it’s raining cats and dogs…

The rain has come home to roost in the Seattle area. There was never a question as to its returning…it was just a matter of when. Thank goodness hubby and I are pretty near done spiffying up the front yard after a year of neglect. Now I’ve just got to get the slug bait down before those little buggers feast to their hearts’ content. Once they get going, there’s no stopping ’em. Meanwhile the bunny rabbits, cute as they are, continue hippity-hopping about as though they own the yard. Truth be told, they pretty much do.  

So while it drizzles outdoors, here’s a little something to warm your heart and  lift your spirits. 

…gotta love our furry little pets.

………hugmamma.

living her best life:#56…hawaii bound

Yesterday Pat text me some great news …

Wanted to update you…I’m doing really well.

We meet with Dr. Gertz tomorrow and expect him to release me. If that happens then that means we can go home! [whoopee!!!]

Because our flight is not until the 8th we’ll have some time to play tourists again. The plan is to check out of the Transplant House on Monday and drive to Duluth near Lake Superior for a couple of days and eventually be back in Minneapolis near the airport before the weekend.

Can’t wait to go home [!!!!!]

Without a doubt…

…pat’s living her best life…

………hugmamma.

scratching an itch…

…that’s how a pundit described Donald Trump’s presidential campaign.

We all like a good scratch now and then. It alleviates an annoyance.

What folks don’t realize is that the solution to the itch in Trump’s case would lead to a case of…poison ivy. And having suffered from a bad case of it a number of years ago, the only solution was medication…prednisone, to be specific. It took eliminating the itch from the inside out.

Living through 4 years of a Trump administration would be akin to a case of poison ivy with no immediate relief in sight.

Trump gleefully tosses out epithets like ” I don’t give a shit!” when responding to questions from the press. Wow! Won’t it be cool to have a president well versed in vulgarity. America’s face to the world will be a man who swears…and doesn’t give a shit. He’ll make Putin look like an altar boy. There’s no doubt they both swear, it’s just that the Russian leader can hold his tongue. Unlike Trump, whose mouth is always open…because his tongue is always clacking.

Trump as president would be a throwback to the days when America was seen as a big bully. Those days are gone. The Wild West is gone. Pushing people around to get our own way…that’s gone.

Donald Trump envisions the presidency like a reality show, one in which he can…fire…anyone and everyone not to his liking. The world will be his oyster…or so he thinks. And we will suffer the consequences if enemies, and friends, refuse to subjugate themselves to The Donald’s wishes.

A vote for Trump will be a vote…

…for taking one giant step backward.

………hugmamma.

living her best life: #55…can’t wait!!!

I text Pat today…

How are you? Whatcha doing? I am headed to the antiques shop to put some stuff. [I sell antiques/collectibles at an antiques mall.] Armsful of hugs…

And Pat text me right back…

Hi…actually just had lunch and am ready for a nap…can’t take the Hawaiian outta this girl! [tell me about it] I’m eating more of my meals as opposed to drinking them. My numbers are continuing to go up and I’m feeling much better. They stopped a bunch of meds…woohoo! [double woohoo!!!] 

I have a followup appointment with Dr. Gertz on Friday along with the transplant coordinator. This is to go over what to do at home [home…yahoo!!!] for the next 100 days and thereafter. Usually patients return on Day 100, but I’m pretty sure that appointment will be with my oncologist back home.

Not sure when Dr. Gertz will actually clear us to go home but our flight is scheduled for the 8th. [yippee, yay yeah!!!] 

If we have a few days we’ll leave the Transplant House and maybe drive to Duluth. In any case we’ll be in Minneapolis the night before our flight so we won’t have that long drive.

Looking forward to going home!

Quite a woman, my sister-in-law. The way she tells it…it’s just another day in the life of. And yet we all know it’s been anything but. I’m sure Brad would have more to say about the journey he’s traveled with Pat. Knowing the two of them as I do though…

…she’ll go back to work, and he’ll go back to fishing…and their sons will enjoy having mom and dad home again.

