Before Breast Cancer Diagnoses
For more than fifty years, the only OLOGIST in my life was the GynecOLOGIST.
Annually, I scheduled appointments for three health care examinations. One with the GynecOlogist; and, the other two were for a yearly physical examination and mammogram.
For years, I chose to ignore the potential health hazards of being:
In 1993, I was diagnosed with two chronic conditions — Rheumatoid Arthritis and Fibromyalgia. Now, I needed a second “OLOGIST,” the RheumatOLOGIST.
With these two diagnoses, the frequency of visits for health care treatment increased from three followup exams per year to monthly followup visits, bi-monthly lab testing, and a host of prescribed medications.
After being diagnosed, with two chronic health conditions, I made some healthy lifestyle choices. I —
But, I failed to address some of the other health hazards —
Despite the continued health hazards in my life, for more than fifteen years, my two chronic health conditions were adequately managed and controlled with —
Then, the Breast Cancer diagnosis came in 2008.
After Breast Cancer Diagnosis
Medication Side Effects
Between 2008 and 2013, I was diagnosed with five different health care conditions.
Each diagnosis, including breast cancer, was attributed to a side effects from a different medication; and, all were prescribed to treat Rheumatoid Arthritis.
To treat these conditions, I had to add five more OLOGISTS to my healthcare team:
There may even be a sixth OLOGIST, after my consultation visit in two weeks with a DermatOLOGIST. A cluster of bumps appeared on the right side of my face several weeks ago. This may be a side effect of a new Rheumatoid Arthritis medication; which, was added to replace one that was discontinued because of a side-effect that affected my lungs. I will share the results of this visit in an upcoming post.
Despite the side effects and added health care conditions, I AM Thankful for the OLOGISTS in My Life
And, when, I Grow Tired of the OLOGISTS, I
And, quietly say, “I LIVE Because of the OCOLOGISTS in My Life.
What I Want for Everyone
I WISH that every underinsured or uninsured person, in this country, one day will have access, like me, to OLOGISTS and other health care providers.
Today, I am grateful for gifting me — my first rocking chair.
I visited my grandparents, as a child, every summer in Mississippi. On their front porch, sat four rocking chairs. One, reserved for my Grandfather; and, the other three were on a first come-first rock basis. I liked to read and listen to the sounds made by the rocker as I rocked on the wooden floor.
Love of the rocking chair resurfaced in my mid-fifties. While I didn’t buy a rocking chair, I couldn’t bypass a rocking chair at a Cracker Barrel Restaurant, furniture store, or an airport without sitting down and enjoying a rock or two.
For the past five years, I enjoyed rocking for seven straight days in rocking chairs on the front porch of the house we rent for our Mother-Daughter Vacations in Martha Vineyards
There are only two rocking chairs on the front porch in Martha’s Vineyard. Both daughters enjoy the rocking chairs, but when I am present — one rocking chair is for Mama. Like, my grandfather, I appreciate my rocking chair privilege. I view it as one of the many gifts of love from my daughters.
After returning from vacation this year, I didn’t want to wait another year to rock in the chairs at the rental house in Martha’s Vineyard or the rocking chairs at the Boston Airport.
Also, I didn’t want to rely on random rocks in public places for the next year. So, I gifted ME a rocking chair for reading and relaxing throughout the year.
Since I was not able to find a rocking chair locally to coordinate with the furniture on our lanai, I ordered one through the internet. It’s perfect. All I need to find is a seat cushion.
I can’t close this post without expressing gratitude to Hubby for assembling my rocking chair. (Side Note — Maybe, after reading this, he will assemble my new potting table delivered this past week and is still boxed up in the foyer.)
Most of all, I am grateful to God for his unconditional love, which has opened my life up to experiencing self-love.
“Mothers and Daughters are Closest, when Daughters Become Mothers”
I am grateful this Sunday to begin the week in the presence of my two daughters as we begin our Fifth Annual Mother-Daughter Vacation in Martha’s Vineyard.
Especially, grateful for the gift of these precious moments with my daughters to:
In 1998, the eldest daughter purchased and had this swing play set erected in her backyard. I said, “Oh, this is great for the grands. Little did I know how much happiness and joy this swing play set would open my life up to.
