tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84940513612472119712024-02-07T21:17:38.085-08:00Beneath The PetalsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-4387858151264170472014-08-19T15:10:00.000-07:002014-08-19T15:10:19.834-07:003 Days. 60 Miles ... I wanted to share something with the people who have been following my journey on my blog Beneath The Petals.. Today I took a leap of faith and signed up for the 2014 Atlanta 3-day!! Yes, I will be doing 60 miles in three days!! I'm doing this for so many reasons. As a one and a half year survivor I know first hand the importance of early detection and the need for more resources to help in our community. The reason I am still here is because of early detection. My mom is a three time survivor and I walk for her because she can't. I walk for so many lives that have been lost. My friend Tanisha lost her battle this year at 36 years old and leaves behind 2 young children and a husband. We had the same kind of diagnosis... My friend Tara lost her mom last year, ending her life way too soon. More African American women are losing their lives from lack of early detections and late stage diagnosis. You or someone you know has been affected by this disease I like to call the 'Monster'. I ask for your support because you care and you want to help make a change. My goal is to raise $2300. Click the picture below to help me reach my goal. Any amount will help. Your name and amount will be posted as a donation for the cause. I thank you in advance! -Tracy<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://secure3.convio.net/npt/site/Donation2?idb=2115304479&df_id=4660&FR_ID=1860&PROXY_ID=7407922&4660.donation=form1&PROXY_TYPE=20" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Click here to Donate</span></a></td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-77801968433190717292014-06-23T22:17:00.002-07:002014-06-23T22:17:21.994-07:00What Inspires You?I was asked by <a href="http://www.warriorsinpink.ford.com/models-of-courage/model/view/id/20/" target="_blank">Ford Motors</a> "What Inspires Me?" This is the answer I sent them:<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I'm inspired by my children. Their unconditional love and pure spirits are a daily reminder of the miracles we can create... I'm inspired by nature. When I see the sun set and the beautiful rays of sun slowly disappear telling us another day will soon come and I ask myself 'What will I do to make the most of it?'... I'm inspired by people who give without expectation and help others just because they can... I'm inspired by people unafraid to follow their dreams and people who beat the odds. It's exciting to see someone achieve something they work so hard towards even when others did not believe in them... I'm inspired by love. It only exists by faith. It's a misunderstood emotion we have no control over but a true gift from God.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">What Inspires you?</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-432410853764337762014-05-13T08:35:00.001-07:002014-05-13T09:35:19.186-07:00What does FORD have to do with it?The journey continues with Ford Motor Company... they have been in the fight for 20 years!<br />
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<a href="http://www.warriorsinpink.ford.com/models-of-courage/model/view/id/20/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYQIAzaCbwGrDyCPdyEpwGfqqF58XFlPSgYWAOnhpgaukkQdI5tmoHmEWcxXaEVa5ZpEEHQQFL53KzB_psB3xU1cGaWYR49ZqQth1w1PlSjUoGOnBDj2wMz0y_BaWHSZnT0ajd7FMSfjgd/s1600/Ford-TN-MOC.jpg" height="320" width="254" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #2a303e; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14.0pt;">Thank you Ford for choosing me to be one of the 2014 Ford Models
of Courage!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am truly honored to
be among a group of amazing people and we are all connected by a common
thread... We are survivors who have joined the fight in working towards a world
without Breast Cancer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>2014 marks
the twentieth year that Ford Motor Company has been in the fight against breast
cancer. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have dedicated over $125,000,000
to the cause.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please visit the
site <a href="http://www.warriorsinpink.ford.com/models-of-courage"><span style="color: #2e428b; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">http://www.warriorsinpink.ford.com/models-of-courage</span></a>
to read more about these inspiring people. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have an opportunity to join the fight simply by
supporting warriors in pink apparel. 100% of the net proceeds supports 4 breast
cancer charities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You choose the
charity at checkout. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please help
us bring awareness and support the fight! I am proud to stand with these men
and women as a warrior, as a model of courage! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2a303e; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14.0pt;">We were all brought together with one life changing
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<span style="color: #2a303e; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14.0pt;">We laughed.. we cried.. we became friends...</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a303e; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 19px;"><span style="color: #2e428b; text-decoration: none;"><a href="http://www.warriorsinpink.ford.com/models-of-courage">http://www.warriorsinpink.ford.com/models-of-courage</a></span></span><br />
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WHO KNEW THE JOURNEY WOULD BRING ME HERE?</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a303e; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-32166617895983329972014-01-15T05:25:00.000-08:002014-01-15T05:28:16.020-08:00It's Been One Year!!<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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Today is my One Year Anniversary!</div>
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<i>“Having courage does not mean that we are unafraid.</i></div>
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<i><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Having
courage and showing courage mean we face our fears.</i></div>
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<i><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We
are able to say, “I have fallen but I will get up.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-Maya Angelou</i></div>
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This will probably be my shortest post because it is not
easy write how I’m feeling today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I reflect on the last year of my life and it feels like so long
ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything happened so fast
it all seems surreal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It makes me
think of a quote that would not leave my mind throughout the process, “You
don’t know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you
have.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the first time in my
life I realized how strong I am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have been a little emotional the past week realizing it
has been a year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every time I look
up it seems like I am reading some not so great news and I am reminded of how
thankful I am to be here, to have my health, for my wonderful friends and my
family!</div>
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To my All is Well Crew and my list of angels!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love you!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will forever be grateful for you holding my hand through
the storm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are certainly on the
other side of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today, I ask
everyone that reads this post to take a moment to sit in all the things you
have to be thankful for and all the people you are grateful for because you are
still here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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I thank God for being here for these two little girls that I
love more than life itself…</div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-59991443433349043862013-12-31T11:37:00.001-08:002013-12-31T11:37:18.956-08:00Oh What A Year Can Bring <div class="MsoNormal">
<b>“I want to feel my life while I’m in it.” ~Meryl Streep</b></div>
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This time last year, I was dealing with life changing news
that changed the course of my life. I learned so much about friendship and
family. I chose to look at the good that came out of the bad. My friends and I
grew closer. I gained more patience. The quality time with my daughters is
priceless. When stuck in the house and nothing but walls around you, you are
forced to be in the moment and sit in your thoughts. For me, my thoughts
brought out more creative ideas and things I want to accomplish while I’m still
here.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I ask the question: “Are you really living? Or are you
merely existing?” To live is to step outside of your comfort zone. To live is
to follow a dream or take a chance at something in which you believe. When I
read that quote above by Meryl Streep, it made me want to live more…</div>
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Life can be scary, and things will happen for which we just
can’t plan. I’m always reminded that there is always someone experiencing
something much worse than whatever it is that I may be going through. Have you
ever called someone and all they did was go down the list of bad things that is
going on in their life? I call this the ‘black cloud.’ I try to stay away from
the black cloud. Sometimes that can be a habit that is hard for someone to
break. Some people don’t even realize they do it. It is true that a lot of
people are more interested in bad news than they are good news. I hear people
say all the time, “You can’t share everything with everybody.” I will never
understand that one.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m at a point in my life where I realize I have no
complaints. It’s the little blessings in my life that make a smile creep across
my face. I watch my children sleep and thank God for blessing me with them. I
wake up to another day each morning with the ability to do whatever it is that
I choose to do. I’m healthier than I have ever been in my life, and I am
surrounded by positive people who truly love me. I am also realizing my dreams.
