The Girl Behind All That Lemonade

Dale Carnegie said: "When fate hands you lemons, make lemonade."

Sure, there are a bazillion other versions of this quote.  The most memorable one that comes to my mind at the moment is: "When life gives you lemons, hand them back and ask for chocolate instead."

But let's not kid ourselves here: the lemons life sticks us with are not exchangeable or returnable.  Period.

And we might all get them, but certainly not in any sort of equitable distribution.  Which probably accounts for the mountains of them that have shown up on my doorstep so far in my lifetime.

So what do I do with all those lemons?  I have made lemonade of course: lots and lots of delicious lemonade.

I've learned to cope, adapt and change.  I've learned to smile through my pain and hide my tears when life feels more like a punishment than a blessing. To deal with all those lemons, I've transformed myself into the ultimate super trooper.  Heck I've even adopted the motto "Life is not in having and getting, but in being and becoming." (Matthew Arnold)

This is all fine and dandy, but it also begs the question, 'Who is that girl behind all that lemonade?'  I mean, I don't walk around 24/7/365 with moonbeams sparkling in my eyes, rainbows shooting out of my ears and a glass of lemonade in my hand.  I'm not always smiling and putting a on happy face...and some of those lemons do wind up smashed on the kitchen floor (among other places.)

So let me get real.  Here is a peek behind the lemonade stand at three of the more grittier themes that are also a part of my life.

Disappointed

If I am going to be really honest, one the first things I need to admit is that I feel disappointed.  I'm not living the life of my dreams and that is quite a letdown.

At the moment, I've kind of put dreaming on hold because it brings me even more disappointment, and who needs that, right?  I'm strictly living life one day at a time, because it sometimes gets too overwhelming to think about life with chronic illness in bigger chunks that that.

Sure, life disappoints all of us on some level.  But my main concern is that I am not going to be the one things I always wanted to be--a mom.  Between infertility and chronic illness, life really has made this next to impossible (despite all the spam comments to the contrary every time I write about this painful subject.)

I'm at the point where disappointment is turning into regret...

Sad

When you have a lot of bad things happen to you, you can't help but feel the loss, disappointment and unfairness of it all.  It hurts like crazy!  And who wants to have to feel like that, right?

Sure, you can ignore it, distract yourself from it, even try to deny it.  But sooner or later it catches up to you.  Then you must decide if you will allow it to take you down into a black, bottomless abyss or chose to face it, feel it and figure out a way to keep living your life anyway.

When I say I am sad, what I am really feeling is sorrow.  Sorrow is a feeling of deep distress caused by loss, disappointment, or misfortune.  Sorrow has become part of who I am fundamentally.  It's all those scars while I've been living my life anyway.

By the way, just because sorrow is a part of my life doesn't mean I don't also feel joy too. In fact, philosophically speaking, one might say that to experience true joy one must also experience sorrow.  Either way, being sad is not the same as being clinically depressed, which by definition means you can't feel joy.

So don't send me referrals to shrinks or leave me recommendations for antidepressant medications.  Well, at least not yet... 

Unfulfilled

I haven't worked in seven years and, wow, that is a really long time.  Boy do I miss it too.

When I was working I felt like I was on a path filled with accomplishments.  I had a career mission, complete with all kinds of objectives and goals.  I was getting things done every day, week, month and year and I had something that was tangible proof of it too: my resume. 

In the last seven years I really don't feel like I have accomplished much.  Sure, I have been taking care of myself day in and day out.  I've developed some expertise in the self-help techniques I use to do just that too.  But it's been an exercise in repeating the same goals and objectives over and over again.  Sounds pretty boring to me.  Plus I'd be hard pressed to create a resume with that kind of experience.

Most of all, I feel like I am floundering.  Or maybe it's more accurate to say I currently feel like I'm squandering my time here on Earth.  I mean, I believe that we all have some kind of purpose here and I am definitely feeling like my mission has run into some serious health-related roadblocks that are preventing me from fulfilling mine, whatever exactly that is.

Which leads me to my next point--I'm not sure what my purpose is anymore.  Or perhaps I just haven't been able to figure it out because I have been so darn busy just trying to take care of myself.  Talk about the daily grind...

