Let's Do This! Just Thriving.

I just finished chemo Round #2 which I dubbed "Let's Do This!" If I turned the clock back to last August I never would've imagined that I'd be focused on Thriving despite a history of Can-Sa. That work would be on the backburner and yes, that I would miss it. That my life would revolve around doctors appointments, labwork, chemotherapy treatments, recovering from chemotherapy treatments and downtime getting ready for the next go-round. But this is only temporary and I know it is just one chapter in my very very long life.

People have commented on my attitude, my appearance, asked questions about "how I got it" and look at me with great sorrow when they see me. I've been told I need to take this seriously and it's been suggested to me that I take on the attitude of a Survivor "in treatment" (whatever that is). The problem is that none of this is me; either Before Can-Sa, now, nor After Can-Sa. If you've read prior posts you'll see a common thread about me and those people who raised me. We are positive people. There aren't any alternatives for us. We see the best in people and look for the best in all situations. It is the only way for the bros and me which has been great for me on this Can-Sa journey.

The quick answers to alot of the questions I get include yes I am taking this seriously. How couldn't I? Other answers? 1) They have no idea what causes this particular cancer. Only 4000 women will be diagnosed with this kind this year. The type of cancer I had (yes, I still say had) can be genetically linked to other cancers including potentially the type of brain cancer my father had. No link has been found, yet, to my mother's breast cancer but not much research has been completed on this. 2) I think my appearance is due to my spending more time putting make up on than I normally would and getting so much rest. Combined with drinking tons and tons of water. Like many cancer patients - I am expending a lot of energy to make sure I don't look sick. Because I am not. It's the medicine doing its magic, not the Can-Sa that is causing these physical changes. 3) While the empathy is appreciated the sorrowful looks can be too much at times. Despite my blogging - I just want to feel normal, talk about normal things and act normally. Yes, my new norm includes cancer but that is just one facet of my life. I still have the Bonuses, the Dogs, the SO, the opinions on politics and Real Housewives, and most important - an interest in what is going on with my friends and family. So let's focus on all of those things. 4) I am just a positive person. Period. I find myself garnering my energy more carefully these days; surrounding myself with positivity, normalcy (as much as possible) and getting my zen on. It works. The Can-Sa Buddy and now the Can-Sa Clique are a huge part of this. Our conversations are very open and somewhat direct. We know each other on an intimate level that honestly, no one else can get to know us on. It amazes me how the SO has adapted to these women who are strangers to him but know so much about him and me and us. We speak a language and share some bizarre experiences that can't be described to someone no matter how empathatic that listener is.

For me, the chemotherapy treatments are a special day. I know it sounds strange but truly they are. My first day I have to admit, I was a little watery as I walked in the room but it changed quickly. I see so many acts of kindness during my day there; the nurses who run the room greet everyone with hugs and jokes. They are caring and passionate about their jobs. You feel that this is a higher calling for them. They have worked together running this room for over 10 years. The room consists of 15 barcaloungers with IV poles and TV sets for each chair. There are snacks and drinks on hand plus a volunteer comes through every hour or so with juices, coffee, hot chocolate and cookies. The energy in the room is actually a combination of zen (love that word lately thanks to the BFF) and vibrant. It's very peaceful and upbeat due to everyone who is there. I am getting to know some of the other people who are on my schedule although most of them are in there for half the time I am. We greet each other, ask about our families and how we are feeling. The four doctors who oversee the practice greet everyone by name; whether you are their particular patient or not. Everyone trades tips on managing the sideffects of the chemo and shares food, magazines and book ideas. It is a community.

I am usually the first patient in and the last one to leave so they make sure I am set up comfortably and in a place where visitors can easily pull up a chair or sit in an adjacent lounge chair. Unless the room is really busy. Lucky me again, they rarely have anyone in there for longer than 5 hours; my stays will average 8+ it turns out. My mom aka That Woman joined me for Round #2. Within an hour she was reclining and reading, had a heated blanket over her (they keep the room very cool), a plate of cookies and a cup of coffee plus the option of a massage and communion both of which she declined. (Apparently she isn't a big believer in communion outside of Mass, but then again she goes to daily Mass.) I shared her Triple Negative and Thriving for 7 years history with the nurses who in turn shared it with a recently diagnosed Triple Negative who was there. We all just want to meet someone who has, or had, what we have - which I blogged about before. I am still looking for that someone.

I decided to put a theme to each treatment. Round #1 - Bring It On! Round #2 - Let's Do This! Round #3 - I Own This! and beyond - TBD. I shared this with my doctor in one of our conversations and he didn't laugh! He encourages my approach to this and shares it with the nurses. He is in and out of the chemo room all day. His goal, and the goal of this room and for people like me is to attain remission. To be Can-Sa free for as long as possible if not a lifetime. It was a blow the first time I heard this applied to me but now I get it and I am okay with it. The nurses and I were talking about my treatments the other week and I told them my goal is Can-Sa Free and Thriving. They loved it. No talk of remission, no talk of surviving. Just Thriving.

My Messy Life: On Fathers Day and Father Figures

My Messy Life: On Fathers Day and Father Figures: I was woken up this morning at five by two anxious dogs ready to get out for their morning walk. We moved from Park City back to the Los Ang...

My Athlete's Mindset and Can-Sa

I am from a family of athletes. We are Irish Catholic, competitive and focused. Focused beyond belief when necessary. And this has come in handy over the years in various family competitions, in sports and our careers too. With the exception of the Irish Twin (who is an incredibly gifted athlete) the rest of us had to work at it; we don't have that "athlete's touch" that he is blessed with. Dear Old Dad used to tell us that we would have to work harder and smarter than most in order to do well. And well we did. Three of us were NCAA athletes at times and the other three played intramural and club sports during their post high school and college years - I have to admit they were the better students for sure. Now the next generation has continued the love of sports and competition in college - in soccer and rugby.

My chosen sport was swimming. I loved everything about it. The quiet before the early thirty morning workouts. Smoothly cutting strokes through the water. Doing my homework and solving the world's problems in my head, all while working out. Pushing myself through not only workouts but months of workouts - all building to the every important qualifying meets at the end of the AAU season and then swimming in the high school league for fun. (Although that was awfully competitive too.) I wasn't the star but the reliable leg on the winning relay teams, always in the hunt for 1rst or 2nd in a variety of individual events too. My college coach described me as "versatile". (Still deciding if that was a compliment or not.) I swam with world record holders and Olympians as well as childhood friends. My AAU team trained with another team that is well known to this day for producing a number of Olympians and one particular swimmer who held a number of world records. Those girls all swam for a non-league high school rival who my team competed against on one particular day. Which fell right after short course nationals and everyone was in peak form. My race - the 200 free was against a girl who set the national short course record two weeks earlier. At that time she held 3 world records. Yes - I came in second as she shattered the US High School Girls record that day. I swam the race of my life and a personal best. Which was a victory for me since I only saw bubbles in her lane at the end of the race. That was the day I really learned it was all about competing against myself. Keeping my head in the race, swimming as well as I could and achieving personal bests.

Fast forward a number of 'cough cough' years and I've learned that I tap into that Athlete's Mindset frequently. At work, at home and in play. The one thing about athletes, or anyone in their career or at home - is that in addition to talent - success is really all about training. In athletics it can seem really daunting looking at the important game, tournament or meet at the end of the season so many months away. What you learn is that you don't measure yourself against that one point in time but rather against milestones along the way. Building muscle, refining skill, breaking the season into increments. Having fun along the way. Enjoying time with your teammates while staying focused on what you need to do. Looking back I realize I never appreciated all of the benefits of this that I still reap to this day. Until now.