I am truly living…<o:p></o:p></div>
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Last week I had a private celebration in my home. I was
celebrating life! It was a year to the date of my diagnosis, and I was in the
midst of launching my own clothing line. “Oh what a year can bring!” was all I
could say. It took me going through this life changing experience to get the
courage to just do it. This is something I have been working on for years. I
wanted to do it when it felt right. Well, it was time, and the response has
been phenomenal. This is only the beginning…<o:p></o:p></div>
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Here’s to a new year, new beginnings, and living life to the
fullest…<o:p></o:p></div>
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Check out Tracy Nicole Clothing now!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/hkPVkUEjVqQ" width="560"></iframe><a href="http://www.tracynicoleclothing.com/" target="_blank">www.tracynicoleclothing.com</a><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-19566455449494144102013-11-03T10:18:00.001-08:002013-11-03T11:11:08.196-08:00My Wish for Awareness the Entire Year...Thursday was the last day of breast cancer awareness month. Throughout October, I was blessed to be a part of some great events and participate in media that focused on raising the awareness of breast cancer. <br />
<br />
Ask Miss A article on Dr. Jackie Walters' 50 Shades of Pink Foundation Luncheon: <br />
<a href="http://askmissa.com/2013/10/25/recap-50-shades-pink-luncheon-dr-jackie-walters/">http://askmissa.com/2013/10/25/recap-50-shades-pink-luncheon-dr-jackie-walters/</a><br />
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Interview with one of my closest friends Rashan Ali and the 94.5 Streetz Morning Show:<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MVl7DSj1n2Y&feature=youtu.be">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MVl7DSj1n2Y&feature=youtu.be</a></div>
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It's my hope that this heightened awareness can continue on throughout the entire year because breast cancer education is essential. Early detection is key. It's my hope that women can be informed and be cognizant of their health. A breast cancer diagnosis is not a death sentence, and if it’s detected early it’s treatable.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-47226178484887256812013-10-22T17:07:00.000-07:002013-10-23T03:57:17.010-07:00Telling My Story...<h3>
On October 13, 2013, I spoke to an audience about my story. The audience was a room filled with women--mostly breast cancer survivors and those with breast cancer--at this year's annual 50 Shades of Pink Luncheon. I was moved by the beautiful spirits that lit up the room. It's both fascinating and incredible how I find myself growing stronger every time I step outside of my comfort zone. </h3>
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<h3>
I have to thank Dr. Jackie Walters for inviting me to be a part of this amazing event. When she asked me to speak, I told her I would let her know. (I was really scared as hell to get up and tell my story). I sucked it up and stopped thinking about my fear. Instead, I chose to focus on the positive. I started thinking about how my experience could touch the lives of others. I thought, "If my story helps inspire one person in this room, then I am serving my purpose." That thought threw fear out of the window as I settled in at the mic. Here are some pictures from that fantastic event.</h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BsPr-xRyQg7XcAaBgOb44rnMUdiBssfoV3z_ODFuhvUepyQ4Pbs0D84qPwG3pqvpjVQTdEFRf_ReoX05nxgBtOGqKyaUaO-UfooFbAVpN8cgvt5vW6fhdynm7sfYEQME3EoAzRUpNgpA/s1600/btp3.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BsPr-xRyQg7XcAaBgOb44rnMUdiBssfoV3z_ODFuhvUepyQ4Pbs0D84qPwG3pqvpjVQTdEFRf_ReoX05nxgBtOGqKyaUaO-UfooFbAVpN8cgvt5vW6fhdynm7sfYEQME3EoAzRUpNgpA/s320/btp3.PNG" width="215" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQPDV9faymcIwQgUS_a-h87C4GHvDfQT4-z-0V7DiJnLkOATfp3rPBWvz5qr09QJaTwEGiieqm1IgJp3l7V0qAzFvQl22TOGpPLtPwKj4aTCALL89vpT_-TYmgn4zuKQa-krgAmVxOQK21/s1600/1375872_661228963910124_1275046696_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQPDV9faymcIwQgUS_a-h87C4GHvDfQT4-z-0V7DiJnLkOATfp3rPBWvz5qr09QJaTwEGiieqm1IgJp3l7V0qAzFvQl22TOGpPLtPwKj4aTCALL89vpT_-TYmgn4zuKQa-krgAmVxOQK21/s320/1375872_661228963910124_1275046696_n.jpg" width="212" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-gbcacat3VAk_4pSxe1N50WDLgzKINQ90A_E0D9Ig-J0KotZQVCjC-GlWWv7Owhudke8rXnH5h1g2OK9KY16_iboBKbsD0gCvjKGs5jpcUYLTbjyw3-F5jZcavv08chgLOHdwtGnybQh4/s1600/photo+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXEOP8BXHnErYCVxGOrbp1PgDb9OEomcA8adL7T7uG4E2mKdfYPBz1cDCUWS1ny6QBT3okW_j2Wy6le-w27l4ubcT3IM1E4CEephvpXTPvm1T3MKALCWjrHMrpkzNxFM2u0nfGvxN_RxgD/s1600/1375872_661228963910124_1275046696_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguceJwFN8fdlDI5pMYICb2T_XbEy3bLkXlERwerp_o8N4kLR3aARu19z74IP5GRMbKJ1hz2yBQZEdLX2EWc0q7Fm05lLI3xuu_Rdir4fOFPJjidXfomRP5wFJFrV4eAjnoytrInX4Q46Zd/s1600/photo+5.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinj_eUsH7s2WDeZXaEG5hLtdGjPlcCNEi8qo0ckObcA3AEReh92V4GSSxOUBAmY2rK6JG1A4ZziBHuvjVR1BbPaQBsRWaU_Lut9BETOIqewBCCD08ONULLi43ci1MEgmwPm_rr30PS0wsh/s1600/1391675_661229037243450_92069149_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span><br />This year has been a roller coaster ride that I've never been on and have no clue of what's coming next. When someone told me 2013 was my year, they weren't kidding. </h3>
<h3>
<br />October is breast cancer awareness month, and the world is talking about something my life has been affected by the last 10 years. My mom is a three-time survivor (yes, she beat cancer's ass three times!). I feel truly blessed to be able to say I am a nine-month survivor and am healthier than I've ever been in my life today! It's important that we understand that early detection is key, and breast cancer is not a death sentence. As my survivor sister Jaquitta Williams would say, "I'm still here!"</h3>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-58224011837757560002013-08-06T20:24:00.000-07:002013-08-06T22:35:20.756-07:00There's No Journey Without Miracles ...<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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“Your life’s journey is about becoming more of who you are.”
~Oprah Winfrey<o:p></o:p></div>
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Like Oprah, I truly believe my entire life is a miracle. There
are so many things that happen in our life that we do not plan but the
important thing that I have come to know is to look at what we go through and be
sure to learn something from it. This traveling the journey is how we come to
know who we are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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A couple of months ago, I got a phone call from Dr. Jackie
Walters (you may know her from the reality show Married to Medicine) detailing her plans for a fabulous gala to launch her non-profit “<a href="http://www.50shadesofpinkfoundation.org/" target="_blank">50 Shades of Pink</a>.” She went on to say that there would be a fashion show and she
wanted me to design the clothes for it. She had a vision that I could truly
feel through the phone. Dr. Jackie said she wanted these clothes to be
comfortable for women who have undergone surgery after breast cancer and that
she was passionate about the models being survivors or connected to a survivor.
We traded stories on how when you look good it makes you feel good. We both
acknowledged what an important role that played in recovery. (I know I wanted
to look cute every time I went to the doctor!) I just felt like, ‘I can’t
control what’s going on in my body but I can control how I look and that made
me feel good!’</div>
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I was both thrilled and honored Dr. Jackie asked me! With my
background as an Occupational Therapist, designing this line would be a perfect
match!! Dr. Jackie told me she didn’t want to just do a fashion show—it was
bigger than that. It had to have purpose, and she knew exactly what she wanted.
Now, I was still recovering myself and had one more procedure to go…but if you
know me then you know I said ‘Of course I will!’ (There were sooooo many moments I felt in over my head, but I didn't stop!) While we were on the phone I
began to sketch, and before I knew it I had 10 designs. With the help of
Beverly Keys, a designer and one of my former interns from Clark Atlanta School
of Fashion, I was able to design and construct every piece on the runway. It
was amazing!! Yes, that was a miracle!! The driving force was the purpose
behind the fashion show. Launching 50 Shades of Pink was <span style="color: #1a1a1a;">a celebration of the inner and outer beauty of breast cancer
patients and survivors. Here's one of my sketches:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a;">The event took place on
Saturday, July 27th at the The Ballroom at Carlos Center in Atlanta. Dr. Jackie
gave a remarkable, touching and honest presentation. To watch a woman beat
breast cancer twice and give back so much was not only inspiring, it motivated
me to want to give more of myself. The event was a true success. They raised
over $100,000 with plans to help so many women. I was honored to have been a
part of it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a;">This experience allowed me to
meet some really wonderful women who graciously wore my clothing on the runway.
