Dear Winter,

I think it's time we parted ways.

I hate to do this to you so close to Valentine's Day, but let's face it, you were planning to leave me around March 21 anyway. Why prolong the agony?

Sure, you look pretty and all, but I just feel like you're always dumping on me.

And you don't do anything to help around here. You leave a mess in the driveway and I'm the one who has to clean it up. Sure, if I left it there long enough, you'd take care of it eventually, but that's just not good enough.

When I think of you, I get a chill...not in a good way. Occasionally you'll surprise me with a brief showing of warmth, only to take it away the next day.

I have had it.

Goodbye, and good luck.

Ruth

A Commercial Break...

Clearly this blog is lacking a clear sense of direction. My last entry was a letter to God. This entry is about a random memory that was in my head this morning when I woke up. I’m not sure why it was there or why I’m sharing, but…

I think most of my former teachers would say I was a good kid. Not perfect, but I got good grades and didn’t cause or get into trouble (much).

Except there was this one time…in 8th grade…

In English class, we’d been given a group assignment to create (on paper) a made up product and write a commercial for it. My team consisted of my best friend, Mary, and another gal, Michelle.

I came up with the product idea. I’m not sure if I’m proud of that fact or not. Our imaginary product was a spray that would remove gunk from stuff. For instance, if you stepped in gum, you could use our product to get it off your shoe. The product name was...

OFF
UCK

Our commercial went something like, “If you step in gum, don’t panic, just say ‘Off Uck.’” And we had a catchy little jingle of some sort.

Anyway, at some point our English teacher got wind of this idea and was not happy about it. She didn’t specifically tell us NOT to do it, but word had it that if we went through with it we would be facing detention. Well, I wasn’t keen on detention, but even more than that I wasn’t keen on bringing two friends down with me. So, we kept the concept but changed the name slightly to “Yuck Off.” Yeah, that’s a lot better.

Dear God

Dear God,

I know You’re probably pretty busy trying to decide who’s going to win the big games tomorrow so I’ll try not to take much of Your time.

Something has been on my mind. You see, again today a status update showed up in my Facebook news feed that suggested if I’m a true Christian, I should change my status update to say as much for at least an hour. I didn’t. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve forgone these opportunities (or some variation of them) to become a true Christian.

I’m concerned I’m going to hell. Actually, that’s not entirely true. I’m more concerned with the during-life right now than the after-life. I don’t mean to seem short-sighted. I just feel like while I’m living, I should focus on living a good life and contributing what I can to make the world better in some small way. I figure You’ve got the after-life thing figured out, and I’ll wait to be surprised when the moment arrives.

Anyway, back to the Facebook issue. I’m a little torn. I mean, I want to be a true Christian, I’m just not sure if I have to post it on Facebook to make it true. I imagine there’s nothing wrong with posting those updates, but is there anything wrong with NOT posting them? So, I went to bible.com and searched on the word “Facebook” to see what the Good Book might have to say on the matter. That search yielded no results, so I tried “social networking,” again with no success. I considered discussing the matter with my pastor, but she isn’t even on Facebook. (Yes, I said, “she.” Hope that doesn’t rock Your world.)

So, without any guidance from the Bible or my pastor, I’m left to ask myself, “What would Jesus do?” I pictured Jesus sitting at His laptop--or maybe He uses an iPhone, hard to say--while one of those messages shows up in His news feed. Would he update His status so that it would show up in the news feeds of His millions of friends? “Jesus Christ is…a true Christian.”

I think not. I’m pretty sure Jesus wouldn’t even be on Facebook. Or writing a blog. So, perhaps that’s my cue to sign off. But, if You’ve got any insights, send me a message. E-mail is best.

Peace out and Amen,

Ruth

P.S. Go Packers!

It's Ornamental

I hate winter, but Christmas brightens it up for me. I always decorate as soon as I can—sometimes after the last bite of pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving. (I am opposed to doing it sooner than that.) Last year at this time I was renting a room from a friend. She doesn’t always put up a tree, but she did last year—I think at least in part for my benefit. I appreciated that she did that. A lot. It was a nice tree. I enjoyed sitting and looking at it. But, it wasn’t my tree. I was trying to figure out why that mattered. Mine wasn’t any nicer than hers—in fact, hers was nicer than mine. Hers wasn’t a whole lot different than mine. So, why did I miss my tree?

I got the answer this year when I started decorating my tree the day after Thanksgiving. I opened my tin of ornaments and it may as well have been a passport for a trip down memory lane. (I’m not sure why I’d need a passport for that particular trip, but that’s what popped in my head, so I’m going to roll with it.)

As I pulled each ornament out, I remembered its significance. In some cases the only significance was that I got it on clearance for a good price. But, in some cases, it was special because of who gave it to me.