I've spent so much time with doctors, nurses and needles in the last three months that I now define certain days as a Can-Sa free day. Can-Sa free days are days without appointments or any after affects of treatments. They are infrequent but do exist. Bouncing from surgery to minor surgery and chemotherapy, then radiation, in quick succession can take a toll. But I am lucky. Because I have an Athlete's Mindset. Instead of looking at the whole scope of this journey I decided to do this in increments. I have months of treatments ahead between chemotherapy and radiation. Which at first was really overwhelming. Until I realized I can handle it. Because I was once an athlete. Surgery - check. Plan of attack - check. Minor Surgery - check. First chemo - check. So far so good.

Now I only look ahead to the next treatment and look no further. After the treatment when I feel awful I tell myself I can do this because according to a wise friend of mine - its the medicine not the Can-Sa. In case no one ever shared this with you - the main thing post chemo (in addition to nausea) is body pain. It can be incredible. Pain medication might take the edge off but it is still there. I tell myself I can handle it because I used to swim 20,000 meters a day at times. I know how to distract myself from pain and remind myself that it is only temporary. I've never had a baby but I was speaking with one of my Can-Sa Buddies and she said she tells herself the same things. She compares it to a long labor until you hold that baby. It is all about the end result.

I shared my mental plan of attack with the Fabulous Support System. We will deal with this in increments and focus on the positive end result. No more conversations about the long months of treatment ahead or how long it has been since the journey started. No conversations about anything negative they have ever heard about any of this. I tell them we are only going to work with positivity and good information here while acknowledging this is now a part of our lives for now. They quickly agree and adapt. I also let them know I need Can-Sa free days and they like this idea too. Can-Sa talk is now just a part of our normal conversations about family, the weather and weekend plans. We don't look at the whole breadth of it - just what is coming up or what just happened. I am a lucky lady.

Two of my girlfriends have set up an alternating lunch date schedule to keep me busy and make sure I have those Can-Sa free times. We share girl talk, talk about the families and Significant Others aka the Men. Sometimes we talk about making plans for a post treatment vacation somewhere different to celebrate some milestone birthdays and my achievements of this year. Other friends keep us stocked in food - mostly for the SO. The work Can-Sa Buddy and I talk and laugh while comparing notes about our experiences. Last night's conversation was about the kindness we are experiencing on this journey. I shared with her my Athlete's Mindset and she agreed that is the best way to tackle this. The Work Chicks check in on me and send things to keep me occupied or drop by for a little gossip. The BFF has her hands full with a number of things these days. We provide distraction for each other and on occasion - heartfelt conversations too about our fears and challenges. Mostly we laugh in the end though. The five Bros check in on me and I can tell - compare notes about how they think the SO and I are doing. They inquire after The Brown Dog and The Black Dog aka my Constant Companions. We talk about an upcoming family trip that is planned for July and look at different things to do while we are together.

When my doctors and I talk about what is going on and what will go on they probe gently to see how I am doing emotionally. The other day the Superstar Doctor and I were talking and he asked if I felt overwhelmed. I told him I initially did but that I was once an athlete. After he stopped laughing while looking at my current non-athletic self he listened carefully. I shared with him that I've decided that for me to succeed, I was going to look at this as training my way to Thriving. Because I was going to apply an Athlete's Mindset. And win.

My Messy Life: A Letter to My Niece: Why I Say the Pledge of All...

My Messy Life: A Letter to My Niece: Why I Say the Pledge of All...: I am so lucky. I got to spend the last 10 or so days in Southern California, mostly with my family and adding in some Touchstone Time at the...

To Mom on Mother's Day 2013

Some of my first memories are of you comforting me in the middle of the night. You know, in that little house in Beaver Creek, Ohio? The Irish Twin was an infant and roommate; I used to wake up scared if he cried. I remember birthday parties in that house with my BFF Mo - paper cups filled with candy. The Big Bro and Older Bro bringing me all of my presents and helping to open them when I couldn't quite rip into them fast enough. Grilled cheese sandwiches take me back to that house in a heartbeat.

With six kids and a husband who couldn't talk about his job you kept it together. You were the protector, provider and keeper of the flame. You gathered the Irish Twin and me in your arms run to the older boys school when a plane crashed into it to make sure they were okay and after they were? Grilled cheese all around. Five kids with the mumps at the same time and a husband in a country most people hadn't heard of. A son in the hospital with a bone disease I still can't spell while we were in a new city and state. A pregnant you splinting my shattered arm while Dad practically threw up in front of us. I look back at things I took for granted and am now only able to appreciate your gentle touch and calm under fire. Remember the tornado that destroyed a large part of the town we lived in? My memory is one of a fun adventure. You putting the three of us younger kids under Dad's workbench in the basement and telling us to pretend we were invisible, then finding the dog and bringing her down too.

With all of the moves, new houses, schools and friends you kept it fun. You would tell us we were lucky, we'd would always know someone in every major city in the country because we moved so much. Which is true to this day if you look at my Facebook page. When I was a surly teenager looking at a move that I was convinced would destroy my future you started a new tradition. To have a special day where we went out to a fancy and very expensive lunch - Nana in tow. Just us girls. I wish I appreciated it more at the time.

You always took a trip to meet up with your girlfriends. Friends from college and also a cousin or two thrown in since you all went to college together. I know you would've loved it if I continued that tradition of attending that college as did so many of those friends' daughters. Since it turned out that none of my cousins went to that school I feel I made the right choice for me. And thank you for supporting it. Now that I am much older and going on girls trips of my own I see them for what they meant to you - soul food. Time to nourish that spirit for the day to day living.

I feel for you that your only daughter was a Daddy's girl. It was an exclusive club at times and in looking back, I realize how hard that must have been for you. Of course, you had your own fan club inside the family which was stronger in numbers and much louder most of the time. But I also know that you were the one who got the call over my first broken heart, my first real job and for girlfriend advice. Remember when we won the Sports Trivia night much to the shock of all of the men in the sports bar we were in? Best story ever. During the most difficult of times you and I were the ones who met with the doctors about Dad's diagnosis and then sat with him when he got it. You and I were the ones who had those meaningful conversations with him that we hated to have as his life's story came to that final chapter. That was when I learned about your grace and hoped that I picked that quality up from you.

I know my family didn't come in the form you originally thought it would but I love how you embraced the Bonuses and adapted your expectations to this blended family and its needs. Hearing the littlest Bonuses call you Nana makes my heart sing. It makes me happy that you adore the SO although there are times I feel a little excluded from your mutual admiration society. Even The Black Dog and The Brown Dog adore you, although The Black Dog a little more so.

As I've faced Can-Sa in the last few months, I didn't have to look any further than you to see how to handle this fight. How to be positive and embrace this journey - grow from the experience and when the time is right? Put it to good use to help someone else. This chapter reminded me that you are still my Mom - here to make sure I take my medicines on time, get me a fresh glass of water and get my much needed sleep. Making me grilled cheese sandwiches as part of the recuperation. You've made the road ahead, although different from your Cancer journey - less scary. And I need that.

Mom, you've given the six of us a bounty of many gifts. We don't tell you that enough. I see them in my life every day. The importance of a good sense of humor at all times. Curiousity about the world we live in and a calling to get involved; make it a better place. A sense of grace and peace in the face of adversity. The ability to focus on the big picture and only plan for the best outcome. In our worlds, the glass is always half full. Your strength is something we all aspire to. Our lives are about a past, present and future that are all tied together through traditions and story telling. I see these things in the Bonuses and with the littlest ones too just by calling you Nana. I am so grateful to call you my Mom on this Mother's Day and proud to be your daughter too.

What's Your Number?

Since I posted last I've been poked and prodded, had surgery, proven that you can live off whipped potatoes for 4 days while in the hospital. Everyone believes I left the hospital without my constant companion - Can Sa. My hospital stay was great; the people there were caring, compassionate and treated me like I was part of their families. I can't say enough good things about those folks despite a couple of situations that required a strong sense of humor - for both the patient and the caregivers. I am now home and recuperating; getting prepared for the road ahead. Yes, the road ahead is longer than expected but one thing is certain. Limbo no more!