Each had her own unique story of survival, and it was an awesome experience to
become a meaningful piece of their journeys.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a;">It was a surreal moment as I
watched these models on the runway. I was struck by the beauty of the women in
the clothes—my clothes. Even more so, I was moved by the magnificence of how my
story, my journey, has so beautifully come full circle. Not only was it a dream
come true but the road traveled to get to that moment was nothing short of a
miracle…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a;">For more information on ‘50
Shades of Pink Foundation’ go to <a href="http://www.50shadesofpinkfoundation.org/">http://www.50shadesofpinkfoundation.org</a></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-36166123236255032332013-07-07T13:55:00.000-07:002013-07-07T13:55:24.714-07:00Jumping Back In ...
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<span style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14.0pt;"><i>“It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not
stop.” <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #131313; font-size: 14.0pt;"><i>―</i></span><span style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14.0pt;"><i> <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15321.Confucius"><span style="color: #535600; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Confucius</span></a><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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Last week, I received a phone call from my mother. “Tracy,
you didn’t finish!” were the first words she said. “Finish what?” I said, a
little confused. She said “You didn’t finish telling your story. People are
waiting to hear the rest. You didn’t even get to the surgery yet.” Immediately
I felt nervous. She was right. I didn’t finish. I had to stop and think about
why I slowed down with the story. I know that at times I questioned whether
people really wanted to hear more. But the real truth is I was having a
difficult time writing about my journey—especially the part of it where I had
left off. I didn’t realize how traumatic the experience had actually been, and
writing about it was bringing out all of those emotions. I’m not an emotional
person, so this was uncomfortable for me. As a result, I just pulled back a little
bit and didn’t realize it. </div>
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My mom’s phone call helped me to recognize that I have not
written about the hardest turn of events that occurred (probably on purpose).
The comments, feedback and encouragement about this blog have helped
tremendously. I guess the best thing to do is to jump back in and keep moving
forward…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have the best people in
the world in my corner!!! So here goes:</div>
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The day of the surgery, my sister drove me to the hospital. I
know she sent messages to all of my friends, but, to this day, I have no idea
what the messages said. All I remember is getting sedated and then waking up.
My surgery lasted 4 ½ hours. I had assumed that when I woke up I would be all
bandaged up. I wasn’t. I was however definitely heavily medicated! I woke up, looked
down inside my hospital gown, saw these perky breasts and I yelled out, “Did
you do the surgery?” No one responded, so and I yelled again. “Hey! Did you do
the surgery? Did you get all the cancer out?” (Yes, I really yelled that! I
guess I need reassurance that it was removed. When they initially told me about
the cancer and its location, I kept thinking I could feel it and that it was
going to move somewhere. The cancer was messing with my head so much I couldn’t
wait to get it out!) </div>
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A nurse came over to comfort me and said, “Yes, your surgery
went well. You are in recovery until you completely wake up from the
anesthesia.” I think I dozed back off because the next thing I remember was
being wheeled into a room filled with flowers and cards. Everything seemed so
surreal. I don’t really like hospitals or sitting still, so I knew this was not
going to be easy. The best thing I remember was not being in any pain. I was on
pain medication that was connected to my IV, and all I had to do was push a
button to administer it anytime I felt uncomfortable. The staff really took care
of me at Northside Hospital. The nurses were the best. These were some strong
meds that kept me extremely comfortable!! I emphasize this because everyone
that came to visit would look at me like I was suffering, and actually I was
really comfortable. The surgery was the easy part (if there was an easy part).
It was the next step, the recovery, that was definitely the hard part…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(to be continued)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-19703543128657438552013-06-23T14:57:00.000-07:002013-06-23T17:46:50.999-07:00Guest Blog Series - A Test of Sisterhood<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
A close friend of mine unexpectedly
lost her twin sister due to complications from cancer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked her to be a guest blogger
today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please read her journey
below.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
A Test of Sisterhood - By Courtney Waller</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
watched in awe as Kim ordered a second pouring of the $11 glass of white wine.
I rarely spent more than $10 on a whole bottle. She was in town for her annual
Christmas visit. This was our one chance to go out alone. <i>‘Is this how
cancer survivors live?,’</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> I remember
thinking. Kim ordered the meal and drinks that she wanted that night. She had
decided to put her MFA in Creative Writing to great use and write a novel. I
was honored when she suggested we do the project together. In April, Kim, our
parents, my husband and our two children were planning to go to Disney World
for a family vacation/celebration. We were also making our plans to visit the
Dominican Republic together, just the two of us.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kim
celebrated the conclusion of her radiation treatment a few months earlier with
friends in an all-inclusive Miami resort. I was invited but did not go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How could I take time off work that
time of year?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How would I pay for
the flight from Atlanta to Miami?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We could always have our own celebration later. Kim had survived
Hodgkins Lymphoma. We had time—at least that’s what we thought…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A
month after our night on the town, Kim called our home to ask my husband
Jacquay for iPhone advice. We joked about the “real” reason she called: to wish
our son a happy third birthday. Somehow, Kim had managed to send the gift on
time but hadn’t remembered the correct day to call. No one could talk to Kim
McCoy without responding to her contagious and genuine laughter. That night was
the last time I’d ever hear my twin sister’s voice.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>At
3:19AM, the following day, I found myself staring at the large red numbers on
the alarm clock, unable to sleep. Two hours later, our father called to let me
know that Kim was in a Florida Emergency Room with pneumonia. Unexpected calls
from my parents still make me nervous. By the end of that day, my parents,
husband, his mother, several of Kim’s friends and I had made their way to the
hospital at various times throughout the day by plane and by car. My children
were now in the care of my father-in-law. My mother-in-law wanted to stay with
us longer, but was needed to help with the children. As a nurse who specializes
in treating cancer patients, she was able to help my parents decipher the
medical talk and what we could expect next. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Kim’s ex-husband
visited the next day. I tried to warn him of Kim’s condition over the phone.
However, the sight of her attached to machines and unable to breathe on her own
forced him to stumble backwards. That was also the day that a nurse informed me
that Kim had coded around 3:00 AM Saturday morning—the same moment I was
suddenly awakened and unable to sleep. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
On February 1,
2012, my twin sister Kim passed away peacefully in the hospital. I held her
right hand. Mommy held her left while Daddy stood close by with my husband at
her feet. Her illness was the result of a rare infection related to her cancer
treatment. We were both thirty-three, just a few months shy of our next
birthday and now a lifetime away from all of our plans.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
To this day, Kim
is always on my mind. Dealing with the pain of losing her is a continuous part
of my life now. I struggle not to dwell on how unfair this all seems. Yet,
tears cloud my vision as I write this post. I am thankful for the thirty-three
years we had together. At times, the memories of peace and her joy that I felt
visiting her in the hospital confuse me. I know she waited for us to get there.
I know she waited for me. We began our lives together as tiny cells in our
mother’s womb, invisible and undetectable. Even now our bond may be invisible
to others, but it is so very real and tangible to me. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijBfd1xZ4TEJFJ5hqz4zcbnmoGZ990auJb1zm0Y5UbNMvLF9ljZ-n7q9sjBaooTO2JQMWsMHHmL2gfUHX4exjh-a0Q6UW2iGaI36uKXUBFrhl1iy-sI9jr1fDHk-jfdUY_ngSc-5CpZOVy/s1600/Kim+and+Court+Dec+2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijBfd1xZ4TEJFJ5hqz4zcbnmoGZ990auJb1zm0Y5UbNMvLF9ljZ-n7q9sjBaooTO2JQMWsMHHmL2gfUHX4exjh-a0Q6UW2iGaI36uKXUBFrhl1iy-sI9jr1fDHk-jfdUY_ngSc-5CpZOVy/s320/Kim+and+Court+Dec+2011.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Courtney and Kim</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-33184534039158677482013-06-14T20:30:00.000-07:002013-06-14T20:30:21.433-07:00Just For The Fathers ...
