The Story Continues

John 7: 16-17 "Jesus answered them, and said, My doctrine is not mine, but his that sent me.

If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself."

The Story Continues

The story continues. As you know I've been having side effects from Herceptin; pretty major ones too, and I was fearing to go to the doctor. Earlier in the month I had my issues, Hubby had his unending cold/pneumonia, the road crew had their issues with digging up the roads after the flood and my house had its problems with the toilet leaking water all over the floor, in the basement and also the roof needing a major renovation, not having been done in twenty years or so. Then there was the sale of the property and the takeover by the new landlord. Whew, what a month of May, and it isn't even over yet.

The month May blew in with winter still hot on its heels. Yes, winter, meaning 35 degrees at night, meaning heater clicking on during the day, meaning cold in this drafty old house. I don't even know what issue to tackle first. How about small to big? 

The flood. Washed out roads all over Nebraska and we being way on the outskirts of town saw our road dwindle and wash away. The graders who tried to grade the road saw there was nothing to grade so a new plan was in place and that was to the pave the old dirt road after I don't know how many years. I know it's been a wish of mine for some time. That was at the end of March and beginning of April but storms and cold kept them from work. A month later in the middle of May, we're now seeing signs of the paved road and people can almost go back to normal. Almost...still a five-mile detour routes and we wait.

The house sale. Sitting at my desk my husband turned to me from his desk announcing, "Well it looks like it's been sold." I knew he was referring to this, I think it was 124 acres of land, out here for sale with our houses on it. I didn't know whether to be happy or relieved that someone might finally come and take care of the place. 

Let me refresh your memory. There's my neighbor, who has a nice house but seeing she is hoarder, that niceness gets swallowed up by what we might deem as trash. Then there is the trailer she once rented but kept for her, at one time four dogs, which all have passed except for one. But pallets and empty blowing flower pots, cars and trucks ruin that of ever becoming anything but a trash heap. Hopefully, someone saves the dog.

The landlord came and introduced himself a week later and he seemed like a nice enough man with his wife in tow. I'll just call them Jed & Josie. Good Christian folks too. I don't know, there is something about Christians that exude a living God and well by no mention of religion but casually mentioned they attended church on Sunday, I felt they were good people. He said he'd like to have our dilapidated roof looked at right away before it ever becomes a problem. I like him already!

Year after year each time an internet guy went on the roof he informed us to inform the owner of the bad roof, but nothing was ever done. The old landlord would come around and plow the grass after it got waist high, and trim trees, but year after year the grass and trees came back in full force.

Not this year, this year would be a different year! It would be the year of floods, rain, cold, and nothing but my Salvia flowers survived. That's how cold it got, everything froze under there. May 19th finds us rising to 40 degrees with 38 windchills and our small space heater coming in handy. Mind you it was in the eighties all week.

And wouldn't you know it, this was the week that the toilet would leak, through the roof, to the basement and an ensuing mess followed. This landlord was not concerned with a patch job on the toilet, like the previous landlord had been for years, no, he wanted to rip up the floor, have the toilet fixed and new tile laid! He wasted no time!

Now the roof. What should have taken one day to redo, they were met with numerous patch jobs from the previous owner, and had a four-day job on their hands! They were going to come Wednesday but changed it to Thursday. Thursday at six am. they arrived. By afternoon it was quite obvious the job would not be done in a day and by Sunday after much death of plants and destruction of what little garden I had, was now gone.

And to top it off, the owner on Saturday decided to rip down thirty-year-old trees that were breaking up concrete in his huge shed. The trees needed to come down. But on the day of the roofers? My anxiety hit an all-time high and an attack ensued. I was being picky, wasn't I? I had tolerated the barbaric treatment of my garden for three days but this day hubby had to work. 

I was good the other days sleeping through much of the chaos but Saturday, the neighbor who was now roofer, allowed his kids over and the screaming kids and hollering men mixed with hammering, banging, and heavy machinery moving trees, yanking trees out by the roots, and 100lb. me in a wheelchair. The pain was at an all-time high, everything happening blindly overhead and the curtains weres drawn tightly closed so as not to see the animosity surrounding me. Hubby came home around two pm. to make sure I was okay and I wasn't. Full-blown anxiety attack!

