandparents came into the U.S. and never applied for citizenship. Does this make all those people unacceptable members of society. I would be very surprised to know others would think that.

I cannot believe how cruel, insensitive and un-christian people are towards these "Illegals". I'm ashamed of our countrymen."

Note: This is the end of my rant. Sometimes I am so ashamed to call myself an American. 

At Last Performed by Rain Ward (cover)

Please enjoy lovely niece, singing "At Last".



16 year old Rain Ward of Austin, Texas performed At Last in a contest and won second prize.

"At Last" is a 1941 song written by Mack Gordon and Harry Warren for the musical film "Orchestra Wives". It was performed in the film and on a record by Glenn Miller according to Wikipedia. It looks like there is some discrepancy about what other movies it was in and who performed them when I look at Youtube. Miller seems to have made several recordings.

Personally, I find the most moving rendition by the incomparable Etta James in 1961 Recently, it was recorded also by Celine Dion and Beyonce, both of whom, in my opinion, I think do not do the song justice the way my niece does.

Revealing Genetics

Not only has 23andMe, DNA research organization, shed some light on my personal medical issues, it has provided me with fascinating ancestral heritage. At one time in my life I spent eight years doing genealogy research. That was before the internet made it so easy.



I thought I had a very thorough understanding of my background. I had researched and diligently proven all I thought I needed to know all the way back to my ancestor, Charlemagne. 




True, my genetic makeup is mostly northern European as 23andMe revealed. But, Oh! What a surprise it was to learn that I do have that smidgen of Native American that everyone thinks they have but don't. 


And oddly enough, I found out I've got an Ashkenazi ancestor or two. 


I'm going to have to expand my genealogical research. 

I doubt, however, that I will ever find my Neanderthal ancestors, though. Seriously, I've got Neanderthal! 


 I love this stuff. Who am I? Who are you? Are we kin? You betcha!

Cancelling Bears Brown Bag Deliveries

I just cancelled my Santa Cruz Gray Bears brown bag deliveries. Every week I have been receiving it free. The idea is very nice. But, for the little I am able to eat, it is not worth it. I usually have to find someone to take the food off my hands. Not an easy task when I have a limited number of (also elder) friends and am not well quite a bit.

A friend has chickens, and when no one wants the food, I call her and she comes to get it. Chickens don't eat broccoli, so that goes to waste. Continuing to receive the bag of food weekly, it really isn't fair to those who run the program and the volunteers, even though they don't know of my dissatisfaction. Their ideals and commitment to their good deeds deserve to be effective. But, the amount of time I spend calling around to friends to find someone who wants some item of food, is not worth my time and energy, which could be put to better use. And, I can barely eat what I am given. Usually it is the following:

3 potatoes
3 onions
2 bags of salad greens
Brussels sprouts
3 carrots
3 apples
1 can of green beans
occasionally white rice or dried beans in a small plastic baggie
Bread of some sort

Am I being ungrateful? My mother, (RIP) would be quite upset that I don't appreciate what I am given. She would want me to "Eat it all gone! People in India are starving to death!". It has nothing to do with a lack of gratitude. I remember that back in the 1970s it made the news that elders were eating canned cat food because they couldn't afford to buy human tuna. And their lack of balanced nutritional intake contributed to their demise. I'm sure that before this became news it was an ongoing issue for elders and those who were poor but not poor enough to qualify for food stamps, which didn't exist as a regular government program until 1964.

I cannot often eat potatoes. I put them in the vegetable drawer where they get wrinkled and start to grow. Onions are totally out of the question. I would be so sick if I ate them. The doctor warned me not to eat Brussels sprouts due to my propensity to produce bladder stones. Same goes for spinach which is often in one of the salad bags. Green beans, believe it or not contribute to upset stomach along with the dried beans. I've come to the conclusion that I can buy apples without bruises and carrots (which I love) without having to find someone to take the other items. When the chicken lady is not available, most all of it becomes garbage. Sadly, I no longer try to keep a compost bin.

So basically, I can use the rice and bread, though the bread is often out of date and in need of a saw to cut through it. Only kidding about that. A good serrated knife will do the job.