Can Sa journeys are measured in so many ways. Staging, grading, type of cancer. Stages range from one to four; grades are along the same scale. Personally I wish the scale ran up to 10 but that isn't the way it works. Your emotions are constantly evaluated. Will you handle it? Can you handle it? It is one big fat report card that you have to get during the medical equivalent of a parent-teacher conference and then you carry it around. It is your E ticket to various rides available only to those in the Cancer Park. Even when you get in the Park there can be a pecking order of sorts. There has to be if you think about it. Staging and grading help everyone figure out who needs to get to the front of the line most quickly. I've learned that if the Superstar Doctor is running late - it is because someone else needs him at that time more than I do. And I am okay with that. I say a mental prayer for whoever he is helping and also for him. His time is precious but in my experience when the Superstar is with us we feel like we are his only patients. Ever. He needs the prayers as much as the patients do.

If you are, or know anyone - on a Can Sa journey you know this involves a lot of time in waiting rooms. With strangers. When the SO and I are in the waiting rooms we tend to be pretty quiet and sit in the shadows. We are new to this and unsure of the social boundaries. I tend to acknowledge other people briefly and immerse myself in - well nothing. I've learned I can make myself look awfully busy. I've seen many people like me there, others who were outgoing and talkative and yet others who make their situations known to the receptionist and the whole waiting room. They have cancer, they are in pain and can't be delayed. Some can be competitive about it even. Personally this isn't a competition I am interested in at all. I feel for those people especially, the stress is wearing them down.

The SO and I were in a waiting room last week after my surgery. We were there for a post op checkup,removal of various things that shouldn't ever be in anyone's body and to review the final pathology of my Can Sa. I was nervous and in some pain, couldn't sit comfortably. I ended up moving to a different type of chair and had to stretch my legs out to ease the pain a little. The meds weren't cutting it. A woman came in and sat down next to me. Out of the blue she asked how long it had been since my surgery. She shared with me that she had surgery in the same area. That I'll start to feel better but will have some pain even after a year. She talked about her surgery and the follow up appointments over the year since it had taken place.

I got comfortable and asked her a few questions until it became apparent that our surgeries were very different. She had the same fears that I now have but I also saw the same positive spirit I think I have. Her name got called and she mentioned her cancer stage and asked about mine. I saw in her eyes compassion and curiousity. I think she understood my answer even though I never gave it. I had an instant of wanting to switch stages with her but I also knew her Can SA experience was as stressful and scary as mine despite our different stages and grades. You see one of the things I've also learned is that we want to find exact kindred spirits in this journey. Stage, grade, type and outlook. We want to look at each other and see a mirrored reflection of ourselves and our situation, see hope. I realized I couldn't give her the reflection she wanted to see, the her of a year ago but I could give positive thoughts for her continued journey. And on her side? She gave me the encouragement and boost I needed at that moment; that I can handle this no matter how complicated because she believed I could. Because she told me I'll be fine and I needed to hear that.

Upside, Downside-Upside, Upside, Nothing but Upside-Upside

Wow, this Can-Sa thing is really taking over my life. And that of the SO and the Fabulous Support System. Well maybe not taking over theirs but it sure feels that way to me. I'm learning a ton of things along the way already. Most of them are positive but I have had my moments of not-so-positive too.

One of the lessons I am taking away already is really focusing on being present and in the moment. I always thought I was pretty good about that and pretty flexible on a number of things. After all, I am a middle child in a somewhat large family. My ever present uterine baseball and its little cellural friends have taught me that I need to be even more open and flexible. It isn't like I can control or manage this anyways; just how I handle it.

On Monday I was lucky enough to go to Opening Day at Dodger Stadium. That is a really special experience at any ballpark in any city in the country. And yes, I am closet baseball fan and love the Reds. Anyone who knows me well knows: a) I think Pete Rose should be in the Hall of Fame; especially given some of the drugged thugs that have been admitted since he played; and b) I was very happy to see Pete Rose's jersey in the one of the first displays in Cooperstown when the SO and I were there 2 summers ago. It was like someone with my sense of humor (and that of many of my friends) found a way to pimp the voters anyways.

So back to this living in the moment thing. After the game I had an infield pass which lets you mingle with various people, certain Dodgers, various celebrities and local media. The BFF kept joking that this was my Make A Wish Foundation gift and I better appreciate it. But truly, I was there with some work friends so I had to be on good behavior. Until Matt Kemp walked over. Every one around us parted like Moses and the Red Sea. People were worshipping him and trying to get his ear, pictures taken and be a part of the glory that is Matt Kemp. So naturally when he came over to where I was standing I simply introduced myself to him to the shock of my co-workers. He seemed nice enough, extended his hand and introduced himself to me too. (As if I didn't know who he was.) Then Andre Ethier appeared. My version is that I didn't want to be rude to him either so I introduced myself; he offered to have a picture taken and put his arm around me. A so-called Witness to the "alleged incident" has a different version. In his retelling of the story I chased Andre across the infield, pushed some little kids out of the way and forced him to take a picture with me. Which supposedly he did while frantically gesturing for security. Now one thing we agree upon is that I put my hand on his chest for the picture. BTW the SO said he totally understood my behavior - Can-Sa and all of that. I'd like to think I was simply living in the moment; others think there are laws that may have been broken. Total Upside either way based on the end result.

The flexibility part is really getting tested these days. As a friend of mine told me, every Can-Sa journey is unique - how your body and you handle it can't be judged by anyone else. When I suggested to her, a colon and breast cancer survivor (she hates that term) - that mine wasn't that bad compared to most other people she really got upset with me. She pointed out that while everyone thinks there is a plan and way to do things no one is walking in my shoes. And if this cancer is the only one I have to deal with in my life - it is still cancer and can't be compared to anyone elses. That I need to do what is right for me (hence the Andre Ethier groping incident) and pay attention to what is going on with me. Which is good because I am experiencing fatigue that I didn't expect at all. And I haven't spoken with anyone who has had this although to be true most of the people I've spoken with have other types of cancers or had fibroids that weren't malignant. I was overthinking it; there was no way this fatigue could be a simple thing right? Until the Superstar Doctor simply said - you've lost and continue to lose a lot of blood which makes people tired. You need to rest. And he gave me some ideas of things to look for in case the blood levels get too low which they already are somewhat. In my brain somewhere I probably knew that was the answer but just didn't accept it for some reason. But now I do and I realize I just have to go with the flow. Literally. And if that means working from home than that is what I'll do. Being more flexible is caused by some not so great things but is also opening up new doors for me. So flexibility is a Downside-Upside for me right now.

Finally, patience and advocacy. One can never have too much of this. Someone once told me we aren't supposed to ask God for these qualities because the word on the street is that He shows you that you have them is by repeatedly testing you for them. And believe me, I've been tested lately. Dealing with the complex organization called the healthcare industry will do that for sure. I keep thinking I have an advantage navigating complex organizations just based on what I do for a living. Little did I know. I've been waiting for almost two months for a surgery date to hopefully end this journey with Can-Sa. Many doctors appointments, tests, calls, paperwork. And I wasn't getting an answer on the date just that they were waiting for the HMO to approve this. No need to get involved on my part. The new me decided I should get involved. So I simply called the HMO to find out what the delay was. Turned out the paperwork filed by the doctor's office was missing one thing and had an error too. Which had the HMO treating this as a normal, laproscopic hysterectomy - which believe me - I wish I was having. Initially the folks in the Superstar's office didn't have the sense of urgency to straighten this out that I needed them to have. So I created it for them. Reminded them that while Can-Sa is routine to them it certainly isn't to me and I am sure not many of their patients. Let them know how to fix the problem, that I wasn't interested in re-hashing what caused the issue. And finally thanked them for taking the calls I'd been placing. We now have a surgery date and my job is to - again, be patient until that happens. And to continue to advocate for myself and remind people this is my Can-Sa even if it is their line of business. Patience and Advocacy. Things I can use throughout my life so it is all Upside here.