Some Final Thoughts

Another truth is that I have been living with serious illness and its aftermath since 1988.  That's 23 years.  That's a lot of time...

Some of this time was spent sitting in therapists' offices talking (and talking and talking) about all the crap that has happened to me.  I've had a lot of time to process these issues.  Along the way I have been in denial, angry, freaked out, livid, heartbroken, anxiety-ridden, enraged, devastated and, yes, even clinically depressed. 

Yes, I've had a lot of time to get down to the root of what bothers me the most and I think that disappointment, sadness and feeling unfulfilled pretty much sum it up.  They also, ironically, are the things that motivate me to keep moving on.  I haven't given up yet on creating a life that resembles some of my reality-tempered aspirations, contains a balance of joys and sorrows and helps me discover my true purpose and ways to fulfill it. 

Funny how life works, isn't it?

Question of the Week: Ever Think 'That Could Be Me'?

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After learning about the death of my 42 year old cousin from complications of type 2 diabetes, I wondered if the same fate lay in wait for me.

I thought the same exact thing when my mother died from metastatic colon cancer in 1999. My mother was only 61 when she died.  Her death spurred me to get my first colonoscopy last year.  This screening test was something my mother didn't do consistently and it wound up costing her her life.

I also found myself concerned in 2004 when, at the age of 70, my dad died from complications of Alzheimer's disease. Although, if I am honest, I was worried about getting Alzheimer's ever since I knew my dad had it back in 1997.  And I still worry about it from time to time.

Since my cousin's death sort of knocked me for a loop, I thought I'd do a quick Google search and alleviate my fears. No such luck...

I thought there would be some kind of information about predicting your own cause of death based on how your family members died.  Can you believe that I couldn't find one article on this subject?  That just doesn't seem right.  After all, it is my understanding that some illnesses run in families and are passed from one generation to the next.

I really wanted to find a plethora of articles that explored my risk of death from diabetes, colon cancer and Alzheimer's disease based on my family history so I could get some perspective and put my fears to rest.  Instead, those fears get to inhabit a small, dark corner disguised as huge question marks.

*sigh*

Do you ever find yourself wondering if you will die from the illnesses that took your grandparents, parents, sibling or other family members away from you?  I'd love to hear what you have to say on this topic, so leave me a comment or head over to the OMA&P! Facebook page to join the discussion.

Almost Wordless Wednesday: Who I Am

Image by Phoenix Dark-Knight via Flickr
I really like the video below and wanted to share it with you today. The creator is a young woman living with fibromyalgia and she published this video on YouTube this past Thursday, May 12th for Fibromyalgia Awareness Day. If you like this video too, you can click on it to head over to YouTube where you can leave this beautiful young woman a nice comment and some encouraging words.

Break Cancer: My Young Adult Cancer Experience

As a 23 year cancer survivor, sometimes I am asked how I found out that I had cancer. So today I'd like to share that story with you.


The Fall of 1987

September

My September that year started out like it had for the past four years. I was returning back to my undergraduate studies at UCLA. Only this was my senior year and the pressure was on to figure out what I was going to do with the rest of my life once I graduated with my Bachelors of Science in Kinesiology.

Then I got sick with some viral infection. To be honest, I can't quite remember if it was a stomach bug or some kind of a cold. What I do remember is that I didn't quite feel fully recovered from it once most of the symptoms had resolved. I kept going back to Student Health complaining that I wasn't feeling better.

October

By Halloween I still wasn't feeling 100% better, so I sought out a referral to a good general practice doctor in the vicinity of campus. I was able to see a regular doctor because at age 22 I was still on both of my parents' health insurance policies. After listening to my symptoms, completing an examination and taking some blood, this new doctor thought I was experiencing some kind of post-viral syndrome. He also mentioned that my white blood cell count was a little on the low side, but opted for a wait-and-see treatment approach.

November

I spent the month, and the Thanksgiving holiday, staying home from classes, taking it easy, getting extra rest and following up with my new doctor.

December

With no improvement, I started feeling frustrated. So I contacted my pediatrician in the San Fernando Valley and made an appointment to see him. Then I head to Santa Monica to get my records from the doctor there and discovered that it wasn't just my white blood cell count that was low--my red blood cell count was low too.