Why don't I just use my food stamps to buy the food I am able to eat? Fifteen dollars a month of food stamp allotment is not sufficient to provide me with adequate nutrition to get through more than a week. And believe it or not, though my income is officially "below the poverty level" I do not qualify for more than the fifteen dollars.

You Can Save a Life

I was diagnosed with Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia September of 2011. I do not qualify for a bone marrow transplant. Presently I am taking a chemo type drug called Sprycel. I need take it for the rest of my life or until there is a cure.

Even though I do not qualify for bone marrow transplant, I would like for you to consider signing up to do so. Contrary to any exaggerated stories you might have heard, it is not a nightmare to go through. Watch the video and read below it, too.

When I was a young woman, I had another cancer. It was called chondrosarcoma. I had a large bone tumor in my pelvis. If it had not been for the generous blood donors who were available at the time, I would not be here today.



Being a Bone Marrow Donor is a lot easier than you think. In most cases all they need is your blood. If you are afraid of needles, ask someone you know if they will be a donor.

Sometimes they need to get marrow directly. This does not involve cutting into your bone. It involves sticking a needle into the bone at the top of your hip and sucking out some marrow. That's it.

I had that done during my bone marrow biopsy. I did it without anesthesia. I was completely numbed in my upper hip. I had no pain to speak of. Less than I have had with an IV. I have had more pain from a dental appointment! Though it may not be the same for everyone, I just want you to know this is not a huge sacrifice in order to save someone's life.

If you saw a person dying and you knew you could help them stay alive, would you do what you could to help?

I hope you will think about this. If it were you needing a bone marrow transplant to save your life, or the life of someone you love, your child maybe, wouldn't you want others to be aware of how they can help?

Check it out:

• Why is there a need for people to join the Be The Match Registry? 
•  
• I'm already on the NMDP Registry. Do I need to join the Be The Match Registry, too?
• 
  
• What is a bone marrow transplant?  
• 
  
• How do I become a bone marrow donor? 
• 
  
• Why is there sometimes a cost associated with joining the registry?
• 
  
• How do I use the registration kit to collect a cheek cell sample?  
• 
  
• What is my commitment if I join?  
• 
  
• Why does a person have to be 18 to join? Can't my parent sign the consent for me?
• 
  
• If I'm over 60, why can't I join? 
•  
• If I join the Be The Match Registry, how likely is it that I will donate to someone? 
•  
• Does race or ethnicity affect matching?  
• 
  
• What is the donation process like?  
• 
  
• Can I get tested for a specific patient or family member?
•   

Do You Know Your Neighbors?

You never know what is behind the doors of your neighbor's house unless you have visited them and been inside. Or if you peeked into windows. But, that's creepy!

In my neighborhood, some of the neighbors stay to themselves, and I often wonder who they are and what they are like. You can tell a lot about people by the "stuff" they have. For example: If you came inside my house after the first time I invited you in, you would see that I have a lot of cat stuff. Therefore, one could assume I like cats and they'd be correct.

Recently two of these neighbors have had yard sales for the last couple weeks in preparation for moving. Every weekend new items were set out. I went over to one neighbor's yard sale. They had tables set out in their driveway. Everything was set on the tables in an orderly manner with price tags on them. I could tell they put a lot of effort into setting up. Upon chatting with them, I realized by their behavior, straightening things as soon as something was sold that they were orderly people. Perhaps a little overly concerned about neatness. But, I wouldn't complain. It was easy for me to see the things they had for sale. Books were all near other books. All kitchenware all placed together. I learned very quickly that the woman was a librarian and her husband was a bookkeeper. It sort of makes sense. Doesn't it?

I hadn't ever met the  wife of the other couple. She stayed to herself. Whenever she drove into her driveway, she limped quickly into her doorway looking neither right nor left. It was always clear to me she was a very private person. Her husband, Frank, on the other hand was friendly and outgoing. I had often seen him out and chatting with other neighbors and met him a couple times informally.

I had heard that Peggy and Frank only had a month in which to move from their house. I went over to see what they had for sale in their driveway. I quickly realized that Peggy was a genuine "hoarder" as I looked into the open door of the garage where Frank was pulling items out. Boxes and boxes of unrelated items were crammed to the ceiling. Women's items. Shoes, clothing, hats, etc.