I had two ornaments from Becky. Both have my name written in gold; one is dated 1986 and another 1987. Becky was my Sunday school teacher at the time and gave each of us in the class an ornament each year. One is circular and has a nativity scene, the other is bell-shaped and depicts an angel praying. Both are special to me and remind me not just of Becky but of Olivet Christian Church.

I have two ornaments that remind me of my friend Mary. One she gave me and it reads “Our friendship is a special treasure…Christmas 1992.” We had become friends in 1982 (seventh grade). In 1992 10 years seemed like a long friendship. I’m happy to say that in 2010, it’s a longer friendship by 18 years. The other ornament that reminds me of her is one that I bought for her in 1995….and never gave to her. It remained wrapped for a couple of years. We’d see each other periodically, but I never remembered to bring the ornament with me. Besides, giving it in July would have been weird. Finally, I unwrapped it and started hanging it on my tree. Every year when I place it, I smile and say to myself, “Merry Christmas, Mary!”

The tree shaped ornament I got from Barbie stands out because of its size and non-traditional colors—pink, purple and teal. She picked it because those are her favorite colors. The ornaments on my tree are predominantly red, not by plan. You might think I’d be inclined to hang hers toward the back so it didn’t clash. I don’t. Barbie is not a back branch kind of person. So, every year it stands out in much the same way she stands out in a crowd. And it makes me smile.

As I pull out the silver ornament from Mom I am reminded of a kind gesture. I had come home from college and I stopped by to see Mom at the post office when I got to town. She mentioned she had sent the package off. “What package?” I wondered aloud. “Oh, I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that,” she replied. It turns out that someone at the dorm had tried to coordinate a surprise where each of our parents would send an inexpensive gift and the RA was going to present the gifts at our dorm holiday party. So, surprise ruined for me, no big deal.

I then mentioned that I imagined my roommate’s dad (her only living parent) wouldn’t send her anything as they had been on the outs. Sure enough, the day of the big surprise came. Almost everyone was surprised and were excited to open their gifts. Mom sent me this silver ornament, but as I suspected, Shari’s dad hadn’t sent anything. What I hadn’t expected was that my mother sent her something. It was an ornament just like mine. It arrived via FedEx so that it would get there in time. There is no doubt in my mind that Shari would rather have gotten something from her dad. But, I suspect she appreciated not being the only one without anything to open. As I hang mine on the tree, I wonder if she still has hers. I imagine she doesn’t. I wonder how she’s doing.

There are ornaments from other friends—a baseball ornament from Dave; a mouse with a candy cane from Lavon; a hand-painted mouse ornament from Jordan when she was a wee one; Santa Claus ornaments from Kathy and Kathi; a skier from Joan; manger scene and angels from Matt and a fan from Ilena. Some date back around twenty years, some just a few years. Each reminds me of these people and what they mean to me.

Then, there are a few ornaments that remind me of places I’ve been and the people with whom I went. I have a baseball ornament from Cooperstown which reminds me of my road trip with Jamey in 1999. I have a set of three ornaments from Greece which conjure memories of my trip there with Kathy to visit her son, Jameson over Thanksgiving 2006. There is nothing Grecian about them other than the fact they were purchased there. For all I know they were made in China. (Three out of the four of them survived the plane ride home…that’s why it’s a set of three. )

And, it’s not just the ornaments. I have a Christmas centerpiece from Barbie, a fabric wreath from Mary, candles from Wade, a mop angel from Michelle, a snow globe from Joan, a snowman from Kathy, snowmen and candles from Dave, and…the list goes on. Some of these friends have moved away, some I’ve lost touch with, some I remain close with, all have been an important part of my life.

So, yes, my friend’s tree last year was beautiful and it helped brighten my winter, but it couldn’t quite substitute for my tree because there are no substitutes for my friends and what they mean to me.

Thankfulness, Givingness

Many of us will have the day off from work.
Many of us will be surrounded by family and friends.
Many of us will share an abundance of food.
Many of us will gather in the comfort and warmth of our homes.
Many of us will lift up our thankfulness for all that is good in our lives.

Some of us will not.
Some of us must work, perhaps a second job.
Some of us are without a job.
Some of us will be alone.
Some of us will spend the holiday without a departed loved one for the first time.
Some of us are unjustly incarcerated.
Some of us won’t have enough or anything to eat.
Some of us will look for shelter in the outdoors with only a blanket for warmth.
Some of us will lift up thankfulness for a simple gift that many of us take for granted—a blanket, a scrap of food.

This Thanksgiving, as we lift up our thankfulness, we might also ask that our hearts be filled with givingness.
A givingness that smiles and provides rest for the weary.
A givingness that offers company to the lonely.
A givingness that provides a shoulder to catch the tears of the grieving.
A givingness that seeks justice for the injustices.
A givingness that feeds the bellies and nourishes the souls of the hungry.
A givingness that provides shelter for those who have none.
A givingness that offers warmth and security to the cold and frightened.