It felt weird being the oldest patient sitting in the waiting room of my pediatrician's office reading a copy of Highlights magazine, but I trusted that my pediatrician could figure out what was wrong with me. I hadn't seen him in over four years, so we spent a little time catching up before getting down to business. When all was said and done, he wanted to wait just a little bit longer to see if my counts would come back up on their own.

So I spent the week of Christmas 1987 and the week of New Year's 1988 trying my hardest to get better.

The Winter of 1988

January

I headed back to see my pediatrician the Monday after the New Year's. More blood was taken at that appointment and I received a call a few days later with the results. I learned that instead of improving, my blood counts have gotten worse, with my white blood cell count now at 0.9. (For reference, the normal range of the white blood cell count is 4.3 to 10.8 x 109 cells per liter in international units (IU).) The next words out of my pediatrician's mouth were, "I'm setting up an appointment for you to see a hematologist here in my building for later this week."

After three months of waiting, things started happening very quickly.

I saw the hematologist on Thursday and he scheduled a bone marrow biopsy for the next day. The following Wednesday I returned for the results of my biopsy and was told that I had leukemia. I was offered the option to start treatment at the community hospital a few blocks away from the hematologist's office, but I decided I wanted to go to UCLA for a second opinion and treatment. My parents drove me from that morning appointment straight to UCLA for an afternoon appointment in the Bowyer Oncology Clinic. By 5 PM I had been admitted into the hospital.

The View from 2011

I can see today that some of the early warning signs of my cancer had been missed by the doctors treating me back in 1987. Clearly my diagnosis of leukemia was delayed; fortunately for me my diagnosis didn't come too late. I was also incredibly fortunate to have my parents' medical insurance and I truly believe that participating in a clinical trial at UCLA increased my chances for becoming a cancer survivor.

It saddens me to learn that the survival rate for young adults with cancer has remained the same over the past 30 years. Since 1988, I thought there had been numerous advances in cancer early detection and treatment. Quite frankly, I expected that my diagnosis story would have been ancient history by now, not current events. We all have heard that early detection and early treatment of cancer yields a much better prognosis. I think it's about time young adults benefited from this reality.

This is why I am asking you today to help me Break Cancer.

I dare you: leave me a comment on this blog post. Help me set a record for the "Most Comments Received on a Cancer-Related Blog Post in 24 Hours." Together let's raise awareness about the issues facing young adults diagnosed with cancer today. Together, let's Break Cancer!

Question of the Week: Would You Miss Me If I Was Gone?

Image via WikipediaI bet you didn't know that I have a blog buddy. It's Jamee from A New Kind of Normal: Living Abundantly with Chronic Illness.

Now the main job of a blog buddy is to offer feedback and encouragement, because sometimes writer's block hits hard and inspiration flies right out the window!

My friend Jamee shared with me that she was thinking about giving up on blogging last week because it seemed like so many things were conspiring against her, like: her health, her commitment to her darling little girl and her blogging platform. She wrote a post just yesterday where she admitted that she has been in a "blog funk." But I was also relieved to learn in the same post that she is picking herself up, dusting herself off and forging ahead with a new writing plan.

My conversation with Jamee got me thinking about my own struggles with writer's block and maintaining my enthusiasm for blogging when I too get overwhelmed by events and want to throw in the towel.

Thankfully those moments are few and far between, mostly because your comments are so supportive of my efforts here. It truly get the feeling that you really would miss me if I stopped blogging...

So this week, could you leave a little comment love over at A New Kind of Normal and give Jamee the shot in the arm she needs to get over her blog funk?





And thank you, my readers, Facebook, Twitter and Google Friend Connect followers for all the ways you continue to inspire me with your comments here, on Twitter and over at the Oh My Aches and Pains! Facebook page. In light of your continued support, I reaffirm my commitment to keep working hard to bring you great reading here at OMA&P!

So no worries; I'm not going anywhere ... well, unless the Universe decides otherwise.

Have a great week!

25 Adjectives I Would Use to Describe Myself

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I'm a little late to the party, but I still want to play this game!