…all our love and prayers go with them.

………hugmamma.

For you ‘Mama’

hugmamma:

…mother’s day…is every day…

…as long as there’s a child…longing to be loved…and hugged.

………hugmamma.

(To hear the beautiful music that accompanies these lovely photographs, go to… https://passiondew.wordpress.com/2015/05/10/for-you-mama/)

Originally posted on The Passion Dew:

Forget me not

Forget me not

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Daddy’s Girl

hugmamma:

A loving, lovely tribute to a father…an amazing man…a flawed human being…a talented singer. How wonderful to have captured his lilting voice…a reminder of a very special person.

………hugmamma.

Originally posted on A Day In The Life:

daddy (1) - CopyAre we who we are because of genetics? environment? a combination of both? As I have grown older I have to come to realize I am my father’s daughter most certainly. So much of who I am, the things that make me tick, are so because of him. I was always closer with my father than my mother. He was always the more “emotive” parent- free with his hugs, easy to laugh, a good listener who really heard what you had to say. He was willing to engage in discussion at times when my mother just saw everything as black or white, gray never existed in her world. I was an emotional child- easy to cry, sensitive- my mother didn’t know what to do with it- thankfully my father was always there.

One of my earliest memories (I was 5) is of us going bird watching together. He was an…

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…one breath…

A lovely, lovely video created by Livonne…in memory of her dad. 

We can all take away the message of love we hold dear in our hearts…in spite of the heartache that often accompanies it.

You can read the post which accompanies this at… http://livonne.com.au/2015/07/15/with-just-one-breath/

…leaves me…speechless.

………hugmamma.

living her best life: #54…letting go…

…of her “crowning glory.”

As usually occurs when a patient undergoes heavy doses of chemotherapy, Pat lost her thick, beautiful hair today. The upside, if there is any, is that she’s midway through her treatment so she should begin to feel better.

Fingers crossed.

7/22… …Haven’t been eating a whole lot…lost more weight. Have to get calories in some way so most are from liquids. I will eat half a banana or peach, some cereal…but liquids are just easier.

7/23…I’m feeling better today. I might be turning the corner although the antibiotics still knock me out. 

7/24… …As for me, I’m just resting before my evening appointment. It’s typical for me to run a fever in the afternoons so I took some Tylenol. They’ll take blood cultures this evening just to make sure there is no infection.

I’m at the point now where I’m hanging on desperately to what dignity I have left. My hair is starting to fall out in clumps…I’ve got so much hair though that it may take a while. May end up at a salon to just buzz it off…we’ll see.

…I love you too. Thank you for being so supportive.

…We’ve been texting. Aiden’s wondering how I’m doing with Brad’s cooking. Says he’ll cook me something good when I get home.

…weather has been really nice in MN. Today is that magic Day 12 and my counts are headed up! That means I should start feeling better but today I was feverish for most of the day. Tylenol takes a while to kick in and doesn’t really get rid of the fever completely. Wanted to take a drive today but just couldn’t bring myself to go…slept most of the day. Still go in twice a day for antibiotics and anti-nausea meds.

The nurse I had tonight was nice enough to buzz all of my hair off. We had made arrangements in the morning for him to do it in the evening. We weren’t sure if we could go to just any salon being that we have to be careful of any cuts so when we asked John, he said he could do it for me. Apparently he does it for a lot of patients. Not sure if he’s the only one, but the other nurses said “Welcome to John’s House of Beauty”…it’s one haircut he can’t screw up. Feels better but weird. Better because my scalp was kinda sore…I told Brad I think it was the hair desperately trying to hang on…so that pain is gone. Weird in that when I put on the hood of my jacket it feels like my head has a cap with velcro on it. It’s a new look for me…that’s all I can say.

To which I responded…You’re beautiful…inside and out. I love you for the fantastic person you are. You’re like my guardian angel…without hair. Love it. I’d say I’d join you…but I think I’m headed there anyway…thinning hair. Trying to hang onto the few strands I have.