A givingness that produces more thankfulness that produces more givingness.

Cancer Sucks!

Those of you who have known me since 2008 or before are aware of my past participation in the Breast Cancer 3-Day with my friend, Kathy--in Kansas City in 2006, Seattle in 2007 and the Twin Cities in 2008. (I probably asked you for money.) During that time, we produced a periodic newsletter to share our training and fundraising progress as well as information about breast cancer.

In most issues we had a feature called "Profile in Courage" which was about someone who was fighting breast cancer, or who had survived it or who had lost their life to this $%$#ing disease. These articles were often contributed by people we know about someone they loved. In at least three cases, the person who was featured was fighting the disease and has since lost the battle. I'm sad to say, tonight I learned of a fourth.

Karen passed away on Friday. I didn't know her well. In fact, I didn't know her at all until we featured her in our newsletter in May of 2006. Her daughter and niece submitted the article. She was a co-worker of Kathy's. She was one of our biggest supporters. She volunteered with us at Starlight to help us raise money. She was at our vendor party last fall to support Kathy and Kathi in the Phoenix walk (I retired). She read every newsletter and, I found out last year, shared them with her daughter and family.
She was a strong woman, a loving mother, and a doting grandmother. Below is her Profile in Courage.

Profile in Courage—Karen McCommas
(Contributed by her daughter, Amanda Dey and her niece, Shelly Ballesteros)

Breast cancer awareness has always been part of our family - our maternal grandmother had a bilateral radical mastectomy long before either one of us can remember. Her victory over breast cancer provided proof to her daughters (and granddaughters) that being diagnosed with breast cancer was not a death sentence. For the females of the family that meant monthly breast self-exams and regular mammograms.

My mother (and aunt), Karen McCommas, was no exception. She performed her self-exams and had regular mammograms until we moved from Texas to Kansas in November 2005. I had given birth just before the move and as always, my mother was there to help. Instead of finding a job immediately she took care of my newborn for six months. She then began her job search— after temp jobs, leaving a permanent job, and then waiting for insurance to kick in at her current employment, it had been around two years since her last mammogram.

In August 2006 she discovered a lump on the side of her left breast. The biopsy results came back positive for breast cancer. By September 2006 she had a left mastectomy with a second surgery to retrieve lymph nodes that were missed during the original surgery. The lymph nodes showed almost complete replacement of normal cells with cancer cells so the treatment plan was an aggressive one.

Every two weeks she received chemotherapy and then would give herself injections every day for 10 days following treatment. She scheduled her treatments for Fridays so she could rest over the weekend and return to work on Monday. Even after sleepless nights and all the side effects of the chemo she still went to work every day. She is still going through Radiation treatment which should be finished by May.

Throughout it all, Karen has maintained that positive and bubbly attitude we know and love her for. She has never complained, never let being diagnosed or going through the various treatments get her down or prevent her from living her life. Karen is an amazing woman, full of courage and an enormous amount of strength.

Having breast cancer has never prevented Karen from the joys of being a wonderful Nana to my very active 2 ½ year old. She has been the epitome of strength – reminding us all that no matter what life gives you, you can overcome any obstacle.

The Waiting Game

I'm not good at waiting. Whether it be waiting for the pizza delivery person to arrive or waiting for water to boil, I'm just not patient. But, I'm especially not good at waiting for medical tests.

On September 17 I had my annual screening mammogram. On September 20 I got a call from the breast center letting me know they saw a "density" on my right breast. They explained it's probably nothing and could be anything, but they wanted me to come in for a diagnostic mammogram and an ultrasound. I scheduled the next available appointment, which was September 30.

I woke up on September 21 and realized there was no way someone as anti-waiting as I am was going to make it until September 30 without driving myself bonkers. I understood it was almost certainly nothing, but sometimes you want more than "almost." Especially if you've watched your sister go through breast cancer treatments. So, at 8:00 am I called the breast center to see if there was any chance I could get an earlier appointment. They told me to come in at 9:00 that day. Peachy!

I was glad to hear them say that I would have some sort of an answer right then. Yay! No waiting! I had the diagnostic mammogram first. In case you're wondering, the experience is pretty much like a screening mammogram except they compress it more and they focus on a specific area. When they looked at the pictures, the density wasn't as clearly defined, but the doctor advised that I go ahead and get the ultrasound just to be sure.

On the way to the ultrasound, the gal who escorted me asked if I had been called back before. I hadn't. After all my previous mammograms I had gotten a letter in the mail saying that everything was A-OK, come back in a year. I was a little annoyed that they went off script this year by calling me. She said, "you're probably freaking out, then." I said I wasn't (much) and that I kept reminding myself that it was probably nothing. She told me to keep reminding myself that, because it usually is nothing.