Fragile Annie at It's Time to Get Over How Fragile You Are first played back in June 2010 and I found that Elisabeth over at Redefining Good played last June too.

So here is the OMA&P! version of 25 Adjectives I Would Use to Describe Myself Right Now.

1. Flared-up
2. Tired
3. Sore
   
4. Achy
5. Sleepy
6. Zonked
7. Clumsy
   
8. Frustrated
9. Lonely
10. Struggling
11. Scattered
    
12. Bewildered
    
13. Behind
14. Fumbling
15. Hopeful
16. Smart
17. Thoughtful
    
18. Strong
19. Plucky
20. Honest
    
21. Brave
    
22. Real
23. Grateful
24. Fortunate
25. Happy

Let's keep this meme going. Add your 25 adjectives here in a comment, over at the OMA&P! page on Facebook or post them on your blog (be sure to leave a link to your post here so we can visit you.)

Question of the Week: Have You Had Too Many Medical Tests?

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I've had so many medical tests, I lost count somewhere way back in the 1980's. I guesstimate I've had enough tests for several 'average person' lifetimes. So no wonder along the way I've developed a healthy fear of medical tests, which borders on mild panic and anxiety every time a medical professional decides another one is needed.

The Lowlights

During my second chemotherapy treatment for leukemia, the doctors gave me so many chemo pre-meds that I literally cannot remember an entire week of my life. I don't remember changing my underwear, going to the bathroom, eating or changing my clothes. According to my friends and family who visited me during that week in the hospital, I had lively conversations with them, of which I cannot remember a single word I uttered.

Is it any wonder I don't like being sedated?

During that same time period, I had a Hickman catheter inserted and multiple bone marrow biopsies done. Sure, they use local anesthetic to numb the parts of my body involved, but I was awake the entire time during these procedures. For the Hickman catheter, they put a box with hole cut into it over my head so I couldn't see what they were doing while they worked for about 40 minutes. For the bone marrow biopsies, I needed to lay face down on an exam table and keep still for about 10 minutes.

It is any wonder I get nervous when they want to poke and prod me in the present day?

Getting Through It

Unfortunately, medical tests and chronic illness seem to go hand-in-hand. I have come to accept that radiology scans and various procedures are needed to diagnose or rule out conditions and provide medical treatment. So despite all my traumatic medical test baggage, I've needed to figure out how to endure and survive the medical tests that my doctors and I agree to be necessary and reasonable.

My Coping Strategies

During the week before:

1. Learn as much as I can about the procedure or test.
2. As for anti-anxiety medications for procedures like MRIs that provoke my claustrophobia.
3. Distract myself as much as possible with fun things to do in the days leading up to the event.
4. If I find myself worrying about the test, I set up a 5 to 10 minute appointment with myself each day to do all my fretting. Any distressing thoughts outside that appointment are stopped and saved until my worry time.
   
5. Schedule extra rest in the days leading up to the procedure, since I know my insomnia will be worse the night before my appointment.
6. Visualize a positive outcome whenever I think about the upcoming test.

On the day of the procedure:

1. Bring along a family member or friend. Hopefully they will be driving me to and from my appointment too.
   
2. Give myself plenty of time to get to the medical facility.
3. Repeat my mantra: 'I am good, I am fine, I'm O.K." liberally and often.
   
4. Bring along my MP3 player or a book to occupy myself while sitting in the waiting room.
5. Ask if my companion can be in the room with me during the appointment. (My husband actually sits in the MRI room and holds whatever is sticking out of the machine to keep me calm.)
6. Breathe.

So have you had too many medical tests too? How do you cope when your doctor decided you need just one more? Share your stories and thoughts here and join the discussion on the Oh My Aches and Pains! Facebook page.

100 Words: I'm Discombobulated

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Discombobulated: I don't know why I love this word, but I always have and it seems I always will.

Maybe it's because saying, 'My life is discombobulated.' makes me smile at the silliness of this last word.

Plus it sounds so much better than saying:

• Pain and fatigue make me quite muddled.
• My health is a mysterious puzzle.
• My sleep feels quite disturbed.
• My thoughts are all jumbled.
• All my plans have been undone.
• My ambitions appear frustrated.

Yes, when life leaves me befuddled and bewildered, it's much more fun to say 'I'm discombobulated.'