I won't share the ugliness of it all but by Sunday I was feeling somewhat better, but guess what, by the end of Sunday it started to rain and they were ALMOST finished. Really just a matter of cleaning their mess which they would tie down and come for on Monday. Monday came...and they didn't.

The owner came Monday, in the rain and had his Bobcat move a lot of the material tied down, and a bucket to the roofers' other piece of equipment. One trailer still smashing my plants and garden ornaments stayed (about twenty-foot long) and another sits out in the middle of the lawn smashing the saturated grass.

Chin up, Joni! Two doctor appointments today and one tomorrow, you NEED your strength for the unfinished paved but muddy roads. The Lord has tossed me a cyclone and I'm making a small tornado out of the situation. I have no choice. I'm sick, the events are upon me and I have to move on. We still have two more days to get through and the weatherman says about two-and-a-half inches of rain before all is said and done, on a state that has already declared flood disaster. Lord be with me NOW!

Prov. 4:10-11 "Hear, O my son, and receive my sayings; and the years of thy life shall be many. I have taught thee in the way of wisdom; I have led thee in right paths.

25-26 Let thine eyes look right on, and let thine eyelids look straight before thee.

Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be established."

Salvia

OPTIMISM: A New Day

Pss. 34:4 I sought the LORD, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.

Optimism: A New Day

For the past two and a half weeks I’ve been walking around in a veiled fog. My brain couldn’t wrap itself around the simplest of things. I knew without the Oral Chemo I would start to fail. I don’t know why the nurse assumed, two weeks ago, I would jump right into the chemo Herceptin, she knows me and has been working with me for seven months but she went ahead and stopped all further shipments of my meds and didn’t, it sounds to me, get the doctors okay. He wanted me back on what I had left here at home, pronto! And as soon as I started taking it again, my body, muscles, and brain all connected, finally.

I was angry and bitter at just about anyone I came in contact with. I put up a good front (or not) but I muddled through each and every day. If you’ve been reading my blog over the years, you know I am an optimist at heart. I take everything to the Lord and listen ONLY to Him. Not my husband, son, doctors or family can tell me anything, I listen to God and wait for what He has to say ALL of the time.

This instance was no different as I told you last week. I prayed, I heard, and I listened. I also told you I didn’t like the answer I got and for that, I became bitter and disgruntled and in all honesty, ready to pick out my urn! Just an FYI: I want the cover of Dark Side of the Moon on it. Inscription will say: "I'll see you on the dark side of the moon."

Pss. 34:6 "This poor man cried, and the LORD heard him and saved him out of all his troubles."

God wants me to go the Herceptin route and for the life of me, I cannot conceive why. Why would He do this to me? Why can’t I just be healed like everyone imagines how healing is done? You don’t have to answer that I already know the answer. GOD DOES NOT WORK THAT WAY! 

With all of the healthy eating and supplementation, my body was being prepared to handle what the damaging poison would do to my system. It’s a fact that chemo destroys, it’s a fact that we have the power within ourselves to heal so we need to step up and take action to see healing through. I worked hard to build up my immunity and it may just be time to see if it is strong enough for the poison while the poison attacks the C cells. A science project in motion, if you will.

My body was ready for the Oral Chemo. After sifting through the lies that the doctor told, I had no idea the Oral Chemo was a short term route. I was led to believe ‘that I would see ANOTHER Christmas’. Well, if I don’t go the Herceptin route, I might not see another Christmas!

I have said over and over and over again, this illness is not like a cold. You eat some soup, take some vitamin c and you’re all better. There is no clear indication that just changing your diet to an organic plant-based and taking supplements is the secret to healing the Big C! I’ve NEVER EVER said that or misled anyone to believe that. I made it perfectly clear that there is an entire chasm of healing tools and chemo is NOT the only way to go either! And also, cancer is NOT the death sentence that doctors would like you to believe it is, it’s an enemy of your system, but it is YOUR system, your body, your healing, no one else can heal you but God and you!