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #0e0e0e;"><i>“I cannot think of any need
in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #0e0e0e;">~ </span><span style="color: #0e0e0e; font-family: Geneva;"><a href="http://boardofwisdom.com/togo/?viewid=1010&search=Sigmund+Freud"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Sigmund Freud</span></a></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Someone recently said to me: “All Dads are good. Some just
never learned to be a man.” I found this simple statement so impactful—and upon
reflection, so true. It can be interpreted in many ways. This made me think of
my biological father and his inability to be there for his children. There are
many things that happened in his life that contributed to his absence. As an
adult, I can now understand and accept that he was a good person but just never
learned to be a man…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With Father’s Day fast approaching, thoughts of strong men
from my life run through my mind. My grandfather comes to mind first. Affectionately
called D.L. by his peers, he was known to be a very wise man. As I was growing
up, he stressed the importance of living by “The Golden Rule” long before I
even understood what this meant or entailed. It took many years for me to grasp
the true meaning, but I can remember his voice saying it like it was yesterday.
“Always treat people the way you would want them to treat you.” I would call my
granddaddy everyday as a child and read to him. He would listen to every word.
He would also let me read as many books as I wanted to him each time I called.
(Really, I could read 20 books, and that amazing man would still be on the
other end of the phone listening!!) My granddaddy told me I was special and
would say, “You’re going to make it happen!” I would light up each and every
time I heard those words. They still ring in my ears today, and it boosts my
confidence whenever there is doubt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He is truly missed…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #0e0e0e;"><i>“The greatest thing a
FATHER can do to his children, is to love their mother.”</i></span><span style="color: #0e0e0e;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #0e0e0e;">~ Anjaneth Garcia Untalan</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My dad, the man that raised my sister and me as his own, was
truly heaven-sent. Witnessing the way he has loved my mother has truly been a gift.
He has been by her side through everything and has never missed a beat. The
lessons he taught me helped mold me into the woman I am today. My dad had four
girls and wanted to make sure that his daughters were independent. He was a
true entrepreneur and not afraid to take risks. He can certainly take the
credit for how hard I work at being a serious business woman…also unafraid to
take risks. Life is way too short! He’s the best PaPa my daughters could ever
have. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This Father’s Day I want you to reflect on the many men that
are present and enhancing the lives of others. Today let’s celebrate the
fathers, grandfathers, uncles, brothers and godfathers. We love you and we need
you!! Happy Father’s Day!</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-22188476931064476572013-06-03T06:50:00.000-07:002013-06-03T06:50:25.314-07:00Over 5500 Views!... Thank You!
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
My friend Courtney sent me a quote the other day:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud
was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”</i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Anias Nin</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It moved me…It got me thinking about the many conversations
and emails I’ve had over the past few months—the numerous calls saying, “I
followed up on my mammogram appointment because I talked to you.” Or “I can’t
believe you are sharing this. I went through the same thing, but I didn’t share
it with people I don’t know.” And “I’m so proud of you. You are inspiring.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I recently realized that I have stood in my own way when it comes to accomplishing the goals I set out to accomplish. (How many people can relate to that?) A lot of times when we do something that is effortless to us we don't think of it as a talent. It usually takes a lot of feedback from others to build up our self-confidence enough to believe we can make big things happen. I believe that, in any situation, your attitude about it is
everything. Throughout this entire journey, it was extremely important for me
to keep constructive, encouraging people and positive energy around me. Just
the thought of helping someone else through my words is touching. Life is about
taking risks and stepping out on faith. I believe that now more than ever ...<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At one point, someone asked me, “Weren’t you afraid of what
people might think?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It wasn't just the question. It was paired with a look of "I can't believe you are doing this."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, if I went through life making decisions based on what
others think, I would be crazy. When faced with the difficult decision such as
the one I had to make, there would have been so much more at risk if I had
chosen to do nothing. Then after going through all of this, I found myself in a
place where I felt like this experience has to have a purpose. (It was a powerful feeling that wouldn't go away.) I couldn’t just
go through all of this and then simply move forward like nothing had happened.
It’s still a vulnerable and personal decision to share my story, but sharing for
me right now has a purpose. It helps me heal and strengthens my spirit. I am
reminded everyday by the positive feedback and comments (most of which I
receive privately) about this blog and my journey. It's a great feeling to have had over 5500 views already! To everyone who has taken
the time to not only read this blog but also to respond with words of support,
I would like to say thank you. Your messages motivate me and encourage me to
continue. I know that I am forever changed by this experience…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I would love to know about an experience that happened in
your life that forever changed you! Please see this blog as a platform of
sharing, inspiration and healing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(to be continued…)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-74548768126742770252013-05-24T10:13:00.002-07:002013-05-24T10:13:42.941-07:00Unexpected Angels…
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<br />
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<i>When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving
in you, a joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~Rumi</i></div>
<div class="normal">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal">
This journey has had plenty of unexpected moments and places
from where strength and courage had to be pulled. One of the most unexpected
surprises was a phone call I got from a friend (we will call him 2Trillion!)
who told me he was taking a trip to Texas to visit Joel Osteen’s church. Pretty
much everyone is familiar with Joel Osteen and his family ministry. I told him
to let me know how it goes and to have a great trip. I wished I could have
gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not only did he go there and
visit the church, he had the opportunity to talk to Dodie Osteen (Joel Osteen’s
Mother) about me. He said he told her all about me. Dodie Osteen is known for
her ministry of love and compassion. She is also a cancer survivor and has the
most powerful testimony I have ever read. She wrote a book called ‘Healed of
Cancer.’ I was truly honored when she gifted me her book complete with a
personal inscription inside. I have read this book at least five times already,
and I carry it with me everywhere I go. The messages in the book are so
powerful. I believe the spirit and the mind have a lot to do with our physical
state, and this book helped me get my spirit and my mind right! If I ever got
the opportunity, I would love to thank her in person. I would love to express
to her how that book she so kindly gave me played such an integral role in my
healing process.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWsxBphZtG88Z7mK54f-jXtk6P_yMMTbgm5V-ysylwf2aXMRnsBNGMP_iYOmJPdG2RN_DthlktY_96OJFodyj7bMeI67RZcgJ7aCCiGl8hVhHR3Rzf6bClx8q_4WWJOfzFVlvMIhbstZSR/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWsxBphZtG88Z7mK54f-jXtk6P_yMMTbgm5V-ysylwf2aXMRnsBNGMP_iYOmJPdG2RN_DthlktY_96OJFodyj7bMeI67RZcgJ7aCCiGl8hVhHR3Rzf6bClx8q_4WWJOfzFVlvMIhbstZSR/s320/photo+2.JPG" width="221" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX2OTekxvFpQbIn7JW7d7ZEqQm6eLkfBQeqBKVwue8kvv0nDMlWCLkOk8hs-U1WSvmrYUIQmhZfsJGu5d09WdryC4ONfUX7dW43oRyx767wao_xiQdBmqWfvEop3143W5i_YOkqg3QDm64/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX2OTekxvFpQbIn7JW7d7ZEqQm6eLkfBQeqBKVwue8kvv0nDMlWCLkOk8hs-U1WSvmrYUIQmhZfsJGu5d09WdryC4ONfUX7dW43oRyx767wao_xiQdBmqWfvEop3143W5i_YOkqg3QDm64/s320/photo+1.JPG" width="233" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="normal">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal">
Another unexpected angel in my journey was Dr. Jaqueline
Walters--many of you may know her from the show ‘Married to Medicine.’ A
two-time cancer survivor, she was someone I connected with last year through a
mutual friend because I knew she had the same surgery. I had met and spoken
with her a few times over the past couple of years, but I didn’t know her very
well. That quickly changed. Our first of many phone calls lasted for an hour.
She helped me mentally prepare by telling me things I should get ready for that
she knew from having gone through the same procedure herself. A lot of people
say, “I’m here if you need me.” Or “Call me anytime.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When Jackie said it, she really meant it. Every time I had a
question or concern, she was right there when I reached out. Before going to
the hospital, she told me all the things I needed to make sure I had. The day
of my surgery she showed up with a big box. She said it was just a gift. (Who
doesn’t love getting<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>gifts!) I
opened the box and it was filled with pairs of beautiful pajamas ranging from
casual to cute and sexy. She said, “All the pajamas button up because you won’t
be able to put anything over your head for a while.” I was speechless. The
action was so thoughtful. Of course I had not thought of that. It meant so much
that she cared enough to do that for me. She knew that only someone who had
gone through this would know things like that. When the pain and muscle spasms
got unbearable, it was Jackie that I could text at 2am and she would hit me
right back with some encouraging statement. She always knew just what to say
because she had been there not that long ago. I would shake it off and get my
mind right. Jackie also came out to my house to visit me while I was recovering.