Things were piled onto a tarp in the middle of the driveway. Frank brought out one box at a time and emptied them out onto the tarp while Georgia sorted through deciding what to sell and what not to sell. For the most part, as she kneeled on the tarp, she put items back into the box. Frank came out with another box to empty. Peggy hand back to him the previous box. "Take this back." she said.

"Honey, you know we have to get rid of this stuff!" Frank said.

"I know, but some of this is good stuff, collectibles and such. They are worth something!" She said. I saw him roll his eyes and shrug his shoulders as he took the box from her. "If they are worth something, put a price on them and let's sell them and get this done and over with!"

She was silent as she began pawing through the purses he had just dumped on the tarp. Peggy then looked up at me with tears in her eyes. "These are real good purses. Good high fashion designer brands." She held one up, "This is a Ralph Lauren. That one is a Gucci."

"I can see that." I said as I picked one up. "Louis Vuitton?"

 She nodded and wiped a tear off her cheek as Frank came over with another box. "Don't dump those here." Peggy said. They go over on the dresser there. Those are knick knacks." She started putting purses back into the purse box. Something caught my eye, a purse with cats on it.

"Oh! How much do you want for this?" I asked as I picked it up.

"That's a Laurel Burch. That cost about fifty dollars when new."

"Five dollars!" said Frank, as he came back to us with another box to dump on the tarp.

"No!" Peggy said.

"Ten?" Frank said with a smile his face. I could see that by interacting with us, he was encouraging his wife to actually let go and sell the items she so desperately wanted to keep. She looked at him, frowning, and turned to me,"Twenty."

I really wanted the purse with the cats on it! I was just about to give in when Frank looked lovingly at his wife and said. "Peggy, honey, we can't overprice these things. We've GOT to sell stuff quickly or we are not going to make the deadline to get out of here. You don't want to pay rent on two houses at once. Do you?" He looked at me. "The new place we're moving to is much smaller and doesn't have a garage. There's no place to put all this stuff."

I said, "I understand." I smiled at Peggy, still holding the purse in my hand. "How about fifteen dollars?" She slowly nodded and put her hand out. I gave her the money. She looked crestfallen. I was so sad that this sweet couple were in such a dilemma.

The following week, they had another yard sale, and another. But it was clear to me that Frank and Peggy were not making much headway. After they moved, and were gone a couple weeks, I ran into Frank at the grocery store. He told me they had put the extra stuff into a storage facility. I felt sad for them. After all, it costs money to do that and I doubted they would ever empty the storage.

After seeing how emotionally difficult it was for Peggy to sell her stuff and learning of their decision to put things in storage, I had a realization. It made me face the fact of just how much junk I have sitting around that I don't really NEED!

A local cat rescue group, Project Purr, is going to hold a giant Rummage sale next month. I'm cleaning out my closets, drawers and garage, putting things in boxes. I am donating it all directly to Project Purr. I have already taken three carloads of boxes over to them this last two weeks. And now the car is right half packed with another load.

Thank you Frank and Peggy for opening my eyes to my own tendency to hoard.

My Uncle - A Poem

Dean Evans

Does anybody know
I wonder
will they care?
My cousin
just called me,
her father has cancer

He was my uncle who took me in
when I was pregnant;
my uncle who taught me to sing;
my uncle who taught me;
about cleaning carpets;
the value of having a life insurance policy;
who taught me how
to pick up a bowling ball the right way,
and get how to get a strike

My father's little brother,
my uncle called him all the time
to help him get through Dad's last days;
encouraging him to be positive,
to have faith.

He was once a little boy
who my parents took into their home to live
when he no longer had a mother and his Dad was sick.
When my Dad was in his last days
My uncle tolerated Mom's comments to him.
My uncle, no matter how old,
was still the little brother, to her.

I think I will tell my older brother
and I wonder,
does he even know my uncle?
Doe he remember him from 1955?
Will it matter to him
that the last of that generation
will soon no longer be with us?

I think I will tell my sister;
and I wonder,
how well does she know him?
Perhaps from the family gatherings we attended.

I think of my younger brother and believe
he might know my uncle best of all.
He hired our uncle to work for him at one time.

My cousin asked me
to inform this side of the family.
My uncle is sick.
The prognosis is terminal.
I am surprised at myself how emotional I feel.

Elizabeth Munroz
November 11, 2007