Pat’s been amazing in allowing me to ruminate with her about my daughter’s wedding next year. In spite of her own situation, she offers support for what’s in store for our family as we count down the months, weeks and days until the big event. She and Brad are planning to fly from Hawaii to be with us and has texted…”let me know if you want anything from Hawaii…not that anything Hawaiian would match, but maybe favors with a Hawaiian twist,” and…”We would love to help out in any way we can!”

Imagine! My sister-in-law has cancer…and she’s offering to help me. A sweetheart. That’s all I can say…

…sending pat and brad…armfuls of hugs…from all of us who thinks…she’s pretty great!

………hugmamma.img_4207.jpg

 

 

living her best life: #53…feeling run over

…by a Mac Truck! 

Hi [hugmamma]…

Don’t know if you’ve gotten any of my text responses…thought I’d just send a quick update.

They say I’m doing well and I’m right where I should be. Even so, I still feel like crap. One doc described it as being hit by a Mac Truck, and then the truck backs over you and finally dumps its load on you.

That about sums it up.

There are moments in between when I feel somewhat normal, but those moments  don’t last very long.

Today is Day 8. I won’t go back and describe the past few days because I’m concentrating on moving forward and I’d rather not relive the past…not yet anyway.

I’m at the point where my body is trying to replace platelets so I can be weaned off the antibiotics, and anti-viral and anti-fungal meds. I think that’s right. I just know my body has to start fighting back on its own now.

That’s all for now…going back to rest.

I love you.

Pat

…and we all love you and brad…and continue to pray for you both.

………hugmamma.

…a prince…to a…frog???

…a law professor to…a reality show bully???

That’s what we’re talking about if Donald Trump succeeds President Obama. 

God help us.

Enemies of the President have to admit the man has class.

Obama doesn’t scream his disdain on national television when he doesn’t take kindly to something someone is asking. Yes, he’ll say “You should know better,” in a professorial tone of voice. Whether or not the object of his disappointment is duly chastised or not depends upon the health of that person’s backbone. Trump on the other hand instills enough fear in the object of his rage, that they can’t wait to get the hell out of his sight. Which suits The Donald just fine.

“You’re fired!”

So maybe his American subjects would be able to sidestep President Trump’s wrath…with a lot of fancy footwork, I might add. And maybe the American media would have a field day dissecting The Donald’s every faux pas, not to mention the abundance of material late night talk show hosts would have at their disposal. And it’s not too far-fetched to think that reality TV would be a frequent guest of Trump’s White House. Perhaps they’d even move into the East Wing, cozying up to the new First Lady of Trump-dom, Melania.

Recent occupants of the White House have, for the most part, adopted a sense of quiet decorum. Yes, some have had their pecadilloes aired in public. However as we all know, that’s the nature of the beast…politics. To imagine, however, that President Trump would mind his p’s and q’s is like putting a sack over a parrot’s head. The Donald’s dyed, golden crest just wouldn’t stand for it! Or it’s more likely that it couldn’t…lay down for it. 

“You’re fired!” Trump would squawk at the top of his lungs.

Americans know all too well that The Donald suffers from…foot-in-mouth disease. We give him wide berth to go on spewing his nastiness. He, meanwhile, remains totally oblivious to us and our small, inconsequential lives. Now that he’s set sights on the White House, Trump realizes he needs our votes. However once he moves in he’ll dump us with…

“You’re fired!”

When it comes to global affairs, President Trump’s style won’t change. He’ll puff up his chest like the proud rooster he is and blast everyone in sight with a reverberating…

“You’re fired!”

Trouble is The Donald’s screams will fall on deaf ears, for the world won’t tolerate another Hitler. We shouldn’t either. In fact, we should…

…give him the boot…before he becomes a big pain in the derriere!!!

………hugmamma.