For me positivity is the only way to go. I get that it can be annoying and some people might think I am burying my head in the sand, not willing to face what is going on. That isn't the case for me. The challenges I have in this journey, aside from the obvious - are being vulnerable and opening myself up to the experience, the love and support that is all around me. Telling people what I need and don't need (hopefully in a nice way). Letting the Fabulous Support System participate in this too because this doen't just affect me - it affects those around me. And for someone who hates being the center of attention to take it in, accept it and grow from this. Nothing but Upside-Upside.

I am with C

I am thinking that this new chapter in my life, the one with C - needs to be documented. I need to document it for myself because when I close this chapter and move on I want to look back and remind myself that I can do anything. Which apparently the SO has always thought but I didn't really buy into until now.

The SO is a very wise and practical guy. He is an amazing combination of the corporate guy, the former deadhead and my personal entertainment. Watching him crack himself up over something I didn't quite get, or seeing him get serious and analytical in tackling a problem - I love those moments. We have times where my day is made by getting him to laugh. His nature is that of a caretaker. That is what makes him a great father to the bonuses, a good son and brother and friend. He always surprises me with some of the quietly thoughtful things he'll do. We have a niece who was in the hospital for over a month with a serious illness that culminated in her having to undergo major surgery. I was in close contact with her and her parents - sharing encouragement and good vibes. What did the SO do? He, and Bonus #2 (birth order and nothing else), conspired to send a large cheesecake to the hospital. To the staff in the unit she was in. To say thanks for their hard work. He wouldn't have mentioned it to anyone if word about this hadn't appeared on Facebook. And that is what I love about him. (And #2.) He is all about the random acts of kindness. Just ask various domestically challenged people hanging out on Bunker Hill in downtown LA. Anytime he walks by a fast food restaurant at lunch he buys a lunch and bottle of water and then proceeds to give that to the first domestically challenged person who will take it. And I only know about this because I asked about his frequent debits at a certain establishment that has Golden Arches, usually after debits at a Chinese restaurant, California Pizza Kitchen or a former hang out of ours when we were dating. When I am with the SO things happen.

When you are with C in many ways it is like being the person allowed past the velvet ropes into the coolest club. The Can-sa Buddy pointed out to me that she realized this was serious when she was moved to the front of a lot of lines for tests, appointments - whatever it took. This came home to me when I had to get an updated mammogram and got it scheduled and completed within 24 hours of calling about it. I could've had it done in 4 hours but I had some work commitments that I wanted to stick with. C brings people into your life that you never would have expected. The Pharmacist personally asks how I am doing. The Angel Doctor calls me herself to check in. Can-sa creates a small town feeling for me in this huge healthcare world.

Last week the SO and I went to meet with the bigwig doctor aka The SuperStar. This was a big sitdown about what was going on, what should go on and how we were going make it happen. The SuperStar is the kind of doctor that you seek out and want to work with if you can. Because he is highly sought after he is selective about his clients. The cases he works with are more complex in nature than - say the Angel Doctor's. Hers apparently are a little more ordinary as if any of this is ordinary. So here I am looking at another club that I've gone from dreading to being qualified for - to begging to get in. Well almost. The good news was that while my kind of C got me past the velvet ropes it didn't get me into the VIP room that has bottle service.

When you are in The SuperStar's waiting room the feeling is strange. Everyone who is there is in a similar situation and emotions are running high. There was a woman and her mother - they were chatty and friendly - but I noticed they were clutching each other's hands tightly. There was an elderly woman and her husband. They were probably in their early 70s. She seemed very kind and greeted everyone; he was very polite and reserved. They went in to meet with the SuperStar and the man came out alone. At this time it was just the SO, the man and me. We were all sitting and pretending to be immersed in whatever was on the TV or in the SO's case - checking work emails. But we were just trying to stay distracted; especially since the man - in a very dignified manner - had tears rolling down his cheeks. I quietly peeked at him and mentally said a prayer for them; all the while hoping the SO is never in that position. Or anyone at all for that matter.

After two hours spent with The SuperStar we both left there in a better frame of mind. That there is a tentative plan of attack. We were also exhausted by the information and emotions and ready to get on with it. When you leave these kind of appointments its strange because you sort of vault back into the normal routine; it is like for two hours you were in an alternative universe. Work emails were piling up, voicemails and returning calls to fabulous support system. When you are with C and in that club those are the responsibilities. Pushing forward and getting on with it. And in my case, being with C reminds me to appreciate the job, the health insurance, the support system, the experience of others going through this, the Bonuses and the SO. I'm ready for my time with C to end, we need to part ways and I'll be happy living the ordinary life I was already living.

You can do this. It won't be fun. We'll get through it together.

I am an avid dog lover with my heart given to The Black Dog and The Brown Dog. Okay, I shouldn't forget the SO or the Bonuses; the pups are close second behind them. Close enough behind them that on occasion the fam might even feel second rate at times. Which makes me feel badly - for the dogs. What kind of monsters have I created?

These days those two monsters are my constant companions. They watch over me like a hawk and give the SO a hard time if they think he isn't watching closely enough. Which he always is by the way. Lucky me. Watching the dogs I am learning to slow down and pay attention to what is going on around me. I always tend to think that their SoCal life is very different from their days in the mountains of Utah. That they miss the wildlife and the openness - not only of our former home but the open space around that home. The Brown Dog and his weekly climb up our rock retaining wall to run the trails with our neighbor's dog until I could find him and treat bribe him home. The Black Dog touching noses with a young male moose through the screen of our bedroom window one spring. And my storm watching from our living room or deck; snow storms, lightning storms and rainbows.

Our home in SoCal is in a neighborhood that is, diplomatically - very neighborly. Houses are close to one another although angled in a way that creates privacy. Yards are separated by cinderblock walls and strategically placed trees. In Park City the dogs would sometimes get involved in barking conversations that went on between the houses in our neighborhoods. Everyone took their turn, no interruptions and to me - it seemed like a clear passing of information up and down the street. Most of the time this was around moose sightings or certain dogs and their human companions - availing themselves of our yards without picking up. (The dogs not the humans; I hope.) Here in SoCal the dog chitchat seems to be more around announcing it is time for the evening walk and they are on the way (the four Bassett Hounds), the Maltipoo across the street alerting everyone to coyotes in the canyon below and the German Shepherd announcing he has patrolled the streets with his human companion and all is well. The Brown Dog is on alert, either watching through our upstairs bedroom window or the gate by our pool; alternating between greeting people who are part of the regular routine or sounding the alarm on interlopers. And The Black Dog? She is more focused on the weather and making sure all are safe if it is windy or rainy or too hot. Their version of Limbo is like mine, killing the time between gathering information and acting on it.

When you are in my stage of Limbo, you are living with an uninvited guest - Can-sa. In Limbo your mind takes over between doctors appointments and next steps. To keep myself on the positive path I am focusing on seeing things and opening myself up in a way that I never have before. I notice the dogs and their routines. I am, finally, paying attention to the messages my body is sending me and I am developing a new appreciation for the little things the SO does that I may have taken for granted in the past. That is the beauty for me of Limbo. I decided to go with positivity although I certainly have my moments that aren't as positive. Luckily for me I have a very unexpected Can-sa Buddy. Not that my support system isn't doing a great job but sometimes it is easier to talk to someone who has been on, or is on - the same path you are.