Location #1
During the summer months, the swing play set area was where I spent quality one-on-one time with my grandchildren.
Their play set activities quickly expanded beyond swinging, climbing, and sliding.
And the creative, spontaneous and impromptu activities took over. I began to wonder whether, “Did my children lack imagination as kids? Or, are these grandkids little creative geniuses?”
The two partially closed-off areas of the play set was their stage; and, they gifted me with self-directed, memorable, and creative performances in many:
Eventually, the older two grandchildren lost interest. And the swing play set stayed childless in the eldest daughter’s backyard for several years.
Location #2
The eldest daughter decided to gift the swing play set to her sister; and, it moved to a new backyard.
Happy summer days again, sitting in youngest daughter’s backyard sharing new swing play set experiences with my youngest grandson, CJ. This neighborhood was more child friendly and the swing play set was a magnet to attract other boys in CJs age range.
They competed; and, I acted as the judge to select the:
Now, a 14-year-old, CJ backyard activities revolve around soccer and basketball. So, several weeks ago, youngest daughter gifted the swing play set to her brother.
Location #3
The play set is now in the backyard of the home we own in Wisconsin. After we retired and relocated to Florida, our son moved into the house with his five-year-old daughter.
Though, I will not spend the same amount of time with Cupcake, as she explores and discovers different swing play set activities; I will patiently wait until next summer to have this special experience with her.
Why the Traveling Swing Play Set Is Important
This swing set has been a part of my life for more than sixteen years; and, I am happy that it now sits in the backyard of our Wisconsin home for our youngest granddaughter.
Ultimately, Cupcake will outgrow the swing play set, When this happens, I hope it moves to a new place, that will bring happiness and joy to other children and their families
I am grateful to my four grandchildren for my past, present and future memories of spending time with them on The Traveling Swing Play Set.
A gardener, I am not. But, when I retired to Florida more than four years ago, I decided our lanai was too cold and sterile. So to add life, I purchased a few plants to bring color and life into this space.
Since that time, the container garden has gotten bigger and bigger. Daily, I retreat to My Healing Garden to meditate, pray, and be still.
My Healing Garden Photos
“Today is a free writing day. Write at least four-hundred words, and once you start typing, don’t stop No self-editing, no trash-talking and no second guessing: just go.”
Fond Memories: Chicago’s South Side
Following the July 4th weekend, the news out of Chicago reported over 60 shootings, leaving sixteen dead, including a 60-year-old woman walking up the stairs to enter her home.
Most of this gun violence is coming out of the South Side of Chicago. I grew up on the South Side in the 1950s. There were gangs but they fought with their fist, with a rare, rare shooting or knifing targeted at a rival gang member.
Unlike today, where the gun violence in Chicago is rampant, the neighborhood I grew up in was a safe haven for the people who lived there.
Summer Memories
I have fond memories of my childhood on the South Side of Chicago.
In the summer months, days were filled with outdoor games that kept us children involved in some type of activity from morning til night. Some of my favorites were:
We slowed down around 8:00 pm and would sit talking on one of our front porches until our parents called us in.
Best Girlfriend
I was three years older than my best girlfriend, Jackie. For some reason, the difference in our age was never a reason. We were in and out of each other’s homes daily. I was an only child. But, Jackie had seven sisters and two brothers.
On Fridays I always managed to end up at Jackie’s house for dinner. Each week, the menu was either Spaghetti and Meatballs, Hamburger and French Fries, or Chili-Mac.
In retrospect, the last thing this large family of eleven needed was another mouth to feed.
Jackie and I remained close until I left the neighborhood to enter a new phase of life as an army wife.
63rd & Halsted
I lived about three blocks from 63rd and Halsted — the major shopping area for the South Side of Chicago. There were large retail stores like Sears, Goldblatt’s and Wieboldt’s. Smaller clothing and shoe stores — both high-end and budget. The two places, I liked to browse were Kreske’s Five and Dime and Grants where I could always find something to buy with my small weekly allowance.