 

 

 

be kind to your spouse…

…or you might wind up drowning in the ocean…like Natalie Wood.

The trick to enjoying celebrity and wealth is not allowing either to take on a life of its own. Unfortunately, too many in Hollywood lose their real identities to the ones portrayed on the screen, whether it’s in the movies or on television. Once he or she is bitten by fame, there’s an overwhelming desire to keep it going…at any cost.

Goodbye Natalie, Goodbye Splendour by Marti Rulli with former Splendour Captain Dennis Davern, reads like a thriller-soon-to-be made into a movie. Why it never made it that far is a puzzle all by itself. Probably because celebrity and wealth bought everyone’s silence…most of all…Hollywood’s.

After all, Robert Wagner was one of Hollywood’s own.

Too many lives, big and small, would have been affected…negatively. The tentacles of celebrity and wealth are far-reaching as was evident in the mysterious circumstances surrounding the death of Natalie Wood.

True. Natalie Wood was one of Hollywood’s sweethearts, ever since she charmed her way into our homes and hearts as the beguiling Suzy Walker in Miracle on 34th Street, an iconic favorite at Christmastime. However once Natalie Wood was found dead, there was no bringing her back. So why destroy another Hollywood star in a sordid investigation that would leave the public wondering about Tinsel Town’s morals. There was no fool-proof evidence of Wagner’s involvement in his wife’s death, so why have audiences turn away from the golden goose that was Hollywood for all who made a living within its protective confines.

What about those charged with investigating the death of Natalie Wood? Good question.

Remember Marilyn Monroe? O.J. Simpson? Robert Blake? Michael Jackson?   What they all had in common was celebrity and wealth…in varying degrees. Nonetheless, it seems anytime someone famous is involved…the rules go…bye-bye.

Everyone involved in solving the case is entangled in the celebrity and wealth surrounding the high profile personality. Whether it’s that they are overwhelmed and intimidated by the fame, or they want some of it to rub off on them.

Goodbye Natalie, Goodbye Splendour makes a compelling case against Robert Wagner as the person responsible for the death of Natalie Wood. 

The only person alive–Robert John Wagner–who undoubtedly knows how Natalie Wood got into the water, will obviously never talk about it, so exactly how Natalie got into the water may never be known, but what is known is that Wagner was with her when the “mystery” was born. What is known is that Wagner argued terribly with his wife. He was raging mad and acted upon the rage by taking a marital fight out to an open deck on his yacht. His wife was in her nightgown, arguing with him. Minutes later, she was in the water–wearing her coat–and crying to be saved.

The “mystery” of Natalie’s death would not have been too difficult to solve, certainly not for a police department and a medical examiner’s staff, had they pursued every angle of the case together. Many novices have no trouble solving it through the use of common sense. It seems the public is all that Natalie has left.

Wagner has never addressed his drastic delay in searching for Natalie. No one asks him for details. His fans defend that waiting for hours is logical, even though the number one rule in boating is to call for immediate help when someone is missing. Dennis Davern knows the proper procedures to follow when someone is missing from a boat. Wagner’s refusal to allow Davern to search for Natalie indicates that he did not want his wife to be helped: perhaps not ever to be found. Natalie’s jacket kept her afloat, helping her to be found shortly after a proper search.

Wagner then still balked on calling for professional help when harbormaster Doug Oudin pleaded with Wagner after three o’clock in the morning to allow him to call the Coast Guard. The harbormaster waited for Wagner’s approval.

Avalon Sheriff Kroll saw the inside of Splendour–the broken glass, the master stateroom in disarray–and ignored it.

While Baywatch divers hunted for Natalie beneath Splendour, diver Roger Smith said he was angry that professional help had not been called for sooner. Smith had asked Bombard not to touch Natalie’s body. “Homicide might be involved,” Smith had said. Smith obviously suspected something sinister.