My Can-sa Buddy is someone I have had respect for since the day we met. I can't say we've been particularly close but I know when I am around her I really enjoy her company. She was diagnosed with breast Can-sa earlier this year. We spoke about it only a couple of times while she was trying to sort it out; her worries for her family, her job and ability to go through various therapies for a year that weren't initially part of the plan. I had nothing to add to the conversation but support and an ear. Little did I know that one conversation about a week before my own diagnosis prepared me for the events to come.

Now I hate like hell that she has this; but on the other hand - I am so glad to have her to share this experience with. She gets it. And my situation isn't even that bad relatively speaking. We talked the other week and I shared my still unfolding diagnosis with her. One of the challenges I've had is with my body's response to some medications I am on. I've been constantly sick and exhausted which no one foresaw. Lucky me - in the elite tiny group of people who have this reaction. And I am beginning to worry thinking this is supposed to be the easy part. My Can-sa Buddy, aka the CB - understood and was able to talk me through it. (Looking back, I am not sure she knew how stressed I was.) She reminded me to take things a day at a time; to set boundaries and put this first. Reminded me of that one conversation we had which was all about the same issues - for her. She shared her fears with me about her upcoming chemotherapy which was going to start shortly. She also shared her feelings of support and love - from both expected and unexpected places. She reminded me to remain open and calm. We both pull each other up when we need to and allow the comfort of a little breakdown when we need to do that too.

I was at home the other day, working and dealing with some unexpected fallout from a bad food and med mix. I was probably overthinking things. The SO, the family, the dogs and friends, work. It seemed overwhelming. My two canine companions were by my side all day; rotating in and out and resting when I slept. Their presence was very comforting. I kept thanking about my CB too. When we last spoke, only a couple of days ago she was preparing for her first chemo treatment. We laughed about some of the strange things we are experiencing and acknowledged that our paths are different too. After we hung up she sent me a follow up email which I didn't expect at all; it cheered me up. I decided to keep it and remember it as the dogs surround me, the SO does those unexpected things; as the Bonuses, family, friends and Touchstones check in. Now I have the CB to add to this fabulous support system. And I hope I am part of hers too.

"You can do this. It won't be fun. We'll get through it together."

My Messy Life: Limbo and Dog Days

My Messy Life: Limbo and Dog Days: Here I am in this new chapter of my life that I am starting to think of as Limbo. You know, that period of time where you are waiting and r...

Limbo and Dog Days

Here I am in this new chapter of my life that I am starting to think of as Limbo. You know, that period of time where you are waiting and relying on others for something to happen? In general I am a pretty focused person; I take care of things and keep marching forward. I don't normally live in Limbo; workwise or lifewise. I'm one of those annoyingly positive people who like to problem solve. Which can cause problems in its own way but it is always done out of love.

Patience isn't a strong point of mine either. I get that from those people who raised me and grew up with me. Life meant to be lived and laughed; be in the moment but don't cling to it because there is another moment around the corner. So Limbo is certainly not a state that I do well with; I can't manage it or speed it up. I just have to fill it and manage the way I handle it. I know I have Can-Sa but don't know exactly what we are going to do about it. I know I have to have surgery and now it looks like there could be more treatments but don't know if that is the case or when that will happen. The next big date on my calendar is in two weeks and I feel like I am in Limbo until then.

In my true style I decided I would just fill the time and be as busy as possible. This pleases That Woman aka my mother because she is not an advocate of "just laying around". The problem is that my body, and doctors disagree. My main doctor - The Angel - called me the other day. Now I know the contact numbers I gave started with my office phone, then my cell and finally my home phone. I figured I would rarely be at home; my routine wouldn't change. What I didn't expect was getting sick with a fever which kept me home. I was told to stay home for 24 hours after the fever broke; it was probably just a warning sign that my body was still recovering from my hospital stay. So the phone rings, at home, and the person on the other line says "Good! You are where you are supposed to be!" It is the Angel. We talked about some test results and she asked me how I was feeling about them and the temporary plan of attack. "Are you in?" she asked. "Because I need to know. If you aren't I need to know that too." I told her I was in and game for pushing through this. She asked if the SO was too and then reminded me to rest and said she'll be calling to make sure I am. I need to be in good shape for surgery and beyond. And again, no to the Tummy Tuck suggestion. I checked my other phones later and she hadn't even tried to call them. I guess that is her way of sending me the message about what she thinks the priorities are. I can't imagine what she would've said if she caught me at the office.

As we talked and then hung up the Dogs were by my side. As always. The Brown Dog was laying on the bed and The Black Dog? Right by the side of the bed. Now I know their daily routine has been rocked lately. I've changed my work routine so I am home in the mornings taking conference calls and doing my "office work" and then out in the afternoons for the meetings I need to do in person. This fits with my medicine routine; meds early in the am, nap a little between calls and really nauseous until noonish. Then a manageable sick and tired feeling until 4 or so. I get home and sleep for a couple of hours until the SO arrives then start the whole cycle all over again. The Dogs aren't used to this. I think when we are out of the house they rest and guard the house until we get back but that is it. The Dogwalker usually comes mid-day and they sleep until I get home. Now I am here and they are on duty.

The SO thinks they know I am battling something. He thinks they've known since before we knew because for the last couple of months they've been attached to me. If I was napping, one of them was right there. If I went to the bathroom, or the library as I like to call it - one of them laid by the door until I came out. I have to be honest, it was getting a little annoying. But now I look at it differently.

In our new routine they both watch me while I am feeling the worst. When I start to feel better they take turns. One of them goes outside and patrols the backyard, or sunbathes or has conversations with the neighbors' dogs while the other Dog stays with me. After an hour or so they trade places. This goes on until I leave or the SO gets home. This changing of the guard is handled silently by them. They've assigned themselves their roles and my job is to flow with it. I am starting to get used to The Black Dog's staring at me. When I first got home I slept a lot and she would sit by me. I could feel her breath on me and everytime I opened my eyes - there were hers. Just staring. At me. It freaked me out a little. The Brown Dog? When he is on duty he likes to have body contact with me. Not his full 90 pound body, just a little touch. If I am in bed he is there too - usually positioned so he can watch the street, or sky, or ridgeline out the window. But he always has a paw up touching my leg through the covers. Sometimes he goes for full body contact, usually if I am feverish or cold.

When the SO arrives home the Dogs relax. They play with each other or try to engage him. They play with me too if I am up or energetic. It is like their job shifts from protecting to playful; to keeping us laughing and moving around. At night, they go off duty until the next morning. My old role around here was organizing things, running the routine and taking care of them and the SO. This change from caretaker to being taken care of - not easy for any of us. But apparently easiest for The Black Dog and The Brown Dog. So my new goal related to Limbo is to take it one day at a time. Instead of watching the clock and calendar to note the smaller things and enjoy them. To understand that this nauseous thing is a sign of my body fighting the fight with some medicinal help. It isn't a sign of weakness but strength. And that this in-house support system has always been there, waiting for the right time to jump in.

My Messy Life: Welcome to the Club; Patience and Sense of Humor R...

My Messy Life: Welcome to the Club; Patience and Sense of Humor R...: I have reached the age that as you hit that milestone birthday people welcome you to the club. I like this club. I am comfortable with it ...

Welcome to the Club; Patience and Sense of Humor Required.

I have reached the age that as you hit that milestone birthday people welcome you to the club. I like this club. I am comfortable with it and am very relaxed about it. So different than the other clubs I participated in over the course of my life but so awesome.

Now I've never been a person to aspire to any sort of elite or exclusive club. Being a military brat my brothers and I spent plenty of time at the Officer's Clubs; swimming and hanging out with our friends, enjoying brunches after Mass or on really special occasions - having dinner there. It was later, as a tween that I became aware of the caste system of the military clubs though my friends whose fathers were non-commissioned or enlisted. That was the beginning of realizing there is a group of people always on the outside looking in.