Do you have a favorite word or phrase you use to describe your state of being, especially when things aren't quite going the way you wish they would? Share it with me and your fellow OMA&P! readers...

Learning to Have a Mature Relationship with My Mother

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So if you have been reading along this week, so far I have told you about my siblings who choose not to talk to me and our mother who promoted discord and unstable relationships among the four of us growing up. I've talked about how, on my mother's side of the family, there is a multi-generational history of emotional cutoff. Then I admitted that, without the cooperation of my siblings, I am unable to stop this cycle from continuing.

So today I'm going to talk about how I grew up and learned to have a mature relationship with my mother BEFORE she died. That's right, I figured out a way to interact with her that didn't leave me depleted, angry or feeling like she had taken advantage of me. I actually was able to successfully interact with her AND feel good about it.

How did I do this?

It started in 1995 when I took a vacation from my family for a year and a half. I flat out told my mother that I needed to figure some things out for myself and didn't want to talk to her for a while. I didn't change my number or my address so my parents knew how to get a hold of me, but I also didn't encourage my mother to contact me "if there was an emergency" because she clearly didn't understand what the word emergency meant.

I spent that time getting to know myself and who I was. I looked at the mythology my family created about who I was and decided I wasn't buying into it any more. For example, my mother frequently said I was selfish and self-centered and, after careful consideration, I decided that wasn't an accurate description of myself. I went through every aspect of the mythical Selena, compared them to the real Selena and came to the conclusion that my family just didn't understand me.

Rather than be angry or upset, I decided to just try to accept this as fact. After all, up to that point, I had spent 30 years trying to demonstrate that they had it all wrong, trying to get them to see the real me. I gave up on seeking my family's validation and approval. I embraced the fact that I was an adult and could do whatever I wanted to do and it didn't matter what my family thought or how they judged me.

I also recognized that many of my family's judgments, criticisms and rejections were steeped in emotionality. So I decided that I was going to try and avoid getting caught up in the emotional tornado of bitterness, unhappiness, shame, hysteria and anxiety that swirled around my family. I worked on adopting a calm, cool and collected stance so my thinking and behavior could be rooted in a careful consideration of the facts.

Then came the big test.

December 1996 I got a Christmas card from one of my sisters saying "Dad really needs us now." So I went to go visit him when my mother was at work and immediately could tell he displayed cognitive deficits indicative of Alzheimer's disease. I decided my vacation was over and I needed to be involved with my parents once again. But instead of allowing myself to get sucked back into old patterns of behavior, I started setting limits with my mother.

In the past, my mother sought me out when she wanted me to do something for her. So I started by reminding myself that this was HER husband and it was HER responsibility to care for him, even though this was my dad and my heart yearned to take care of him myself. This time, I gave her the information and referrals she needed so she could take care of HER husband HERSELF. I would support her and my dad, but I wasn't solving this situation for her.

I worked on not letting her hurt my feelings when she said something objectionable. I worked on being open-minded when she spoke, listening instead of formulating a comeback to her opinions. I worked on controlling my temper. I worked on being clear about my limits and what I was and wasn't willing to do. I worked on being compassionate, not critical of my mother. I worked on accepting that I couldn't change her thoughts, feelings or actions, only my own.

It's amazing how other people respond when you change.

It wasn't all that I wanted or hoped for, but we somehow were able to get along better. I made choices about what I was going to do and didn't succumb to pressure to do more. I acted thoughtfully, in the best interest of myself, my husband and my parents (in that order.) I sidestepped the emotional tornado and didn't get caught up in the panic, fear, hostility or guilt. I could disagree with her and it just wasn't a big deal anymore. I focused on just being ME, without worrying about having to justify or defend myself.

When my mother was diagnosed with colon cancer a month before my wedding in 1998, I didn't postpone our plans. I did everything I could to be there for her during her illness and took care of my dad when she was gone. We never truly resolved our differences before she died, but I did go and say goodbye to her. I don't have any regrets. I am confident I did everything a good daughter would have done to help their dying mother, which in turn gives me peace of mind as I move forward with my life.