Everyone’s peculiar deference to Wagner carried on throughout the morning, as each and every official in contact with Wagner after Natalie’s bruised dead body was found felt the loss of this remarkable woman and thus related to the pain they believed Wagner endured. Everyone allowed the man with the “most pain” to direct the aftermath of his wife’s death. Wagner’s grief was apparent to Duane Rasure, and although Wagner had primed Davern on what to tell authorities and on what not to offer, Rasure had been so overwhelmed with Wagner’s suffering that he let it slide when Davern reacted to Rasure with nervousness, offense, and outright lies. Rasure got mad at the “lanky, drunk guy from New Jersey” instead–and has stayed mad at him.

Wagner wanted off the island. A private helicopter was summoned. Wagner did not want to be interviewed by Rasure. Rasure let him go home. Legal assistance was ready and waiting for Wagner and Davern at Wagner’s front door. It’s what money can buy. All of the right people made the wrong decision to allow Robert Wagner to direct a crime scene.

Celebrity privilege was indeed alive and thriving on the morning of November 29, 1981, at the Isthmus of Catalina Island aboard the moored boat, Splendour. Celebrity “get out of jail free cards” may as well have been issued. Years later, when Davern told the truth, he was threatened with criminal charges and jail time if he changed the story that the attorney provided by Wagner had prepared for Dennis in 1981. Years later, that same attorney cooperated with Davern’s choice to speak with a writer from Vanity Fair.

What’s bizarre is that Robert Wagner told Davern to accompany the authorities and identify Natalie Wood’s body.

Dennis, unable to bring his eyes to focus on her, choked out, “It’s her.”

“You’ll have to look at her, Mr. Davern,” he was told. …

Dennis trembled as he forced himself to move his eyes from Natalie’s torso to her face. Her arms were exposed, and he saw the bruises. The fronts of her legs also showed bruises, far too many. Dennis wondered why her nightgown had not been pulled down to cover her exposed legs. He caught his breath when he saw that her eyes were still open. Her face appeared swollen, but not deformed, a bit greenish white in color, and her mouth had gone limp. She looks at peace, though, he tried to convince himself.

He dropped his eyes and whispered, “Yes, It’s Natalie Wood.”

Someone took hold of Dennis’s elbow to lead him away, but he pulled back and looked again at Natalie. He scanned his eyes across her body and concentrated on her legs and arms, noticing even more bruises. He started to count. One, two, four, seven…ten…he had seen enough, but there were more, including a scrape on her left cheek.

Neither the author, Marti Rulli, or I for that matter, is claiming that Robert Wagner did not love Natalie Wood. Far from it, the man was possessive of his wife and his jealousy got the better of him.

After years passed, it became easier to convince himself that his anger and actions were justified. And to write the autobiography he presents in 2008 shows that he thinks he is utterly immune to doubt and suspicion. He had wanted to stop books and movies and other people from telling about their lives. He had asked people in show business to stay away from people he disliked. He wants the laws changed so that no one can reveal his true colors after his demise. He thinks he has gotten away with his part in Natalie’s death. And he indeed had a big part in it. He smashed a wine bottle, screamed profanities and fought a deadly argument with Natalie after she had gone to their stateroom to go to bed. She would have awakened the next morning if only her husband had left her alone. He took the fight to the back deck, and minutes later, Natalie was no longer on board. …

Actor Christopher Walken, the only guest aboard, was the person to whom Robert Wagner directed his rage after smashing the wine bottle across the table…”Do you want to fuck my wife, is that what you want?”

Since Natalie’s death, Wagner has been sheltered by his insider network of secrecy and privilege for so long he appears to believe in the image he has created for himself. He has never had to bear the brunt of a direct, in-your-face accusation or questioning. His media buddies and selected interviewers tiptoe around him as if a twenty-seven-year-old death can still shatter him. Interviewers start their questions with their sympathetic eyes and condolences even decades later, as if Wagner is still the victim of love lost and innuendo. Wagner interviewers rarely express sympathy for Natalie’s experience. It is Wagner they have coddled, while Natalie is the truest victim.