Unexpectedly, she had another gift in hand. She brought me the softest blankets
and booties that you heat in the microwave. They smelled like
lavender -- soothing and beautiful. Talk about feeling good! I am thankful for
her and her kindness. There are still people in the world that just do because
they care about helping others. This connection was only the beginning. Now, I
am preparing to help Jackie with her non-profit for breast cancer called ‘Fifty
Shades of Pink.’ Don’t worry, you will hear a lot more about that real soon!</div>
<div class="normal">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal">
There are so many great things that came out of this bad
situation… (to be continued)</div>
<div class="normal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-71180650887050326712013-05-15T05:52:00.000-07:002013-05-15T05:52:02.974-07:00My Mom Saved My Life …
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiskBGJgvC2kI58GNHOrrixWPwQRE6gWQf23Nm4XZ7PqbjuGdSUz8qFovoddK7plHn6IzK17xYu-EvNwO2aCMKa6lnRWwPM7zduLNBjLG6y_mCvreCuzvONDN1ro29JNR6WQhaFpK_otJbX/s1600/Me+and+Mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiskBGJgvC2kI58GNHOrrixWPwQRE6gWQf23Nm4XZ7PqbjuGdSUz8qFovoddK7plHn6IzK17xYu-EvNwO2aCMKa6lnRWwPM7zduLNBjLG6y_mCvreCuzvONDN1ro29JNR6WQhaFpK_otJbX/s320/Me+and+Mom.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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“When you are a mother you are never really alone in your
thoughts. You are connected to your child and to all those who touch your
lives. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her
child.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Sophia Loren</div>
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<br /></div>
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I have always thought of my mom as my hero. She is the
strongest woman I know. I have never witnessed a woman overcome so many
obstacles and handle life with such grace. She instilled the most valuable life
lessons. She is the ultimate survivor!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My mom has always played the hand she was dealt (no matter how crappy it
was) without complaining. Her beautiful spirit is unforgettable, and her smile
is sure to light up any room. Growing up we didn’t have much, but I never felt
like I missed having anything. Her caring, comfort and compassion were much
more filling than any material things would have been.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She taught me the importance of being
independent and how to be responsible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I grew up fearless believing I can do anything…</div>
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<br /></div>
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I put off writing this particular post because it is very
difficult to share this part of my journey. One week before my surgery, I had
to face the most difficult task—telling my mom about my diagnosis. I had
avoided it for as long as I could. This was the third attempt at telling her,
and I knew it was time to follow through. I knew she would take it hard, and I
knew I had to be strong. I found myself worrying more about how my mother was
going to handle it than worrying about my surgery. I visit my parents often so
my coming over was not unusual. It was before I was getting ready to leave that
I announced that I needed to talk to them. I turned the television off and then
turned to face my mom and dad. My dad says, “What? You’re not about to say
you’re pregnant are you?” We all laughed. He certainly broke the ice. I stayed
strong and turned off my emotional side. I just said what I had to say head on.
I told them I was diagnosed with breast cancer and it was going to be okay. My
mother immediately broke down. There was no consoling her. Her youngest
daughter had just told her the news she dreaded the most.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All I could say was it was going to be
okay and it really was going to be okay!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She kept saying that was all she prayed for was her children to be
spared from the disease she had battled twice in the past nine years. It took a
while, but after convincing my mom to listen I explained to her that I had been
going to the doctor and that my surgery was set for the following week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told her every detail. I know you may
be wondering why I waited to tell Mom. I didn’t want her to worry about the
decision I had to make or to fret about the details. I know, from being a
mother myself, you always want to make everything better for your children from
the moment they are born. I didn’t want to put a burden on her knowing there
was nothing she could do to make it better. I feel like she felt as if there
were something she could have done to protect me from this ‘monster’ that had
chosen to invade my body. When my mom pulled herself together, she gave me a
look of amazement and said, “You are so strong. I can’t believe how strong you
are.” To that I simply replied, “I got it from you.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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I told my Mom that she had to look at it as if she saved my
life. It’s the truth. Had she not gotten breast cancer the second time, I would
have never thought about getting a mammogram when I did. My mom spoke with a
friend that echoed this very thing. She told her, “I had to go through it a
second time to save my baby.” She told me that was when she realized that her
prayers had been answered. And I agree they were…</div>
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<br /></div>
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Throughout this journey, I got support from some of the most
unexpected places that you would not believe…</div>
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(to be continued) </div>
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<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-16962596085763131982013-05-09T18:53:00.000-07:002013-05-09T18:53:58.605-07:00Mom and The Polka-Dot Boo-Boo
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Telling the Kids ...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGg9-vwh0fmV2uDYGFtWdC8qstTO02tFx5JS20KSKYjQif0ZiTDUptdusMYgrx3nLAzDWWRdEbf6BXQqLmmJk2H1RyzZUfmER5S7_57uHF5MxcIRH8cy76TbIg0l3lwF_nJ2jQZq4BxnMx/s1600/prather+girls+01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGg9-vwh0fmV2uDYGFtWdC8qstTO02tFx5JS20KSKYjQif0ZiTDUptdusMYgrx3nLAzDWWRdEbf6BXQqLmmJk2H1RyzZUfmER5S7_57uHF5MxcIRH8cy76TbIg0l3lwF_nJ2jQZq4BxnMx/s320/prather+girls+01.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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With Mother’s Day fast approaching, I will start by saying
that everyday is Mother’s Day to me. I wake up each morning to the best two
gifts I’ve ever gotten!! Not a day goes by where I don’t thank God for my
babies. (They are actually still at the age where they don’t mind me calling
them my babies.) They were both so strong throughout this entire
ordeal. I found myself struggling before my surgery with: “How am I going to
tell my babies about all of this? They look to me for everything. They will be
here and they need to know what is happening…” I believe in telling children
the truth. (They are always smarter than we think.) How do you explain breast
cancer to a child?</div>
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<br /></div>
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This was a struggle I put off for as long as I could. I
had spoken with both of my children’s teachers about what was going on, and one
of them suggested we go to the library and look for a book to help explain. I
was all for it. She told me that she had unfortunately dealt with this issue
several times in her classes over the years. We went to the school library and
got on the computer. As we scrolled the screen I thought, “Note to self: There
are not many books out that explain cancer on a child’s level.” Then one jumped
out at me--one of the merely two we found. It was called “Mom and The Polka-Dot
Boo-Boo.” I knew right then that it was perfect without even reading it. I
couldn’t wait to tell my Mom about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When I did, she was so excited that she jumped right on the computer to
order it.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The girls and I sat down with the book together and read.
“<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mom-Polka-Dot-Boo-Boo-Eileen-Sutherland/dp/0944235875/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1368149577&sr=8-1&keywords=mom+and+the+polka-dot+boo-boo" target="_blank">Mom and The Polka-Dot Boo-Boo</a>” is a gentle story explaining breast cancer through rhyming text to a young
child. It includes things that may come along such as loss of energy and hair
but emphasizes there is never a loss of love… It’s written by a Mom (Eileen
Sutherland) and illustrated by her young daughter (Maggie Sutherland). My
daughters loved the child-drawn pictures. This book helped by making such a
difficult step easier for me.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The book starts off like this:</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>I have some news to share with you, to help you
understand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have a boo-boo in my
breast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is called cancer, and…<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>It’s like a polka dot that neither you nor I can
see.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s settled in behind my
skin and we need to set it free...<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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They were not scared learning of this, and I reassured them
everything would be okay. (That’s always the strong thing to say.) I think it
helps that I always believe it when I say it. They understood things so well and
asked tons of questions. The book even helped them understand what they had
seen my mom experience during her battle with cancer.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Although there were some nights of crying and a few episodes
of getting scared, I was happy that my babies were not afraid to talk to me. I
reassured them by saying, “Look, Mommy is going to be okay! And guess what? You
get to brag that your Mommy is a survivor! Did you know that?” Sometimes it was
hard trying to turn their tears to smiles without crying myself. They always
see me being so strong (something I picked up from my Mom), and I thought it was important to let them know that
it’s okay to get scared and it’s okay to cry. (I still have to remind myself
that.) I had to explain to them that I wouldn’t be able to do a lot of things
for a little while. I was on a lot of meds and was in bed most of the time. I couldn’t raise my arms or pick anything up for weeks
after the surgery. My youngest had a hard time getting used to me not being
able to pick her up. (Yes, I still pick my seven-year-old baby up!) LOL! They
even learned how to hug my arm and be very gentle when they touched me. They
were so strong. I am so proud of them. My babies!!</div>
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<br /></div>
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I have a lot of love and respect for Moms, especially single
Moms like myself. The day-in and day-out never ends, but you wouldn’t change it
for the world—because it’s all worth every minute.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Now the hardest part of it all … I had to tell my Mom …</div>
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<br /></div>
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(to be continued…)</div>
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<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-69983317346719616292013-05-05T17:35:00.000-07:002013-05-05T18:38:11.658-07:00Inspiring Journeys – Featured Blog Series<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 17px;">When
this journey began, I started looking for stories of other survivors to read. I
wanted to know what someone else’s journey looked like in her own words—from
her own unique perspective. It led me to several articles and blogs. (At this
time, I had not thought about starting a blog or even sharing my journey. It
still felt like such a private experience to me.) I read story after story.