My Last Visit
Under the Chicago Urban Renewal Program, my old neighborhood was demolished back in the late 1960s. My last visit was probably around 1975. Driving through, I felt disconnected because what I remembered was no longer there.
My Wish
I wish the families now living in my old neighborhood are blessed with a new Chicago Urban Renewal Program that will address the issues they face on a daily basis — poverty, inadequate housing, inferior education, crime, and gun violence.
Yesterday, I completed the assignment for my Writing 101 class, which was to “Go to a local cafe, park, or public place and report on what you see. Get detailed and leave no nuance behind.”
After spending an unbelievable amount of time writing, what I think, was an adverb-free post, I pushed the publish button. Then, I received this comment from a very loyal and supportive follower:
“These writing assignments are good, but I miss
the blogs that you post —
just because you just want to share
an experience with us that is
meaningful to you.”
I signed up for the Writing 101 Class to improve my writing skills. But, this follower’s comment stayed on my mind.
This class would improve my skills as a writer; but, was becoming a better writer high on the list of my blogging priorities? The answer was, no.
A statement in a post that I published on April 13, 2014 confirms this:
“I am neither a writer nor an author, but I wish to blog about my life.”
The class took time away from my true purpose as a blogger, which was to share my life experiences with those who might have an interest in the past, present, and future thoughts of an African-American female living in this season of her life.
Even before writing my first blogpost on January 13, 2013, I spent months looking for just the right words to express why I chose to create a blog. I came up with this:
“During this last season of my life, I am going on a journey to define ME. Opening up and going outside my comfort zone to redefine my life. Exploring and pursuing new interests that will lead to personal happiness, serenity, and tranquility,”
I plan to audit the on-line daily writing assignments as well as review the recommended readings; and, I may even write a post. But, I must stay true to my purpose for blogging.
Thank you to The Librarian, a loyal follower, supporter, and most of all, a close friend. You saw me heading down a path, which you knew was taking me away from my planned my journey.
Whoopee!!! I just received notification that I can take advantage of an instant transport to wherever I want to go. I selected my favorite vacation spot, an island on the East Coast, surrounded by the Atlantic Ocean, and accessible only by air or ferry.
While this instant transport is faster, I requested a drop-off at the Ferry. For the ferry ride is the high point of my dream vacation.
Even though it is only a 15-20 minute ride, it’s the Atlantic Ocean.
And, so what if the ferry is old, dingy, and lacks the luxuries of a cruise ship, it’s the Atlantic Ocean and I am cruising.
What’s I like about the ferry ride is:
So excited, I am going to my paradise, an island overflowing with:
Yes, I am going to a serene and tranquil place reminiscent of the days before the large chain-like:
Looking forward to slowing down, being still, and welcoming the peace, happiness and joy of an Island vacation.
This is my representation of A Room with a View – Martha’s Vineyard.
In the post last week, I shared Day One and Day Two of Happy Time with The Librarian who came for a four-day visit.
Though, exhausted after a full day of activities on Day Two; I woke up at 5:00 a.m. ready to start Day Three of Happy Time. The Librarian and I were going to Cocoa Beach, despite the rain, forecasted to last the entire day. However, unlike the second day with the two broken umbrellas; we, were prepared with four newly purchased umbrellas — two golf sized and two minis. 
Pre-Beach Happy Time
Take a look at Hubby’s Photo, one would think he was going to Cocoa Beach. But, Hubby dislikes sand, being in the rain, and should the rain stop — he really, really does not enjoy being in the sun. So, he only agreed to join us breakfast.
We had breakfast at one of my favorite restaurants located in Winter Park, Florida a short drive from where we live.
This beautiful sculpture was on display in the park across the street from the restaurant. Since this was the first time I had seen an alphabet sculpture, I wanted to know more. So, I went to GOOGLE IMAGES and keyed-in “alphabet sculptures around the world.” I did not count the number of sculptures created in different sizes, shapes, and materials.
Cocoa-Beach Happy Time
Breakfast over. Hubby back home. We are off to Cocoa Beach which is about 60 miles from my home. We arrived. It was still raining. But we, along with a few other brave hearts, were at the beach. Let the day begin.
But one, last stop before we go.
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