This is my mother-in-law! She’s a super tough lady who kicked cancer’s butt! Go like her story and show your support!
My cancer battle started in early February 2005, at the age of 44, when a doctor felt a lump in my left breast, almost to the armpit, that I had not felt on my own. A film mammogram, with the lump marked with a metal “BB”, showed nothing, not even a shadow, so we realized I had very dense breast tissue. The only family member that had breast cancer before me is my paternal aunt, who fought the battle well in the early ‘90’s, which had harder chemo and radiation treatment at the time. I started getting mammograms at age 40 because of her experience, but it was really interesting to hear doctors say that I shouldn’t be worried, since my aunt was on my Dad’s side; so much for that advice. Any family history should be taken into consideration- remember that ladies!
After a whirlwind of initial activity of…
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On a personal note:
I am the momma of four beautiful rescue kitties. Two of them were on purpose, and two of them just happened. Let me introduce you.
This is Ellie. She’s my baby and my guard kitty. She sleeps with me and won’t let any of the other kitties near me. If she catches me petting any of the other cats she gives me the cold shoulder for hours. I got her first, when I was single and planning my life as a crazy old cat lady.
This is Angel. She is a Russian Blue and quite possibly the softest thing on the planet. I got her 6 months after Ellie. One of my friends worked at the Humane Society and asked me to take her because she was scheduled to be euthanized. Of course I had to take her! She’s been a challenge. She has some behavioral issues. But we love her anyway.
This is Tiny. Jacob, my husband, wanted his own cat after we got married, since my cats ignore him, unless they want food. So we went and got Tiny from a shelter that rescues animals from kill shelters. She was rescued twice! When we got her, her name was Serendipity, but she was so little and sickly when we got her home that we started calling her Tiny and it stuck. She’s not so tiny anymore, though.
This is Zoe. She’s our accidental kitty. Jacob was getting gas in South Carolina, when a cute little kitty walked up and started climbing his leg. He called me all flustered because he didn’t know what to do. We decided to check with the gas station attendants first. They said that people just drop animals off there hoping that someone will pick them up. So that’s what he did. We were going to feed her and clean her up and take her to a shelter the next day. But as soon as I saw her I knew there was no way we could give her away. She is the cutest, sweetest cat we’ve ever met. (Shhh… Don’t tell the other kitties I said that.)
I know I should be blogging on a regular basis so I can attract more viewers and whatnot, but I just don’t feel that I’m all that interesting. Perhaps I’m wrong. You be the judge. Here’s a list of things I’ve been doing:
After more than 30 years of making art, I’m finally on my way to selling some. I hope. Kinda.
Well, here’s the thing. I’ve given away tons of art, but when it comes to selling it, I have some sort of mental block. It’s like I’m showing people my dirty underwear and inviting them to judge me. Yes, part of it is the judgement. But there is more to it. Much more.
I went to see Vic Muniz speak at the local art museum recently. (He’s amazing. Check out his documentary “Wasteland.”) He said that when artists say they only do art for themselves, they are lying. Why do art if you don’t want people to see it? Mr. Muniz, I must disagree. Art, for me, is the blood in my veins. You can’t see it (usually), but it keeps me alive. Without art I would die. So, every chance I get, I do something to inspire me, to give my brain the outlet it needs.
But, here’s the problem. I get sick to my stomach just thinking about trying to sell anything I’ve made. My head starts spinning, I can’t breath. Wait. Is this a panic attack? I think it is. Honestly, I would feel more comfortable throwing my stuff in the trashcan than trying to sell it.
What the hell is my problem?!?!?!?!
So, my husband (who loves my art and thinks I’m the best artist in the world) found an independent book store that supports local artists. He showed them photos of my works and they said they would love to have them in their store. That’s amazing! They are coming in on their day off to look at my stuff. I should be over the moon! Instead, I feel like I’m gonna throw up and it’s 6 am and I haven’t slept at all.
No, seriously. What the hell is wrong with me?
Since I can’t sleep, I decided to start a blog. I’m not going to let this nonsense keep me from being who I want to be any longer. This is the start
of something new for me. Even if I’m too tired to stand up, and have to pull over 50 times on the way there to throw up, I’m going to meet with the book store owners. I want to document this journey. I want to be accountable for my future actions. I want to know there are people out there counting on me to keep my word.
So, I’m saying this now. Whatever this psychosis is, I’m going to fight it, until I can quit being a bartender and start being a real artist. This is my mission.