It has been a couple of months since Grady’s dad fell ill. As anyone who has been through a similar situation can tell you, there is a feeling of helplessness and a silent indicator of stress that creeps into your body’s muscles. For most people, the tenseness is in their neck, back, or shoulders, but not Grady.
Sure, I can’t keep a secret; but that’s usually all in good fun. To be a tattletale is a whole other thing, and something I learned not to do in grade school . That is why I thought long and hard before writing this blog post and concluded it was my duty -a responsibility- to be informative and report to my readers something that could be life threatening. …
Hey all, if you haven’t heard, I got a good PET scan report this week saying, “Stable exam, with no evidence of local recurrent disease within the head and neck, and no findings concerning for FDG metastasis”. In layman’s terms: I AM CANCER FREE!
This week as I pushed through the malaise of my cancer treatments, I heard the words of Amelia Earhart, “The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity.”
There is something so intriguing about being on the edge of the United States. The difference between the Atlantic coast of Florida and the Atlantic coast of Maine is vast and intriguing.
Am I in a time warp? Did I just turn 70 years old in Maine? Reflecting and to name a few undeniable and poignant facts, I do have a 45-year-old daughter, a 78-year-old brother, an 18-year-old granddaughter, and a 90+ year old father-n-law, so I guess it is all true …
This story is not mine, but it is so worth sharing. Not only because it is heartfelt and well written, but also because it is full of hope and could save someone’s life.
It is hard to be a funny person in today’s world, where everyone takes themselves so seriously.
This week, I realized how lucky I am to have an old-school family doctor, whose specialty is helping people.
Our life has changed since adding our new puppy, Coco, to the family. For instance, Grady and I are subjugated to her bodily functions and puppy antics, and we can no longer walk freely around the house; it is a maze of toys and barriers. There are fences and gates everywhere in my home and yard. Coco is not allowed upstairs because, just like any unsupervised baby, she gets into trouble, and she’s not allowed out of the yard for the same reason.
One of the perks of living in Arkansas is our outdoor activities. Within 30 minutes, you can be out of any city limit climbing a mountain, canoeing a stream, hiking a trail, or picnicking in mother nature.
Motherhood is a thankless job but still one I would do over again, if I got the chance. When you are in the throes of child rearing, it feels endlessly tiring; but when it is behind you, you miss it.
This past week, while visiting our Flag and Banner store in Miami, I did something I’ve always wanted to do but have only seen on fishing shows: I took a fan boat ride through the Everglades! Because there are alligators everywhere, and I mean everywhere, we nicknamed the expansive waterway Alligator Alley.
So, what does life look like after the kids leave and the dogs die. At first you think … bliss.…
This Keytruda cancer treatment I’m receiving for the melanoma on my nose is kicking my butt, but I am A-OKAY.
Don’t ask me why, but writing seems to be good for everyone, even for those of us who feel they don’t read or write well. Just the mere exercise of putting your thoughts down on paper is good for one’s mental health and is the reason why, years ago, I started writing my life’s story. At the time, I titled my little autobiography, “Why to Go to College … NOT.”
Unlike the winter of 2021 when Arkansas had a rare 14-inch snowstorm, this past week we had a typical winter accumulation of 4–6 inches.
Besides finding out my melanoma was stage one and confined to only my nose, the second-best Christmas gift I got this year was a new puppy.
Don’t look too closely, unless you’re gross like me and want to. No, that is not a red Christmas decoration in the picture above. It is an amelanotic melanoma that Dr. Chris Shewmake dug out of the tip of my nose. Gross!
Once again, I am fighting the good fight against the skin cancer on my nose. The dang stuff just keeps popping up and the doctors keep scooping out hunks of flesh to send off for biopsy. Thus, I am working a lot from home via email. And once again, I am reminded how important a well written email is for the reader and for efficiency.
