Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes!

That old David Bowie song is floating through my mind these days...why?

Because out of the blue, my partner and I have a burr up our butts to re-decorate our home. Complete with painting and re-arranging furniture. Anytime you move your surroundings, that means that changes are happening within yourself.


Change is always good....at least, I like to think so. We're also feeling more settled and ahem...older. Instead of Melissa Ethridge or Bon Jovi rocking our world, it's now David Bromstead (of HGTV fame). I'll let you know the changes as I discover them....it will feel much like looking for 4 leaf clovers!

David Bromstead of HGTV (isn't he gorgeous?)

Let's face it, my life doesn't exactly suck. I have a job that I absolutely ADORE, I make enough money to pay my bills, I love my partner dearly and my beloved animals and I feel...comfortable. I have what I need and have more than I thought I would ever have in my life.


Life is good.





More Musings Later-

A Night with an Extra Long and a Medium

I'm counting the moments until Saturday night. In case you haven't been reading this blog, I have tickets to see Lisa Williams at the Ryman Auditorium Saturday evening.

Williams is a medium that is unbelievably accurate when giving a reading. Now there is every chance that she won't be drawn to doing a reading for me, but then again, there is every chance she WILL. It's all in how you look at it. I'm very anxious to see what comes of it.

Also, to place the evening in a extra fun mode, I rented a limo for me, my partner, a friend and my Mom and Sister. Between all of us, we have Multiple Sclerosis, Parkinson's, Cancer, herniated discs, a torn disc and an artificial knee. So, a limo to stretch out in and relax made sense.

Before hand, we'll stuff ourselves silly with Italian food at Maggianos and leave it to our driver to mess with traffic and time schedules. Then, we'll move on to the legendary Ryman with pillows underneath our butts to ease the hardness of the pews.

Can I get an Amen?

More Musings Later-

6235 Adams and 2 sisters

Yesterday I went to Vanderbilt Medical Center with my sister. She had an appointment to get a port placed in her chest for chemotherapy and radiation treatment for the next several weeks.

We are very different from each other, yet we are so much alike, it's scary! For instance, we have the same sense of humor. We both adore dry wit. We both like to make fun of Rachael Ray and anyone else that is too perky for their own good.

As we laughed and talked yesterday, it made me think of how far we've both come. For some reason, I still think of myself as 12 years old and she is 16. I guess it's a sister thing. As you can tell, she is fighting the cancer with a vengance and she is fighting it not only for herself, but for my mother, me and all her friends.

I silently marveled as her phone was going off non-stop with text messages of encouragement and a repetitive message of "We LOVE you!". How wonderful. I look at her and see a grown woman going through some of the crap life hands you sometimes. I look at myself in a mirror and see that I'm not the 12 year old kid sister anymore. I'm so proud of her and I try to be supportive. I'm thrilled to say her friends are literally tripping all over themselves to be just as supportive or even moreso.

Both of us have matured and somehow morphed into adults. Yet, I think that our growing up years on 6235 Adams is what propelling her forward. For all the times we had to kneel in the hall for punishment where I was looking over to my older sister as she rolled her eyes and rattled off a commentary on "how lame" the knee punishment was. I thought she was the bravest person I'd ever known.

For all the times that I missed a curfew and our mom punished me by making me ride the bus to school in the morning for a week. Yet, as I walked to the bus stop, I saw my sister's car pulling up to offer me a ride once we were out of view from my mother's watchful eye. Again, I thought she was so brave to disobey my mother by helping me out.

Each time as we grew up, she would do something to make me feel that she was the bravest person in the world.

She's done it again. You watch, she'll kick the cancer's ass and not even break a sweat doing it. She's the bravest person I know...still.

Would YOU pray, send good thoughts etc. to her?

Check her blog out: "Every problem has a gift for you in its hands."

P.S. Mom, don't get mad. Remember, all this happened a long time ago! Don't ground us!!! LOL

More Musings Later-

P Diddy, Doc Hollywood and Me

About a week or so ago, I had the pleasure of interviewing my P Diddy Doctor, AKA "Doc Hollywood".

You're probably asking yourself, What in the hell is a P Diddy Doctor?

"P Diddy" is my nickname for Parkinson's Disease. Other people think I am referring to a rapper. It's all the same, only I don't rhyme when I have my symptoms.

Anyway, I freelance for Parkinsons Hope Digest and they are running the series. You're probably thinking, I do believe I'd rather watch paint dry than interview a neurologist about Parkinson's. I hear you. But, I LOVE my P Diddy Doctor! And, I will give you the type of conversation we had that didn't make it into the Hope Digest. Photography by: Mindy Schwartz.

Me: When you diagnosed me, you seemed to nail it almost immediately. How were you able to determine a firm diagnosis right away?

Doc H'wood: I'm good.

Me: Don't give me that! I'm not writing that down.

Doc H'wood: Whatever! (laughing) (Then he launches into his diatribe of neuro dialogue).

Doc H'wood: She keeps taking pictures of me. What should I do? Pose?

Dr. Martin Wagner, AKA Doc Hollywood

Me: Act natural if that is possible.

Doc H'wood: Ok. (He continues pontificating about getting honors in all his neurology and psychology classes at Baylor University.)

Me: You went to some excellent schools. I can almost see your brain throbbing from knowledge. Your receptionist told me you went to the "Domenican Republic Brain Academy, specializing in P Diddy disease."

Doc H'wood shoots me a look.

Me: Kidding. Take a joke, Doc! (He is laughing at me)

Doc H'wood: Nice shirt

Me: I think of you each time I wear it. It's better than wearing the other one I have...

Doc H'wood: What happened?

Me: I wore my 'I'm not getting jiggy with it, I have Parkinson's" shirt to the Opryland Hotel. I arrived at peak blue hair time (senior citizen time=4pm). They were PISSED. They followed me all over that hotel and fussed at me! I couldn't convince them I had the disease! They thought I was making fun of them. Jeez, if you can't laugh at yourself....

Doc H'wood: I wished I could have seen that.

I shoot HIM a look.

Me: That's why I like you. I remember the first and only time I complained about having Parkinson's to you.

Doc H'wood: What did I say? I don't remember.

Me: I was moaning about it one day during my appointment and I noticed you weren't saying anything. I looked up at you and you handed me my scripts and said, "Yeah, it sucks." I left your office and sat in my car and laughed until I cried!

Doc H'wood: You're weird. Not really, you crack me up!

Me: Really?

Doc H'wood: No.

More Musings Later-

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UPDATE: My sister's cancer HAS NOT spread! We are all faithfully praying for her and will continue to do so. I would be grateful if readers of this blog would pray, send good thoughts, etc. for her as well. Read about her journey HERE: "Every problem has a gift for you in its hands."

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