The bros and I also got our fill of clubs when we'd visit our relatives in NY. I always thought they were quite fancy with the golf clubs and mens' clubs. Our much beloved Uncle D belongs to a club that counts Governors, industry leaders in a variety of fields and yes, even a couple of Presidents among its membership. What I remember about going there was the usual speed shopping trip to find clothes appropriate for dinner there because I rarely packed correctly for those visits much to my mother's chagrin. (I am sure that is why I picked up an addiction to cashmere, good shoes and nice pearls.)

I wasn't the kind of girl who joined a sorority - as a matter of fact the college I attended didn't even have sororities when I was there. I have a number of friends who were sorority girls at other schools and always felt I tasted enough of Greek life through time spent with them on their campuses with their "sisters" and the cute boys who were always around them. But in retrospect, even without sororities my college girlfriends and I felt like sisters (and still do in most cases) and there were plenty of cute boys who were always around.

While I got older I was able to experience other clubs; business clubs, country clubs and airline clubs. I appreciated them all but was fine with, or without them. As I approached, and turned - 50 I felt like I really hit a milestone. No crisis, just a celebration of the age and a more casual outlook. It is a little known secret that this Club is fun to be a part of. I am so happy to be a part of it. As you get close to the age you hear the jokes, you start to look at yourself differently and look at others through that age filter.

Recently I became a member of an exclusive club that 49,999 other women are expected to join in 2013. Talk about limited membership. I was diagnosed with endometrial cancer; Stage 1B or possibly 2. I don't know any of these other women but already feel a sisterhood with them; a sense of inside the club versus outside looking in. By comparison - approximately 232,000 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer. The details of my cancer are still unfolding and yes, I view it as my cancer. Just like my glasses, my feet and my arms. It is now a part of me even after it is long gone which btw - it will be in short order.

My BFF and I have decided to refer to it as Can-sa (which is pronounced how I typed it out). Best said in a whisper - ideally while talking about me in the third person to someone else. In front of me. This is straight out of a movie - St. Elmo's Fire and a scene where one of the girls takes her crush to her parents' house for dinner. There he learns that the mother only whispers anything too awful to say out loud such as cancer or prison, with a Queens accent. (I have always loved that movie and scene.) So there you have it.

I am lucky and I've always said so. In this case I am really lucky. Like the other women in my new club the prognosis is very good. If there is a cancer considered curable - this is the one. There might be further treatments after my surgery and I am I sure can handle them. Because I also belong to another ultra exclusive club. This club consists of all of the people in my life. The Bros, Bonuses, Touchstones, Railposts and Fenceposts. Park City friends, work friends, couples friends. The Brown Dog, the Black Dog and most important the SO. I am lucky to belong to this club; the benefits are great and the food is pretty good too.

My Messy Life: It was just another day; and all of my heroes had ...

My Messy Life: It was just another day; and all of my heroes had ...: As we all keep reading and hearing - it was just another day. Clear skies across the country and normal people going about their normal rout...

It was just another day; and all of my heroes had it in common...

As we all keep reading and hearing - it was just another day. Clear skies across the country and normal people going about their normal routines. Everyone knows what happened on that gorgeous Tuesday. The world changed and so many heroes walked through our lives.

One reads this and hears it from almost anyone over the age of 14. It was the end of the summer and people were starting the routines with school and in my case, the final push to wrap up another year at work. I was living near the beach and working in downtown Los Angeles. My office had amazing views towards the south and west. I used to watch the airplanes in their landing patterns approach LAX or sometimes I would look down Grand and watch the sunset as it set behind the Library Tower about a half block from my building. I enjoyed those small breaks in my day until they took on such a different meaning. Days without planes in the sky. The Library Tower was another target we later learned.

Funny how you can look back at ordinary conversations and they take on such meaning with time. The Saturday prior to the 11th I spoke with my (somewhat) older brother D who was in the Air Force and stationed at Offut AFB in Nebraska. At that time he worked in National Security and mentioned he would be traveling to Florida for work during the week. On Sunday the SO - who at that time was just the BF - and I went to LAX to have a drink with my (oldest) brother C and faux Uncle. They were traveling to the Reno Air Show. They had a long layover between their flight from DC and the commuter flight to Reno. The SO was meeting the faux Uncle for the first time and this was a big deal. We had a great time talking about my father and sharing stories of our childhood. My faux Uncle pulled me aside at the end of our time in the airport and gave the SO his stamp of approval. It was also my nephew Boy's fourth birthday over the weekend. I remember thinking how grownup he was starting to sound when we spoke on the phone although he didn't like to have the long conversations his sisters would have with me. His dad, my Irish twin, and I spoke - mostly about trying to get together soon and we hung up. I have a friend, or close acquaintance, who at that time was a self described Connecticut housewife. She thinks of herself as a meek person and that morning was planning her family's annual ski vacation over the holidays.

The skies were as clear and blue in Los Angeles as they were in New York, Pennsylvania and DC. When my day got underway I already knew about the first plane and learned more incrementally as I headed to my office. But this isn't my story about my experience that day. It is the story about how heroes are born or shown to us.

My brother D was traveling with the President that day as part of the National Operations Team that shadows the President in his daily activities. D and I did not speak again until after Christmas. He, and others who serve on those teams were truly the first deployed. My sister in law (L) deserves a medal or at least a special piece of jewelry. Having said that, she just wanted her husband home with their daughter. L - like so many military spouses then and now; immediately became the sole and primary caregiver to my niece - Gorgeous K. K was was 7 and K was confused. They had no notice about Daddy's trip being extended; it wasn't on their calendar that marked his trips. She just knew that he wasn't coming home and that it was somehow tied to what was on tv. In the beginning she thought he was attacked and missing; later she asked Santa to send him home for Christmas. Their family settled into a new normal. They were fortunate because they could meet for a day periodically. D has never really talked about the events of that day. He is my immediate older brother who always entertained me, taught me how to read and do math. He has always been a hero to me and became a hero for all of us that day.

C was in Reno and was unable to leave there for something like 10 days. He was there to support a friend who was racing and to combine his two personal passions - mechanics and airplanes. He had never been away from his family for more that a couple of days and was awed by the response of people in Reno. They took in people attending the races; made sure the attendees had food, water and things to do until they could head home. It was difficult for him and his family but he had the perspective that this was nothing compared to what other families were going through all over the United States. I think we spoke more on the phone that week than we normally talked in a month. C was always a hero to my younger siblings and me but really became one during that time. He never complained and was so calming to us while we worried about D and his family. He attained superhero status for me.

Now the faux Uncle was always a hero to us and was DoD's (aka Dear Old Dad's) closest friend. He had served two tours in Vietnam when I was younger. We used to include him in our nightly prayers as well as the faux Aunt and Cousins. Little did we know that on that day his son; our faux cousin - would lose a friend who was a pilot. We add faux cousin to my list of heroes because he has always stood for what he believes in and doing the right thing. The faux cousin's friend died doing what he loved and that is heroic.

The little guy, Boy didn't understand what was going on. The TV was on and his Dad, the Irish Twin, ended up being home from work. Boy knew enough to understand that everyone was worried about his Uncle D (who probably was one of the safest people in the country) and that the adults were upset. The little guy is now taller than I am and is on track to become an Eagle Scout. Service to others is ingrained in his personality. He is my hero and I am certain will emerge as one to all of us in some capacity as he grows up.

Everyone knows that there was a horrific loss of life that day and there were many heroes and angels. The world had gaping holes; families had empty seats at their tables. The world became a small town. My family wasn't directly affected by knowing someone who was lost that day but we had our ties to NY, Pennsylvania and DC. If you flash forward to 2011 those empty seats affected us directly.