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I Am a Fabulous Sugar Doll Blogger

I am so honored to receive the The Fabulous Sugar Doll Blogger Award from Dot and FibroMom at Fibroworld. I love their blog, especially Dot's hippo cartoons, and I am touched that they find my blog interesting and enjoyable too. Thank you so much Dot and FibroMom!

In accepting the Sugar Doll Award award, I agree to list 10 things you may not know about me and then pass the award onto fellow bloggers that I love to read.

1. I was a member of the YMCA swim team in grade school and breaststroke was my specialty.
2. I participated in Girl Scouting, from Brownies to Seniors, and received the First Class Award (the highest award given in 1978) as a Cadette Girl Scout when I was in 8th grade.
3. I excelled at selling Girl Scout cookies and YMCA Christmas tree tickets door-to-door and won a ten speed bike and a portable black and white TV for being a top salesperson.
   
4. I developed a very successful babysitting business in junior high and high school, which kept me busy earning money almost every weekend.
5. I hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and back up again as a teenager with my family.
6. I paid my own way through college and graduate school at UCLA.
7. I was a paid employee of the 1984 Los Angeles Olympic Organizing Committee in the Accreditation Department and had a wonderful time working for them. Our motto was: We don't need no stinking badges!
   
8. I traveled alone to Greece and Turkey the summer of 1990 to celebrate receiving my Bachelor's degree in Kinesiology.
9. I bought my home in 1994 before I started dating my husband, thus proving that women who own houses attract spouses.
10. I answered a question correctly at Sea World San Diego and was invited to go behind the scenes at the penguin enclosure where I got to pet a penguin.

I've selected five recipients to bestow with this blogging honor and so, without further ado, The Fabulous Sugar Doll Blogger Award goes to...

(drum roll please)

• Renee at Renee's Reflections
• Sherlock at Sherlock's Stuff
• Miranda at Dysautonomia: My Journey, My Battle, My Victory, My Life
• Teresa at ♥ Too Many Heartbeats ♥
• Maureen (my lucky #13 blog follower!) at Mo is blogging…I think

Please check out FibroWorld and my five fabulous award winners. Thanks again to Dot and FibroMom for giving me my very first blogging award.

The Best Insight I Had As a Kid

Image by hyperboreal via Flickr

Did you miss me yesterday? I needed the time to recover from my MRI experience on Tuesday. For some reason, I felt way more exhausted Wednesday, perhaps from the combination of the stress of the procedure, the added pain in my left arm from the contrast material being injected into the wrong place and the mild sedative I took to calm myself down before the procedure. But I got good news today, so in the end everything worked out and I am glad the experience is over.

Now for today's post:

I'm not sure what got me thinking about this lately, but I admit this memory from my childhood brings both a smile to my face and a feeling in my heart akin to amazement mixed with appreciation.

As I kid I attended Catholic school. Using class time to study religion is part of going to a religion-affiliated school. My husband, who is a proud graduate from the public school system, initially was unaware of this fact. After informing him of this fact, he often comments when I don't know something he does that, "It is because you went to Catholic school and were studying religion when you should have been studying _____."

There might be some truth to that comment, but I am getting sidetracked here...

I remember when my class was preparing for First Communion back when we were in 2nd grade. We used a book called a catechism, a collection of all the prayers and other information we needed to learn before we could receive First Communion. After learning my three options for the afterlife, Heaven, Hell and Purgatory, I decided at age 7 that I wanted to to go to purgatory. To this day I am not sure why or how I came to this conclusion, but at age 7 I knew that the older I got, the more sins I would commit. I knew I could not be perfect in this life, so purgatory seemed like the reasonable goal for my afterlife.

Perhaps I should stop here an provide the official definition of purgatory (from The Compendium of the Catechism of the Catholic Church):

What is purgatory?

Purgatory is the state of those who die in God’s friendship, assured of their eternal salvation, but who still have need of purification to enter into the happiness of heaven.

How can we help the souls being purified in purgatory?

Because of the communion of saints, the faithful who are still pilgrims on earth are able to help the souls in purgatory by offering prayers in suffrage for them, especially the Eucharistic sacrifice. They also help them by almsgiving, indulgences, and works of penance.