Some I couldn’t read because it was just too painful. I was thinking, “Where are
the good ones—the ones with the happy endings and the celebration trips at the
end?” I wanted to read something that could lift me up. I was seeking stories
that would give me inspiration through showing strength and courage. I needed
to know how people were sharing this emotional experience that’s so hard to
understand and accept. Then I came across one blog which was simply
unforgettable. It’s called Cancer In My Thirties </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 17px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><a href="http://cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com/">http://cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com/</a></span><!--EndFragment--> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 17px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;">When I clicked on her 'About Me' section, it read: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;"><i>“At 33 I was told that the
lumps in my breast were probably nothing. So I did nothing, believing I was
‘too young for breast cancer’.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;"><i>Shortly after my 34<sup>th</sup>
birthday – and now no health insurance – I discovered that Cancer didn’t care
how old I was. On my twin kindergartners’ birthdays, the Diagnosis of Her2
positive Stage 3C breast cancer rocked my foundation and changed my world in an
instant…”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;">Okay, I have to be honest and
say I was afraid to read anymore because this brought tears to my eyes. I soon
learned this woman’s story was just what I needed to read at that time. Her
spirit and her attitude still take my breath away. I wanted to hug her through
the screen for being so open and honest and most of all—brave. Not only did I
read more, I signed up to follow her blog. As a writer I enjoy being moved by
words. I love the way she is unafraid to venture out with other topics and just
write about what is on her mind and in her heart. The images of her adorable
and innocent twin boys stay in the back of my mind still today.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;">Her post that really made me think was <a href="http://cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com/2013/04/14/daily-post-the-satisfaction-of-a-list-things-im-afraid-i-wont-get-to-do-before-i-die/" target="_blank">‘Things I Don’t Think I’ll Get To Do Before I Die’</a> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;">(I know… I had to
read the title a couple of times myself.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 17px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;">Her post was light-hearted,
honest, and most of all it reminded me that it’s the little moments and small things in
life (often taken for granted) that really matter the most.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;">This post was a reality
check. It made me stop and contemplate, “What would be on my list?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;">One thing I vividly remember
my grandfather saying was, “Never put off tomorrow what you can do today.
Tomorrow is promised to no one.” I miss that wise man. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;">It really made me think, “Do
your days have to be numbered for you to live like it? and Why not choose to live
each day to the fullest?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;">So I ask you…<b><i>What would
be on your list?<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;">I want to thank <a href="http://cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Cancer In My Thirties</a> for allowing me to feature her blog as the first one that truly inspired me!
Please check it out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;">See her list below:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;"><b><i><s>20</s> 45 Things I’m Afraid I Won’t Get to Do Before I
Die:</i></b></span><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">1.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Watch my kids go off to Fourth Grade<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">2.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Put my toes in the ocean again<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">3.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Dance with my sons at their weddings in 15 years or so<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">4.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Have my overdue eye exam — and get stylish new glasses<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">5.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Hold a new baby<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">6.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Be my youngest sister’s matron of honor (she’s 20)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">7.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Get a new puppy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">8.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Hold my grandchildren<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">9.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Finish the next season of <i>The Living Dead</i></span><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">10.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">See Mumford & Sons in concert<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">11.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Have the option to opt out of going to my 10-year college
reunion (because I don’t feel like going, not because I’m dead)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">12.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Visit my family’s homeland (England/Scotland)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">13.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Celebrate my sons’ 10th birthdays<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">14.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Publish my novel<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">15.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Finish writing said novel<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">16.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Publish a children’s book<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">17.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Use my teaching degree<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">18.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">See some of my dearest friends again — jme, Jin, Loren, Sue,
Sheri, Gil<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">19.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Make it to another winter (and I hate winter)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">20.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Watch my children graduate from (and start!) high school<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">21.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">See the love of my life again<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">22.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Experience what it’s like to have hormones again (or go a day
without being hot and drenched from night/day sweats one minute and then
shivering cold the next)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">23.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Shed tears as I pack my kids up for college<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">24.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Shed tears as I wave my kids off to middle school<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">25.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">See my mother happy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">26.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Get divorced<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">27.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Be with someone who truly cares for me & who will miss me
when I’m gone<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">28.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Listen to a lot more music<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">29.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Learn to play piano<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">30.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Live a day where money doesn’t keep me from doing the things I
want to do for my kids<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">31.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Travel more<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">32.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Start a new job<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">33.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Hear that there is a cure/vaccine for cancer<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">34.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Show my kids the world<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">35.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Fall asleep snuggled next to my kids and my dogs more<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">36.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Experience a pain-free day<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">37.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Remember what it’s like to have energy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">38.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">To stress out about doing next year’s taxes<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">39.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Turn 40<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">40.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Turn 50<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">41.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Turn 60<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">42.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Turn 70<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">43.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">Grow old<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">44.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">To let go of everything that is holding me back…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 11.0pt list 27.0pt left .5in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">45.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt;">To say that I truly lived — and mean it…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-66946603676230234512013-04-30T19:22:00.000-07:002013-04-30T19:22:27.915-07:00All Is Well! ...
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial;"><i><span style="background: white;">“A friend is one that knows you as you are,
understands where you have been, accepts what you have become, and still,
gently allows you to grow.” ~William Shakespeare</span><br />
<br />
</i></span><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial;">Growing
up living by 'The Golden Rule' that my grandfather instilled in me when I was
three years old, I’ve always looked for the best in people and also have always
been very forgiving. However, thinking people would treat me as I treated them
left me open to a lot of hurt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial;">When the people in your life that are supposed to be there to take care
of you—the ones that you trust to have your back and hold you down—drop the
ball and disappoint you multiple times throughout your life, you come to expect
everyone to let you down. Disappointment becomes routine. For the most part,
that has been true all of my life. Trusting someone will be there when I really
need them has always been a struggle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial;">When I got my diagnosis, I was told to “get ready to find out who your
true friends are.” I was somewhat prepared but still surprised at and hurt by
the people that were nowhere to be found, even after I reached out. Ouch! It
really did hurt...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial;">On the flip side, I learned that the friends who were there are the most
<i>amazing</i></span><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial;"> friends on the planet! <i>(I mean amazing!!)</i></span><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial;"> Not just because they
stand by my side but because they actually accept me for who I am. They don't
judge me, and they give without expectation. They do all of this without
thinking about it, because that's what true friends do. My friends know that
when I walk into a room full of people I get quiet because I'm very cautious.