I used to take American Flight 77 from Dulles to LAX on Mondays or Tuesdays after visiting family or friends in DC. It was great because I could still get in a pretty full workday after flying all morning. Over time I learned that a former colleague (who I only met but didn't really know) had perished when the second plane entered his Tower through his office at Fuji Bank. The SO knew this person and he also lost another former colleague that morning. It is still surreal seeing those names on lists or in stories about the World Trade Center. All of those who perished that day are my heroes.

As the story goes the then BF officially became the SO and we moved to our slice of heaven in the mountains of Utah in 2004. We realized that our closest neighbors had a few children and they seemed to be in a home headed by a single mother. Until I spent some time with her and learned that her husband was a reservist. In their non-military life he was a neurosurgeon specializing in trauma such as gunshots. He ended up serving 4 tours during our 6 and a half year stay in Utah. And his family was grateful because while he was gone he could Skype with his children and help them with their homework via email. That family is among my heroes.

I became friendly with a woman in our small town through mutual friends and shared interests. We were invited to a holiday party at her home in 2006 and she confided that she hadn't entertained in a number of years; pretty much since she moved to Utah. While at her house she took me into her office to show me pictures of her new grandchild and as we turned I saw many drawings on the walls. Most were framed with notes from school children. Our hostess lost her husband in one of the towers. She describes herself as not so confident; I think she is amazing. She now has grandchildren and many new joys that she should've shared with her husband. Her eyes are still sad at times and weary. She would be surprised to learn that she is my hero.

I have a college friend who I lost touch with for many years. Thanks to facebook we were able to reconnect. She is an amazing blogger; she writes from the heart and still has the sense of humor I recall from #$%& years ago. Her birthday is on September 11th and it is difficult for her. She blogs sometimes about one of her heroes - Pat Tillman. He was part of her extended family and represents for so many a hero who was a leader and one who believed in service. He left an empty seat at their family's table and she is passionate about furthering his message and that of the Pat Tillman Foundation (http://www.pattillmanfoundation.org/). And for that she is my hero.

And this post is my tribute to all of those who serve or are unknowingly pulled into situations that call for leadership, service or sacrifice. They rise to the challenge and even if they don't know it become my heroes.

My Messy Life: Area Codes and Life Changes

My Messy Life: Area Codes and Life Changes: "Yesterday I was filling out application forms for a new dog daycare place for the Pups. Yes, in Los Angeles you have to apply for dog daycar..."

Area Codes and Life Changes

Yesterday I was filling out application forms for a new dog daycare place for the Pups. Yes, in Los Angeles you have to apply for dog daycare and yes, the dogs (along with their human companions) are "interviewed" for these few and highly sought after openings. I did my research; identified our first choice and backups then went and toured the facilities. It is a highly competitive process and very stressful. Private school applications or college admissions are a walk in the park compared to this. It isn't often that you have to worry about your children leaving "doodles" in the reception area or biting the admissions officer. Well, in the case of a few unnamed children that I know maybe their parents should worry about the biting. But I digress.

In our most recent move I seem to be filling out more paperwork than ever. Everyone wants the standard information including address and phone number; using these to judge what kind of person you are and what type of life you live. In the case of the pups, breed information is provided too. Imagine the confusion when our form has us living at a residential hotel with a purebred English Lab and a mutt of undetermined breeding with a 435 area code for the phone number. The SO's job has an impressive title although in his world it doesn't really mean much. My current status as a domestic goddess/diva is also cause for concern. But then they come to the area code...

The area code we currently have (435) reflects our most recent way of life. Mountains, skiing, golf (or not in my case) along with career change and lots of airline time for work or fun. We lived in a world famous small town and loved it. It was a huge change from our prior area code (626) which invoked visions of a famous parade or football game; old money and traffic. For us this area code takes us back to the early time in our marriage; discovering a new way to look at life and give up our respective former single area codes.

Our individual area codes from when we were dating showed that on paper we were geographically undesirable. Mine (310) was for the Westside. The area code, to those in the know, meant beach, fun, dinners out (or delivered) and career. I would like to think career/hipster/Carrie Bradshaw type but those who know me would beg to differ. The SO's was a suburban area; Target, soccer, inland, family oriented and a long commute (949). In those days 949s and 310s rarely knew each other much less dated. But we were able to overcome this and - with some reticence about the area code not the marriage on my part - became the aforementioned 626 couple. It only made sense.

I got my first cell phone in the immediate days after the Northridge earthquake. The area code was for northern San Diego and Orange Counties (714) as I didn't have a place to live for a little while. My father was adamant that I needed one when they couldn't get ahold of me in the first hours after the quake. (I happened to live in one of the worst hit areas so he had cause for concern.) He had been on me to get one for awhile and this was the final straw for him. When my nieces do the math and realize how old I was they can't imagine how I lived without one. One the other hand they can't imagine how any of us lived without them or what a rotary phone is either.

Which brings me back to the application and our current situation. We are househunting in the 747/818 area code and will most likely end up there. What will that area code mean? It is relatively new so people might not know how to categorize us; not old money (or no money) nor hipsters; is it urban, suburban? Will we be able to get reservations at restaurants or strike up conversations with people over it? And most important will it be held against us in the quest for good dog daycare or kennels?

Because we all know that in Los Angeles you are what you drive or in our case - you are what your area code says you are....

My Messy Life: On Fathers Day and Father Figures

My Messy Life: On Fathers Day and Father Figures: "I was woken up this morning at five by two anxious dogs ready to get out for their morning walk. We moved from Park City back to the Los Ang..."

On Fathers Day and Father Figures

I was woken up this morning at five by two anxious dogs ready to get out for their morning walk. We moved from Park City back to the Los Angeles area and while this required some adjustment by the SO and me to a new job, traffic, city noises and all of the food delivery options the two fur companions really had to make adjustments. Walking on leashes - all of the time. No backyard to wander around in and hunt moose, elk or potguts in. Seeing other dogs being walked in outfits that match their human companions. Okay, I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing that much less our dogs. We are back in the real world and no longer on our extended vacation in the Wasatch Mountains. So the dogs needed their walk, I needed some exercise and the SO needed to sleep in. After all, it was Fathers Day.

The pups and I took off; leashes on and baggies in hand. During our walk I got to thinking. The SO and his siblings were raised by his mom; who some would argue was a great father as well as a great mother. She did an amazing job and still does one to this day. I had a different upbringing with two parents under the same roof with more traditional roles. Dad aka DoD (self named as Dear old Dad aka the Colonel) was a military man; highly disciplined, loved his country and believed anyone could do anything if they set their minds to it. Mom was, and is, very similar. Her main interest is life. She thinks it should be well lived and well laughed. They both shared an incredible sense of humor which I think my siblings and I inherited.

As a military family we moved around; not as much as some military families but more than most kids. Dad's career in electronic warfare had him traveling quite a bit and working long hours so he wasn't always there for every milestone event in our lives. But we were lucky; we had other men in our lives who stepped in.

Uncle DB lived in Albany NY. He is a retired educator and administrator who has a cult following all over the Northeast and the US for that matter. This elite group consists of my cousins, brothers and me along with our families. Now Uncle DB is not a blood relative nor married into the family. But don't tell any of us he wasn't our true Uncle. He was a father figure who made it to our First Communions, confirmations, graduations and weddings. He, along with Aunt M and Uncle J (both blood relatives not related to each other at all) joined us for holidays or to settle into a new house. Since DoD couldn't do it; Uncle DB had to give the final stamp of approval on the SO. He has always been there for us; no matter where we lived. All over the country... He had no children of his own but is an important father figure to all of us.