One of the things I also noticed in parentheses after each prayer in the catechism was how many years you would get off your stay in purgatory by saying each prayer. So guess what I did during my whole year in the second grade? I said as many prayers as I could so I could get out of purgatory early. I didn't just rattle them off in my head as fast I could. No, I remember distinctly concentrating and really meaning every word of each prayer I said.

Now I am not sure if modern catechisms still have the same format. In fact I am pretty sure they do not. After all, when I attended Catholic school purgatory still existed. According to Pope Benedict the XVI in a communique back in 2007, purgatory and limbo no longer exist.

I guess it's now Heaven or Hell for me, no in between. Which is too bad, because as an adult I learned that life can be very complicated. In this modern world it is not always so clear what is right and wrong, black and white, good or sinful like the catechism and Catholic school taught me. The older I get, the more and more I realize that purgatory really is the most practical goal for the afterlife.

I am grateful to my 7 year old self for establishing this fact early on in my life.

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The Best Advice I Received From My Mother

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I admit that the title of this post is misleading. I don't want you to think that my mother sat me on her knee as a child and whispered great things in my ear. She didn't. In fact, most of her communications with me took the form of shouts and barked orders from across the room.

Another fun fact about my mother, which is related to the title of this post, is that she spent some time dabbling in the arts and crafts. I enjoy arts and crafts too, but like so many things in my family, the knowledge to do them it wasn't something passed from my mother to me. No, my mother's craft time involved my mother holed up in her sewing room with the door closed.

Now I am not sure when decoupage enjoyed a resurgence during my childhood, but my mother jumped onto that bandwagon. I'd guess that it was sometime in the 1970's or early 1980's. I'm note sure where she found them, but her decoupage experiments consisted of cutting out poems, quotes and flowers from perhaps greeting cards or small posters and affixing them onto plaques which she then hung on the wall.

As fate would have it, there were two quotes that seem to have foreshadowed events upcoming in my life. There were:

"Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence.
Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent.
Genius will not; un-rewarded genius is almost a proverb.
Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts.
Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent."
~Calvin Coolidge

and

“Life is not a having and a getting,
but a being and a becoming.”
~Matthew Arnold

I actually still have in my possession these two plaques with these quotes on them. If my memory serves me, I think I took them with me when I moved out from my parents house when I started college back in 1983. They tagged along for many moves from apartment to apartment, back home when I was diagnosed with cancer, back out to the apartment life afterward and eventually here to my own home.

Yes, life works in mysterious ways. I may not have had a mother who sat me on her knee to teach me important life lessons, so instead, God made sure these messages came to me as plaques on my wall that I read everyday beginning when I was school aged. The messages were: Be persistent, determined and don't give up. and Life is about being yourself and allowing yourself to be open to personal growth (even if that opportunity for personal growth comes disguised as illness).

As I contemplate this fact, I am amazed that these messages where created by the hands of my mother. It certainly gives me paused as I really comprehend this for the very first time as I write this blog post. It also gives me hope that perhaps God does really exist and that God does find small ways to make a Godly presence known in our daily lives. Realizations like these make me appreciate God more each day.

So, as you can see, these decoupage plaques truly were the best advice I received from my mother. As with many things in my life, the messages were delivered in a very unconventional way. It's a good thing I pay attention and seem to be able to recognize these gifts when they appear in my life!

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Best Day

Image by Dude Crush via Flickr

I realize as I sit here and write this post that I can talk about the subject of "best day" from several different angles. For example:

• I consider Friday to be the best day of the week because it signals the start of the weekend. While I no longer work, my husband does and the weekend translates to two whole days I get to spend every waking moment with him.
• Some of the days I consider to be the best of the year include my birthday, the long days of Summer and all the holidays, especially Thanksgiving Day.
  
• Some of the best and most memorable days of my life so far include: the day I moved out of my parents' house, the day I found out my cancer was in remission, two graduation days from UCLA--for my Bachelors and Master degrees, the day I bought my house, the day I got engaged to Robert, our wedding day, the day I bought my first new car and the day I adopted each of my pets.
• As a cancer survivor, I acknowledge that each and every day I live past my January 13, 1988 diagnosis of leukemia automatically becomes a best day for me.
• A best day with fibromyalgia and chronic illness is a day that I have successfully stayed inside my energy envelope, paced myself, incorporated rest into my daily routine and have not experienced a flare-up of my symptoms.
• If I could wake up one day and no longer have chronic pain, no chronic fatigue and no chronic illnesses ... now that would definitely be the best day ever!
  