They know I'm just taking in my environment. My friends know I try to do
everything and sometimes I may go a little harder than I should without asking
for help even though I need it. They understand that I put pressure on myself,
and I often feel like everything falls on me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial;">Days before my surgery, I sat down at our regular monthly brunch with my
girlfriends. I knew I couldn't do this alone. I had accepted this as fact. I
looked at the same faces that I have seen for the past 15 to 20 years. We have
had our ups and downs. We have weathered storms. We have celebrated good times
and have been there for each other in bad. None of us are perfect, but we are
there for each other. Even as I write this, words can't explain the amount of
love I have for these women who are not just my friends. They are my sisters
and my angels. I looked them in their eyes<i>—</i></span><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial;">they know how strong I
am (and I don't like to cry!). I said, "I don't want any tears!" I
didn't want a pity party. As I explained my situation, I watched my friends
look at me with glassy eyes fighting back the urge to cry because that was what
I said I wanted. I said, "I am scared and I need you all. I choose to walk
in faith. I choose to be strong, and I choose to win. If anyone asks you how
I'm doing you tell them 'All is well!'” The looks in their eyes told me they
were proud. (I knew my announcement was a lot to take in). I allowed the weight
I was carrying to be lifted. It felt as if each of my angels each took a piece
to carry. They all sent me a message without words that said, "Don't
worry! We got you!" We hugged and smiled, and it was done. I felt light as
if God were answering prayers as we sat and continued on with brunch. In two
days, my friends (headed by the best project manager in the world!!) set up a
schedule to make sure someone was at my home to help me morning, noon and
night. They helped with laundry, the kids, cleaning the house and doing the
dishes. There's always the friend who steps up and says, “Sit down! We got
this!” They just showed up and did what had to be done. It was such a blessing.
They knew what I needed without even asking. My dear friend who told me,
"The fake friends won't show up!," put together a <a href="http://www.mealtrain.com/" target="_blank">meal train</a> which
had a calendar for people to sign up to bring me breakfast, lunch and dinner. My
children stayed on their schedule and had everything they needed. All I had to
do was recover. (This is still hard to talk about because my friends were there
every step of the way. They never missed a beat.) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="" name="_GoBack"></a><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial;">My amazing friends are the reason my recovery
went so well. They are the reason I look at life so differently now. They are
my true friends, and I love them dearly. My mom always says, “Now those are
your friends!” I don't use the term ‘friend’ loosely (anymore). They keep telling
me to stop thanking them because they said I would do the same for them, and
they are right...I love you guys so much!!</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">“All is Well!” </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial;">(to be
continued…)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-23193098197981882472013-04-24T04:29:00.001-07:002013-04-24T04:29:40.352-07:00There Is A ‘Perk’ After All!!
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The time came to face the music. I recall reading an
interview of a friend who is also a survivor. She said she went home and had a
pity party after being given her cancer diagnosis. When no one showed up for
the party, she had to get up and face reality. My friend decided to make
lemonade out of lemons. Personally, I am no fan of pity parties; I do, however,
happen to love lemonade. I was not nervous on the way to the appointment. It
always helps when someone who cares about you calls at the right time and gives
some encouraging words. My friend’s positive words gave me strength. I found
myself feeling ready for whatever ‘He’ had in store for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I walked into the plastic surgeon’s office, and it looked
amazing. From the one-of-a-kind art pieces on the wall to the high-end lingerie
store in the waiting area. It felt like an office right out of Beverly Hills.
It didn’t feel like I was at the doctor. (That certainly helped!) The furniture
was beautiful. It appeared as if no cost was spared. From the chandeliers and
marble floors to the end tables, elegance surrounded me. The wait was not long,
and I was fortunate to have my sister was right by my side. I scanned the room
and noticed no one looked like me although everyone was pretty young. My name
was called. My sister and I both went back, and the consultation began. The
first thing I said after introductions was, “Ok, I’m still so young, and I’m
single--and I may want to have another baby.” I don’t even know why I was
saying those things. The words just burst out of me in a blurt. My doctor gave
me the nicest smile and said with such excitement, “Don’t worry, you’re going
to love your boobs! They’re going to be beautiful!!” Her smile was contagious,
and it put me at ease. My worry faded. I was confident I was in good
hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had several questions. I wanted to know every detail about
what I was getting into with this surgery. My doctor was not only warm, she was
also personable and compassionate. (This made a big difference!) She answered
every question I had and them some. We talked for two hours. I had to know
every possible scenario that could happen. Fortunately, she didn’t mind. It
felt as if she would have sat for five hours if that was what I had needed. By
the end of the consultation, I felt like I could trust her. I had seen pictures
of her work, and it did look amazing!! At the end of the consultation, she
asked me to take my shirt off, and when I did her reaction was, “They are
beautiful!” I laughed and said, “I know! I love them!” She responded, “Don’t
worry, they will be even more amazing. You will love them even more!” I said,
“Whew! So there is a perk to this whole thing?” Still excited she said,
“Absolutely!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t worry!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I learned that the young patients in the waiting area were
her breast cancer patients as well, and most of her patients were in the
twenties and thirties. That information blew me away!! I had no idea how
prevalent this cancer was in young women. Today, I know that breast cancer does
not discriminate with race or age. I still can’t help but wonder why women
aren’t told to start getting mammograms until they’re age 40. (That seems so
crazy to me now, especially having two daughters to think about).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I left the doctor thinking, “I’m going to loooove my boobs!”
My experience at the plastic surgeon’s office had been such a positive one.
This guided my outlook on the surgery and allowed me to stay focused on my
healing and the recovery. It also gave me the strength to block any negative
thoughts from entering my mind. Everything seemed to be happening so fast and
now I was ready to get past this. However, I knew I couldn’t—go through this
alone. I needed a team of support. It was time to tell my loved ones…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">
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(to be continued…)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment--></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-55417092847923530662013-04-16T18:48:00.000-07:002013-04-16T18:48:26.809-07:00My Escape To A Happy Place …
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I wear so many hats every day. Sometimes, I wonder how I do
it all—how I manage to get everything accomplished. I promise I don’t do it
alone. Up until this point in my life, I had been able to handle every
situation that had been thrown at me. As much as I wanted to say, “<i>I’m ready. I
can handle this. I can beat this. I am strong</i>,” this was simply too much!! It
was emotional. It was scary. I couldn’t even talk about my diagnosis or the next
steps. I just wasn’t ready…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Everyone close to me knows that I truly believe that in
any situation, you have the right, the power and the ability to choose your
experience. At this moment, I was choosing to run away from it all! I chose to
escape … just for a little while anyway. I needed to laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Laughter is contagious—it’s healing,
and it’s good for the soul. I needed to have some fun!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Even during this dark time, light shone
through in so many ways. A blessing appeared in the form of a dear friend. Years
ago he introduced me to a special place as an adult where I had the time of my
life... DISNEY WORLD!! It now qualifies as one of my “happy places.” It was
exactly what I needed at that time. I let loose, become a big kid again and
laugh—a lot! This was during the holidays, and seeing my children happy always
makes me happy—especially around Christmas. Anyone who has been to Disney
during the holidays knows just how amazing it is. I decided to surprise them…</span><!--EndFragment-->
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 348.0pt;">
I called up a friend and said lets
go to Florida and take the kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After about ten minutes of convincing she agreed after approving the
house I chose to rent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We left for
the trip and had the time of our lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A really good friend came through and made sure we had everything we
needed for the trip!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was no
sleeping on this getaway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We all
went hard!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was all about
being in the moment and enjoying life!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Everyday was a new adventure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My friend didn’t know how hard I could go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kids had a blast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We hit the parks and rode everything possible, we did the dinner murder
mystery, and even made time for some adult fun in the night-life after putting
the kids to bed and leaving them with a sitter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the perfect escape!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I put my diagnosis out of my mind the entire trip until the
last day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On that day I had to
tell my friend why this trip had been so important.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was shocked and didn’t know what to say.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She almost didn’t take me serious at
first, but knew I would never joke about anything so serious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She asked me did the kids or my mom
know and I let her know they didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I told her I had to get ready to get back to the real world because my
Doctor appointments would start back as soon as we returned for the new
year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My trip had come to an
end. :( <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Time to leave my happy place
and go back home to put back on the vest with the ‘S’ on my chest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <i> </i></span><i>I was ready!</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least that’s what I told
myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was time to be strong
and face this thing head on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
prayed for strength and I prayed for courage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also knew I could not fight this alone. It was time to
tell my friends (the friends (my angels) who would be there for me every step
of the way …. But First, I had my first appointment with the plastic surgeon…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 348.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">(to be continued…)</span><!--EndFragment-->
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-56087376029419660142013-04-09T20:48:00.001-07:002013-04-09T20:48:20.969-07:00I'm Glad Oprah interviewed Christina Applegate...