Uncle S is another father figure to my brothers and me. He was one of my Father's closest friends having started their newlywed lives and military careers together. We probably spent more time with him and his family than we did our "blood" relatives because they always seemed to live near us over the years and all across the U.S. Dod and Uncle S experienced fatherhood with each other and shared many laughs and undoubtedly a few tears as all of us kids grew up. Now Uncle S is not our Uncle in the genetic sense; he is our faux uncle, his kids are my faux cousins and Aunt G - she was our amazing faux aunt. Which brings us to BZ; Aunt G's husband after Uncle S who also became a guiding light to the 4 of us younger kids. For me, he taught me about watershed, wildlife and the importance of river reclamation projects. But that is a whole other story for another time.

And as an adult whose parents didn't live nearby my Jewish father stepped in with advice and guidance when needed. He took a quiet interest in all that was going on with me and actually - all of the Touchstones. He stays current in what is going on in our lives and was one of the first to screen the SO and put his stamp of approval on him. Now the Jewish Mother typically gets all of the press from us; even after she has been gone all of these years. But the Jewish Father is another father figure and so important to me even as I write this.

The SO was lucky enough to have friends' fathers who were good role models. They coached him in sports, helped him with scouting projects and in one case - made him go to Mass. Now he wasn't raised as a Catholic but this influence always remained with him even as an adult who eventually converted to Catholicism. All of this prepared the SO for instant fatherhood and an instant family of 3 young children which was added to one more time by his youngest daughter. I love just observing this blended family of which I am lucky to be a part. They all share his mannerisms, his sense of humor and each one has a unique piece of his heart. He is their DoD and time spent with them brings him peace and joy. As it does for me.

We lost a young father in our family this year and I want to give his children and wife hope, leave them with some thoughts. Their dad will be missed but his influence won't be lost and he won't be forgotten. They have Uncles, faux Uncles and Grandfathers who will step in and help create more memories. On this Fathers Day I have to thank all of these important men who fill the gaps where they can. Unasked and sometimes unacknowledged. But always loved.

A Letter to My Niece: Why I Say the Pledge of Allegiance and Honor Our Flag

I am so lucky. I got to spend the last 10 or so days in Southern California, mostly with my family and adding in some Touchstone Time at the end of the trip. It was the first solo road trip I have taken in many years. Usually the S.O. and I fly somewhere for vacation or maybe road trip together depending on how long we have. But I was feeling the need for the open road and had some family matters to attend to so off I went. I was looking forward to spending some time with my brother and his family; minus the Niece Who Is Away At College. There is still one Niece (A) at home and her brother (let's call him Boy.) Plus my mom, brother aka the Irish Twin and his wife, who is like a sister to me. I always stay at the Irish Twin's house because I like the time with all of them plus the fur niece and admittedly it is still hard for me to stay at Mom's house without Dad being there. Even though it has been many years.

Dad embodied the American success story. Well, at least he did for my siblings and me. He grew up in upstate NY, the son of tenant chicken farmers. My grandparents moved upstate when Dad was young; after my grandfather took an early retirement from the NYPD due to a gunshot wound. They raised my father, his sister and brother on various egg farms and instilled a love of reading and learning in all three of them. They all went to college with Dad leaving the area and going to the Naval Academy. He joined the Air Force upon graduation and when he started his second career in the private sector we moved to California for the last time. Dad had a strong sense of patriotism and love for our country. He believed anything was possible and respected people with different views. He always pointed out that differing views make our country what it was and is, a country with free speech and free pursuit of religion (or not as the case may be), a country that promotes the idea of freedom.

So this brings me to what is compelling me to write this. In spending time with A and the Boy I learned that schools are really struggling with accommodating divergent views. Particularly around the Pledge of Allegiance and our Flag. And I am bothered. Really bothered. I am bothered because I respect the right of those who don't agree with saying God while reciting the Pledge to not say God or to not say the Pledge at all. That is fine and that's their choice. As it is my choice to say our Pledge and to include recitations around God when saying it. To those who don't agree - I respect you and your choices, you respect me and mine. We can peacefully coexist and not be offended by each others beliefs or choices. But don't ask me to give up my rights to accommodate yours. And if that means you can't acknowledge the Flag and have to turn your back to it, well - while I don't understand that I respect your right to do this.

So in talking about this A asked me what this means and why is it such a big deal to me? She wasn't challenging my views, just trying to understand them. I remember being her age and having similar discussions with my parents. I know they are important conversations and they require thoughtful, honest responses. So here is my response, in the form of a letter.

Dear A,

I say the entire Pledge of Allegiance because first and foremost I am very patriotic. I freely Pledge Allegiance to our Flag and our country because I am grateful. I am grateful to the founding fathers and all of those who fought to create a nation that embraced differences for the greater good. For unity and freedom. For our rights. For representation at all levels of our government.

I embrace our Flag and what it symbolizes. Every time I say the Pledge I think of those who fought, and fight, for our freedoms. Yes, your great-grandfather in WWI, your grandfather, your uncle and possibly you as you consider a military academy appointment in lieu of traditional college. The Flag reminds me of all of those who have sacrificed. No matter where or when. No matter my personal thoughts about the war they have fought in or may fight in. They are sacrificing for me and us. The Flag stands for those that have fallen and I respect that and appreciate it. They believed in our country and freedoms enough to join the military and serve; how can I not support them as they made the ultimate sacrifice?

The Flag reminds me that we have others serving us in different ways. Some with grace and some, maybe not so much. But they are still serving and have a belief in their service that I need to respect. Yes, I am talking about people involved in politics. Obviously I don't agree with all politicians but I respect their involvement and willingness to get involved. It is a tremendous sacrifice as a profession. And these days, if you just relied on political pundits and tv ads it is pretty ugly. But I like to educate myself, look at the greater good and the system in place to allow people to participate in the process. And to me, the Flag stands for all of this.

And finally I honor the Flag because it stands for freedom and a safe haven. I had the best reminder of that the other day while having a bagel with your grandmother. At the table next to us was a gentleman who sat alone but was very friendly and greeted people as they walked by him. He held the door open for us as he wished us both a good day. As he did that I saw the numbers on his arm and thought about how much that man has seen and overcome. The horrors he saw and hopefully the good in people that he experienced. Now I know that our country has issues and truly, not all are treated equally. Sadly the founding fathers never said treated equally in their writings, they said created equally. And yes, we have a long way to go on the treatment of all peoples as equals but we live in a society that is always willing to change and address shortcomings. It takes time but I am optimistic that the right thing always happens. So how can I not honor a Flag that represents so much hope for those who don't experience it here or in many cases, in their native countries?

As for the Pledge of Allegiance I am proud to say it. Yes, I believe in God but I have to say that I have had periods in my life where I didn't believe in God. God as a concept was only recently added to the Pledge, during and after a time of horror in the world. I say the full Pledge because it best embodies for me the meaning of the Flag, our United States and my sense of patriotism. And in times where my belief in God wavered it never dawned on me not to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. Because for me, saying the Pledge showed respect to those who believe in God and a persons right not to believe in God. So I say the full Pledge, it is a way of acknowledging my fellow Americans and our differences - whether we share a belief in God or not.

A, this is why I say the Pledge and honor our Flag. It isn't a quick answer nor uncomplicated but these are things I deeply believe in. I hope that those who don't believe respect my choices and won't ask me not to say the Pledge or honor our Flag because I have a right to those freedoms as much as they have a right not to participate in them.

If you end up serving our country I hope you remember this and the millions of people who believe in the Flag and recite the Pledge. I hope you think about your grandfather and his optimism, his belief in our country. If you are out of our country and see the Flag I hope it represents all of the wonderful things about our country and gives you a sense of patriotism in the face of confusing and difficult times in the world. A sense of purpose and right, a sense of humanity and the greater good. Thanks for asking me the question and reminding me of all of the things I wrote about.

With much love, Aunt A.