100 Words: The Best Thing I Learned From My Mother

Image by gennie catastrophe via Flickr

My mother was always miserable
Because she lived a life that didn't fit her.

Growing up,
I decided I didn't want to live like that.
I wanted something different for myself.

I decided to do the opposite of her
To achieve my yearned for goal.

These are the lessons I learned from my mother:

When I have a choice,
I choose to do exactly what I want to do,
Be it a career, a relationship or an activity.
Yes, when I have a choice,
I choose to be happy.

But best of all,
I've learned I always have a choice.

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100 Words on Things That Fighten & Fascinate Me

Things that frighten me:

1. Big dogs that bark and bite.
2. Going down into the tunnels at UCLA.
3. Being turned upside-down by a carnival ride.
4. Being alone in the house and hearing strange noises.
5. Medical and dental procedures.
6. Earthquakes.
7. Death.

Things that fascinate me:

1. Watching the birds in my backyard.
2. Watching my garden grow.
3. The human body and how it works.
4. Is there other intelligent life in the universe?
5. How things seem to work out for the best most of the time.
6. Life: Why are we here? What is our ultimate purpose?
7. The afterlife: Where do we go from here?

100 Words: Who Am I On the Inside?

I am a well rehearsed symphony of electrical, biological and chemical reactions, coordinated by an organic computer located at the top of my spine and encased in bone.

Some of these processes occur without any conscious thought---automatically, naturally. Others occur with input from the senses - taste, touch, sight, sound and smell - and then a response is automatically generated.

Perhaps the most interesting are my thoughts, feelings and choices. It is through my thoughts, feelings and choices that I measure myself as a human being.

After all, why do I like Brussel sprouts, romance novels and classical music?

25 Random Things, Facts, Habits, or Goals About Me (The Annoying List EVERYONE Hates But We Are All Doing )

1. I can think of the lowest point of my life but I can't think of the highest point, so I am hopeful that it is yet to come. :-)
2. My life (so far) has definitely been quite the rollercoaster ride. That said, I would not trade my life for anyone elses. I am the person I am because of the experiences I have been through.
3. I know that life is not fair and still wish it was.
4. I pray.
5. I will write a best-selling novel.
6. I journal almost every day about 3 things: what I want to be, my mantra for the day and my favorite moment of the day.
7. I daydream about winning the lottery and buy one quick pick ticket for each drawing, because you can't win if you don't play!
8. The Oprah Winfrey Show puts me to sleep.
9. I am addicited to soap operas: One Life to Live and All My Children.
10. The people I miss the most are my Grandma Ann and my Dad (RIP).
11. I have owned 5 cats, 2 dogs and 1 cockatiel so far in my adult life.
12. I miss being able to drink alcohol (none for me since Hep C).
13. When something goes missing, I have to drop everything an search for it (obsessively) until I find it.
14. I love pomegranates. Growing up, my parents had a pomegranate tree and I used to pick the fruits, peel and gather the seeds and freeze them so I could eat pomegranates all year long. I usually finished them all in about a week!
15. I drive an SUV.
16. I can't imagine living anywhere else than Southern California.
17. I live 3 miles away from Venice Beach.
18. I am a risk taker. I also know how to get myself out of a predicament.
19. I am lucky with finding parking and housing.
20. I donate to KCET, my local PBS station. Watching PBS makes me feel smart.
21. I love gadgets! I'd be lost without my: Wii, Palm, Blackberry, laptop, TiVo, Kindle, digital camera, mp3 player, Slacker portable, etc....
22. The whole concept of the universe---infinite, expanding, black holes, supernovas, hot gases, big bang, me being a blip in it---just freaks me out.
23. I need to know where we go when we die, preferrably before it's my turn to go there.
24. I love spending the afternoon in my backyard staring up at the sky and watching the birds, planes and clouds go by.
25. I wish that the people around me could spend a few moments in my shoes, literally.