The saddest thing about the entire affair is that Natalie Wood’s worst nightmare…dying in dark water…could have been averted.

Marilyn Wayne and her fiance, businessman John Payne, anchored in a sailboat within earshot of the Splendour, had heard someone calling out for help.

…they were sleeping in their stateroom aboard John’s forty-two-foot sailboat, the Capricorn, which was equipped with a silent generator. John always slept with an open window in his cabin, and this night, despite the rain, was no exception. A distant voice, crying for help, awakened him. John sat up to listen intently. “Help me, someone please help me,” he heard again. He awakened Marilyn and asked her to listen. Alarmed, Marilyn called out to her young son, Anthony, who also heard the cries. He wore a digital watch, and Marilyn asked him for the time. It was just minutes after eleven o’clock.

The cries for help continued. John went to the control panel and switched on their beam light. Marilyn went on deck to look toward the sound, but it was dark and damp, and she could not see anything. Marilyn had a bead on the plaintive cry for help, though, and thought if she swam just about forty feet, she might be able to help. Marilyn, an avid and strong swimmer, told John she wanted to jump into the water and swim toward the cries, but John convinced her it could be too dangerous. “You have Anthony to think of. Whoever’s out there could pull you under too.” He persuaded her to stay on board. They called the harbor patrol but no one answered. They called the sheriff’s office in Avalon, twelve miles away, and the person who answered told them a helicopter would be sent. They heard loud music, too, so they thought there was a party on a nearby boat.

Then they heard a man’s voice, slurred, and in an aggravated tone, say something to the effect of “Oh, hold on, we’re coming to get you.” Marilyn was not sure of the exact words used, but there was no mistaking that it was a man’s voice, and he sounded miserable.

But the woman’s cries continued: “Someone please help me, I’m drowning, please help me.” The voice did not seem to be moving further away. It was clear and concise.

For fifteen minutes, John and Marilyn felt helpless as they waited for a helicopter that never arrived. Their dinghy had already been deflated for the night and would take more than a half hour to prepare, so they were at a loss to help. After a fifteen to twenty minute wait, the cries for help ended. A few minutes later, the music ended too. There was utter silence–a haunting kind of silence. Terribly disturbed, John and Marilyn could only hope that the pleas had stopped because of a rescue. They went back to their stateroom for a terribly restless sleep.

The following morning the couple learned that Natalie Wood had drowned. “…they felt sickened by the news and had no doubt that it had been Natalie crying for help.”

Marilyn Wayne had believed the death was an accident and for a time felt sorry for Robert Wagner. However when neither she nor John were interviewed by the police even though they claimed to have talked with the couple, and when someone from the L.A. Times called to interview her, Marilyn became involved. She went so far as to call L.A. County Coroner Thomas Noguchi to “correct him on his ‘timeline,’ which she knew was off.” Although the authorities knew of Marilyn’s account, they chose to dismiss her. In fact “Detective Rasure was reported to have said that Marilyn Wayne was just someone who wanted her name in the papers–to be connected to a celebrity’s legend. Marilyn, like Dennis, had been bombarded with requests for interviews, but she never talked to anyone again” until contacted by another author who was writing a book about Natalie Wood.

Obviously someone didn’t want Marilyn Wayne to talk about what she knew.

“Three days after Natalie died, Marilyn found a scribbled message on a torn piece of paper…that read, ‘If you value your life, keep quiet about what you know.’ She immediately knew it was related to Natalie Wood’s death because that’s all anyone had been talking about. She suddenly became pretty vocal about letting everyone know she believed Natalie’s death to be accidental.

Marilyn Wayne was afraid.

When threats continued, she contacted her attorney to let him know about it and went so far as to make provisions in the event something might happen to her. John Payne did not experience any of that same kind of trouble, but John was a highly respected businessman, far wealthier than Robert Wagner. No one would bother John because of his status. Marilyn suspected she was targeted because she was the more vulnerable of the two. 