On the ultrasound they spotted a small nodule. I saw it on the screen, but I didn't ask the technician any questions about it. She escorted me in silence back to the breast center. I tend to crack jokes when I'm nervous (or any time I get a chance, really) so when we walked past an exam room that had a treadmill in it, I said, "At least none of my tests today involved a treadmill." She laughed.

Back at the breast center, the radiologist confirmed the presence of a "suspicious abnormality." A biopsy was recommended and my doctor's office would be calling me about that. She asked if I had questions. I was sure I should have about a dozen, but I asked none. She said if I came up with any, I could ask the nurse when she called or I could call them. She handed me a pamphlet about breast biopsies and I headed out the door. The gal who escorted me to the ultrasound spotted me in the hall and asked, "well, did it go alright?" I didn't know how to answer. I smiled, "yes, it went fine, thanks."

Yes, it went fine. At this point, I still realized it was probably nothing. 80% of all breast biopsies are benign. Yay! But, please God, make me one of the 80%, thanks!

I had to wait a whole day to get the official order from my doctor to schedule the biopsy. Of course, I wanted to schedule it for the next moment possible, and they were happy to oblige...except the next moment possible was October 4. Twelve long days away. Seriously? OK. This non-waiter was going to have to learn some patience. Like now!

I spent the next few days reminding myself that it was probably nothing and that even on the off chance it was something, it was pretty small, thus nothing to worry about. Early in the waiting period, I was about 96-97% sure it was nothing. But, by about day 6, that grew to about 99.99999999%. But the waiting was still getting on my nerves.

A week before the biopsy, a nurse from the breast center called to walk me through the procedure. It went something like this. "You will be getting an ultrasound guided core needle biopsy. They'll find the lump again on the ultrasound and the doctor will mark where she wants to enter your breast. They will numb you with lidocaine. The doctor will make a small cut where she will enter with the instrument. The instrument has a core needle, or hollowed out needle on the end and she will use it to collect samples. It will make a clicking sound when she collects a sample. She'll deposit the sample in a container and then go back in to collect a total of 3-6 samples. When she is done, she will insert a titanium marker so that we can watch that spot on future mammograms. We'll apply pressure for 10 minutes to stop the bleeding. We'll cover with steri-strips. Then, we'll take you in for a mammogram so we can get a new baseline for your right breast. Bring a supportive bra that you can sleep in because you'll need to wear it for 24 hours. Any questions?"

I don't remember what questions I actually asked, but the one that was reverberating in my brain was, "Really? You're going to give me another mammogram after all of that?"

Anyway, the day of the procedure finally arrived. I was told to arrive 45 minutes early, so I did. I'm not sure why that was necessary unless they wanted me to get really familiar with their waiting room. Luckily a friend had come along so the wait went quickly.

They called me back on time and had me change into the lovely short smock thing they provide. Then, I had to wait for the ultrasound tech. More waiting. But, it wasn't a long wait. She took me back to the room and explained that they suspected it might be a papilloma, which is benign, but would probably need to be removed. But, there was a chance it was nothing at all. That sounded good to me. It sounded like worst-case scenario is that it's benign and needs to be removed.

She went on to describe what would happen during the procedure and it was pretty much as described a week earlier by the nurse. Pretty much. When she got to the part about the needle, she said, "Oh, and we have this new instrument we're going to use today. You'll be the first one we've used it on. Instead of having to go in multiple times to collect samples, this instrument collects multiple samples on one insertion. We've never used it on a human before, but we've used it on a fake breast with peas."

Really? Really.

I'm all for the latest gadgets and gizmos when we're talking computers or ways to make my tv-watching experience better. But, do I really want to be the first person whose breast they've used an "instrument" on? Well, OK. Even better, a representative from the company who makes this fine instrument was there and wanted to observe so I had an extra person in the room.

The procedure was pretty much painless. (Even the post-biopsy mammogram was pretty pain-free.) When they injected the lidocaine, they could tell by the way the lump behaved that it is probably just fibrocystic changes or something...not a papilloma. But, they'll test the tissue to be sure. Waiting on those results as we speak. As they inserted the titanium marker they assured me it wouldn't set off the metal detectors at the airport. I asked if I could at least brag to my friends that I have a titanium breast. They said I could. Be jealous. (It's a tiny little ribbon shaped marker.)

So, now all that is left to do is wait for the official word. I am not at all anxious about it, but looking forward to the official news and an end to the waiting.


(Reminder: October is national breast cancer awareness month, so I feel inclined to remind my gal friends that if you are due for your annual mammogram, schedule one soon!)