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13.0pt;">I patiently sat in the quiet waiting area and noticed that no one looked like
me. I didn't see any other young women, and I didn't see any black women. I had
always heard that breast cancer was more prevalent in older white women. Then I
read that more white women are diagnosed with breast cancer but</span><span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13.0pt;"> <b><a href="http://www.circleofpromise.org/africanamericanstatistics.html" target="_blank">more African American women are dying</a></b></span><span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13.0pt;"> from the disease...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13.0pt;">I heard my name called, and it was time to go back. I sat on the
table in the doctor's office nervously listening to the details of my
diagnosis. I have a short attention span, so I tried my best to stay with what
she was saying in her non-emotional, monotone voice. "You have ductal
carcinoma.” This was a term I had never heard before. "The good news is
that we caught it early and it’s enclosed inside your milk duct." My
attention faded. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13.0pt;">My thoughts went from giving natural childbirth holding on to
the rail screaming at the doctor, "Get this baby out of me!" Then my
thoughts traveled to breast-feeding and the sensation of the milk letting down at
the sound of my baby's cry. Images of my daughters' birthday parties and sounds
of their laughs danced in my head. Images of the people I love and care about raced through my mind. Suddenly, my thoughts jumped to sitting in
the recliner for hours right next to my mom as she was getting her chemotherapy
treatment. She always feigned a beautiful smile when I would visit and force
myself to act unaffected at the site of her bald head. (The first time was the
hardest). </span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13.0pt;">My focus snapped back to what the doctor was saying. "You only have two
options at this point because of your family history. You can have a lumpectomy,
and they can just go in and remove the cancer from the site, or you can have a
bilateral mastectomy." The sound of it was jarring. They were two totally
different options. The second sounded so extreme. I really knew nothing about
either option. She then added, "If you choose the lumpectomy, which is what most people choose in your situation, you will have to do radiation and get tested every six months for the rest of your life. If you go with the bilateral mastectomy,
you won't have to do chemotherapy or radiation and there's a less than 1%
chance of you getting cancer again." Then I thought, "<i>I don't know anyone
personally who had a double mastectomy at my age." </i></span><span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13.0pt;"> At that moment, I
had nothing to help me with this critical decision. However, it really seemed
like a no brainer to me. Just the thought of waiting on a phone call every six months to find out if I had cancer again or not made me cringe. I said, "I'm sure you know what I'm going to do. I
have small kids, and I don't want to ever be in this position again." Even
though I was scared, I felt confident in my decision. Maybe it was that inner
voice that God blessed women with, the one we tend to pick and choose when to listen. At that moment I was listening without doubt or fear. My doctor told me not to
be so hasty in my decision and to go home and think about it, but added that I
shouldn't take too long because I would have to get an appointment with the
plastic surgeon soon. She told me that I would also have to go for genetic testing
for the<b> <a href="http://www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/factsheet/Risk/BRCA" target="_blank">BRCA gene (breast cancer gene)</a>. “</b></span><span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13.0pt;">The good news is it
has not spread anywhere else at this point,” she said. I had undergone an MRI that
confirmed this. I was looking for her to give me advice or her opinion or maybe even a hug. She
gave me neither. I told her to go ahead and make the appointment with the
plastic surgeon. I took a deep breath and walked out still having no doubts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13.0pt;">I left the doctor’s office and walked to the car. I was afraid
to google anything. I thought, "<i>I'm only in my thirties. I work out three
days a week. I eat healthy. I don't eat fast food, and I don't drink sodas. God is this really happening?".</i></span><span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13.0pt;"> Suddenly, I
remembered<b> <a href="http://www.oprah.com/health/Christina-Applegates-Breast-Cancer-Battle/1" target="_blank">Oprah's interview with Christina Applegate</a></b></span><span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13.0pt;">! I remember
watching the show at home a few years ago, unknowing how I would later be
affected. She was thirty-six with a husband, small kids and a nice career. She said
she just told them to "F--- it! Take them both!" Forced to tell her story after her
privacy had been invaded, she had chosen to have the lumpectomy first and then chose to have a bilateral mastectomy. I just know that I saw her talk about going through the surgery, and
when she recovered she returned to her life with her family and her career. She
survived and looked amazing!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who
knew, after watching <i>'Married With Children'</i> so many years ago… I sat in the car
scrolling through her articles on my phone. That interview was my only
reference point at that moment. Reading her story gave me reassurance. My
decision had been made. "<i>I have two beautiful little girls to be here for..."</i></span><span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13.0pt;">, I thought. I was
having a bilateral mastectomy with reconstruction, and there was nothing to
think about. I just needed to get all the details of what this entailed. To
this day I'm still afraid to google bilateral mastectomy. It's still so hard to
even say. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13.0pt;">My next thought: <i>Now, how do I tell my seven and nine year old daughters about all of this?...</i></span><span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13.0pt;">(To be continued...)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494051361247211971.post-84990433127513096962013-04-01T21:01:00.001-07:002013-04-03T16:12:30.320-07:00The Call That Changed My Life ...<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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When you think about a flower that’s in bloom, you think
about its beauty, fresh scent and new life. It all appears to be so perfect… At
no point do you stop and focus on a broken branch or torn leaf or even the dirt
it came from before the beautiful bloom. When reflecting on the past few months
of my life, ‘Beneath the Petals’ came to mind through a friend. As a writer, it
has always been healing to open up through words to paper. I decided to start
this blog to share my story of a journey that I had no choice but to take. This
is scary for me to open up and let people in, but if my story saves one life,
then this weekly blog will have served its purpose as I use it to continue to
heal and move forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Everyone who knows me knows that I’m extremely private with
what goes on in my personal life, but on December 19, 2012 I received some news
that rocked my world. I was diagnosed with breast cancer… (for a while I
couldn’t say it)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On that day, I
couldn’t deal with it myself let alone share it with the world. (baby steps).
It was the last day of my Perfect Peach Journey Workshops with teens for 2012,
and that was the only thing on my mind. I was in my room preparing for the last
session when the phone rang. The doctor who had given me a mammogram and a
biopsy as a precaution for something really small that appeared strange was
calling me with results.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought
back to a call I received when I was waiting get the biopsy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A close friend called and I told them
what I was doing and they said, “Whatever happens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s going to be okay.” </div>
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Now it’s two days later and ‘whatever happens’ is happening
now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the voice on the other
end of the call said who she was, I had no worries. She sounded as if
everything was okay. She calmly said, “We got your results from the biopsy and
it was cancerous.” I stopped breathing for a minute. Time stood still as I let
the words sink in. Only the people closest to me know that I don’t immediately
react to things that are painful. The more painful or difficult it is to
digest, the longer it takes me to react—so you can only imagine how long it
took me to react to this. I was waiting for her to say something else—as if
there were something else to say. I was hoping for a brief moment that it was
some kind of mistake. My sister, who is one year older, had just gotten a
mammogram a few weeks earlier, and her results came back fine. We both decided
to go get mammograms last year after my mom recovered from her second bout with
breast cancer. (We all went through it together!) It was supposed to be a
routine visit. <i>Wait, they just calmly tell you this over the phone.</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span><i>Why is she so calm?</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> My response was (in my I can handle this voice),
“Okay, what’s next?” In her calm, monotone voice she said, “I need you to come
to my office tomorrow. Will that work for you</span><i>?” I thought, ‘How could
it not work for me? How can any of this work for me? Is this a trick question</i><span style="font-style: normal;">?’ I reluctantly said, “Of course.” I ended the call
as if it never happened. I just wasn’t ready. I shared the news with no one,
and I finished preparing for my last workshop and headed out the door to
Families First Non-Profit main office in downtown Atlanta. My life went according
to my plan for the rest of that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The news was put out of my mind. </span></div>
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I eventually called my sister, the only person I could bring
myself to tell. As soon as I started talking, I began to cry. At that moment, I
grew really scared, and I felt helpless. She told me to calm down and tell her
what was going on. After telling her the news, she calmly took control (as she
normally does) and said, “It’s going to be okay. I’ll take you to the doctor.
Stop crying and don’t worry. It’s going to be okay.”<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8494051361247211971" name="_GoBack"></a> My
sister has always been the stronger, outspoken one of the two of us. We both
agreed that we could not tell our Mom… <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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(to be continued …)</div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09653598904252264409noreply@blogger.com29