In the end…

Because of the condition of Natalie’s lungs, indicating she had by legal definition drowned, and because the coroner decided the drowning must have been “accidental,” the cause of her entry into the water was neglected. There was no way to know if her death was accidental, and in view of all her bruises, “undetermined” was the only logical choice.

But we had a chief coroner being chased by celebrity.

…fame and wealth…is it worth it?

………hugmamma.

Natalie Wood, c. 1970.

Homeless and Luckless, Piano Man Wows Internet and Gets New Start

hugmamma:

…never too late…to live your best life…

………hugmamma.

Originally posted on The Feels:

The city of Sarasota, Fla., has a project called “Sarasota Keys,” which installs lovely old upright pianos in public places where anyone can play. One day last week, a homeless man sat down at one of these sidewalk pianos at a public art exhibit and started playing the Styx’s “Come Sail Away.” Passersby took notice, pulling out smartphones to capture the moment and dollar bills to thank the musician.

Donald Gould, 51, a scrawny man of “cave man” appearance with scraggly hair and unkempt beard, kept his eyes on the keys and his music filled Main Street in downtown Sarasota, Fla.

Gould, or “Boone” as he is known around town, said he only wanted to earn a few bucks. A week later, video of his impromptu performance has been viewed more than 7.5 million times on YouTube and more than 5 million times on Facebook, with the videographer, Aroar Natasha,

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living her best life: #52…in it together

Today I text Pat…

Will post something today. Always thinking of you both, hoping you’re fine. God bless you for your strength and no nonsense ways. How are the boys? How’s Brad? How’s living been with others? I love you…

And  she text back…

I think the boys are fine…haven’t been up to texting them either. Doing okay…not great…passed out this morning in the shower so had to be admitted for observation. Prior to that I was doing pretty good. Just exhausted and constantly foggy. Thank God I have Brad with me.

Living with others has been great…it really does help both the patient and caregiver.

…God bless the mayo clinic…all the folks at gift of life transplant house

…and especially pat and brad.

………hugmamma.img_4416.jpg

living her best life: #51…a little tough

The easy banter has subsided. A more somber tone replaces Pat’s heretofore lightheartedness. Can’t say I blame her. In fact, how she’s remained so cool, calm and collected until now is something I can’t fathom. I’m sure most of us would give in to a little belly-aching now and then. Not Pat. The woman doesn’t know belly-aching. The day they left us on their way to Minnesota, Brad told me that, except for a few brief moments of frustration, Pat never complains. Doesn’t surprise me.

Ask any of the so-called “outlaws.” Our spouses, all siblings, are almost saint-like. We “outlaws” keep our better-halves anchored to earth with our very human failings. We like to think of ourselves as…merry-makers. We’re always…always…making merry.

On 7/17, Pat texted…Hi [hugmamma]…I think I’m doing pretty good…considering. Just tired most of the time, taking things now day by day, moment by moment. Feel pretty groggy for the better part of the day, trying to eat and drink more but it’s hard. Trying to also manage my meds…which is the toughest part. Doc says I’m doing good but they still talk about the low point being 12 days out as my counts continue to drop. So I don’t know if feeling good at one point in the day is a turning point or just a good moment to be embraced while it lasts. All I know is I can’t wait to go home. Love to you and [my brother].

On 7/18, yesterday, Pat texted. 

Hi [hugmamma]…thought I’d send a quick update…haven’t felt much like posting or journaling lately. Today is Day +5. I take a blood test every morning and meet with a nurse and doctor to go over any problems, side effects etc. I also go in morning and night to get anti-nausea meds through my central line.

Luckily Dr. Gertz has this month’s rotation so I see him often. According to him I’m doing as well as can be expected. Although now we have to watch even closer for any signs of infection. I’m basically at the half way point to the bottom…another 5-6 days and I should be at the turning point when my stem cells will start taking over and I’ll start feeling better. I don’t do much but rest when I can.

Brad has been great…he does everything from making my meals, to keeping track of my meds, water and food intake plus washing clothes and especially encouraging me by counting down the days and reminding me that i’m doing well.

This is not easy but it’s bearable knowing that everyone is praying for me back home. I hope you can post an update but if not, maybe you can just forward this text to the rest of the family.

I love you…Pat.

…and i love you…we all do.

………hugmamma.

THIS is the real ME! ... I pinky swear...

THIS is the real ME! … I pinky swear…

 

living her best life: #50…more girl talk

On 7/11, Pat texted…Hi [hugmamma]how exciting to be planning [a] wedding. We are looking forward to visiting Nashville next year.

Right now I am lying in bed getting the infusion of chemo…almost done. The bad side effects (IF ANY!) will start after a few days. Just gotta get through the next … Sorry…nurse came in and we are done. Heading back to the house…will text or email later.

Hi[hugmamma]got back to the house and took a nap…ready for some food now…always ready to eat. Have to make the most of the good days…thank God havent’ had any bad ones yet. 

So what is [your daughter’s] color scheme? Will the maid of honor and bridesmaids wear different dresses in the same color palette? I like that trend. So as the bride’s parents are you planning everything or are [the groom]s mom and sister helping? Just don’t get too stressed…did they set a date? I doubt you will get back to Hawaii between now and then so at some point I will get all the aunties and cousins together for a bridal shower…Hawaiian style…we’ll videotape and send it to you.

To which I replied…That is sooo beautiful. Made me cry. Been crying off and on…hormone therapy…oye vay! Also watching Hallmark Xmas tear jerkers…besides which I’m realizing that I’m losing my daughta. No more inside family jokes among the three of us. Have to mind my p’s and q’s…at least til I get really comfortable with [SIL.] He’s very nice…but we’ve only been with him twice now…in close quarters, for sure. Anyway, thank goodness I’ve you to confide in. You know [your brother]…don’t worry, be happy. Thank God, you [and your siblings] are so laid back.

Because [SIL and PIL] plan a trip to Hawaii, with our help, I am sure they’d really appreciate you’re all…whoever wants, of course…to contribute to their honeymoon fund. As you might guess, they have all the household goods they need…and clothes…since [PIL] has lived on her own for 11 years. Again, only a suggestion. 

Continue to pray you stay under the radar as far as the effects of chemo goes. How’s Brad doing with being the “hausfrau”??? hugs…

To which Pat replied…That’s a great idea…we can do a “bring them home” theme. 

Brad says the mistress of the mansion has not yelled at him yet…we do pretty good together…must be that “don’t worry, be happy” thing. For now when I watch movies, they are all comedies…I’m thinking of streaming the old Carol Burnett Show…

Then me…You and Brad haven’t had to put your feet in a kiddie pool yet? [hugmamma here: I had kidded Pat a while ago about visiting with her in Minnesota and the two of us dangling our feet in a plastic kiddie pool to cool off in Minnesota’s hot, humid summer heat.]

Then Pat…No…to pretend we’re on a relaxing vacation or because of the weather? It’s comfortably warm here…cooler when it’s overcast.

Me…Just got that..so there’s a mistress of the mansion? Someone who takes charge??? Hmmm…interesting.

[No reply from Pat.]

Today is the first day it’s not sweltering. TG we had our AC serviced. It was starting to poop out.

Pat…It’s really hot in Hawaii too with several tropical storms back to back blocking the trade winds. Luckily, so far they’ve tracked away from the islands.

People see Brad making dinner and serving me…a few have commented to get used to it and make sure he continues to do it at home!

Me…Too many distractions in Hawaii…like fishing and work, of course.

On 7/13, I texted…Love you both…the flowers are lovely, especially since they’re from two of God’s best people on His earth…armfuls of hugs and smooshies!

On 7/17, I texted…How are you doing? Hope you’re okay. Let me know. Love you two…lots!

…and i do.

………hugmamma.IMG_4128