The women I see healing alternatively have money, the choice of fine doctors at their fingertips, chiropractors, have been to the clinic in Mexico, have access to the UV saunas, have within their reach the ability to afford all the crazy organic Plant Based food, and many live in states where Medicinal Cannabis is legal. They have family supporting them and maybe they’ve never had a life of trauma. Yes, I know, we’ve all had hard lives but again TRAUMA is different than losing a dog when you were a kid or being whooped because you were bad. TRAUMA is stress that needs tender loving care to get through and it doesn’t happen in a meditation session, or on a psychologists sofa, or with drugs! There are elements to healing this disease that the poor impoverished person has a much deeper struggle to contend with.

So with that, yesterday I woke with an answer. Optimism! I’ve had a gung-ho attitude through all of this but in recent weeks my pep pooped out! Today, my poop got pepped! Ewww. Wait. Today my perk got prepped! Yeah, that sounds better. God said to me if I go into chemo thinking it’s going to destroy and kill me, by all means, it will. If I go in with the optimism that this is just another supplement (albeit a poisonous one) needed in my healing then we’ll find success, then so be it! We’ll find healing! 

God is not a God of fear tactics and scare traits. He wants me to see this as a love potion to add to all of my other healthy eating, exercising, and supplementation. This is just an odd leg of the journey that I did not want to accept. You heard me right, I didn’t like what God wanted me to do! After asking for forgiveness in my doubting Him and asking Him to hold my hand and lead the way, He shouted, OPTIMISM! We’ll walk with optimism so I can see a new day every day and see many more Christmas’! 

I don’t have to do what the doctor says, I’m in the passenger seat of this vehicle and God is my Almighty Driver! The doctors fear tactics have me on this Herceptin for years, ten to twenty. Look, people, I’m not a prisoner doing ten to twenty years for something I didn’t do. I am going to show the world that this disease can be licked, all wounds healed and scars tended to. Years down the line, the scars will be minimal with caressing, rubbing, touching, acknowledging and coming face to face with what brought them to me. 

My mantra will continue - I am HEALED, I am Healthy and I am WELL! 

All praise and Glory to my God! 

Pss. 34:1 "I will bless the LORD at all times: his praise shall continually be in my mouth."

Crossroad to Confusion

Exodus 4:11-12 (NIV) “The LORD said to him, ‘Who gave human beings their mouths? Who makes them deaf or mute? Who gives them sight or makes them blind? Is it not I, the LORD? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.’” 

Okay, so here I am reopening my blog writing again and you might be asking yourself why. Well let me tell you my story, yet again. The Big C came into my life on a black horse carrying with it fear and uncertainty. That was January 25th, 2017 when I got the official diagnosis. Now in all of my research, I learned that the C cells were awakened seven to ten years earlier when they were as small as a dust mote and no possible sign of them being seen even with the finest equipment in the 21st century!

I’m not going to rehash the entire story, you can read it here with this link and all of 2017 if you wish but fast-forwarding to 2019, after I was told I was stage 4, that the C cells had metastasized, meaning they spread to my bones, my liver and I have no clue where else. Doctors are funny that way, they tell you snippets of what THEY want in little increments of fear, so you stress and worry yourself, literally to death. But I have something no doctor has and that is FAITH in the Lord my God!

Yes, I know some doctors have faith but I can assure you, they think they are doing God’s work for Him. Maybe they are and maybe they are not, that is not for me to judge. They are NOT the God I listen to. In my heart and my soul, no doctor’s fear penetrates me so much that I override what the Lord tells me and says for me to do.

Around the time of my femur break, I was placed on (OC) Oral Chemo. That is not the same as chemotherapy, being hooked to a machine pumping poison into your system. This poison targets the estrogen positive cells going crazy in my body and attacks the little wanderers in other places.

My markers were extremely high and the doctor really didn’t feel like this OC was going to work but after a month in the hospital, the pills, often not taken on a regular basis until I got home from the hospital, were showing signs of working. The oncologist who visited me in the hospital for the ten days that I was there kept pushing for me to do the port IV Chemo which I AM firmly against. I know it, God knows it, the doctors know it! But Dr. Biscuit, a colleague of my current Onc., was astounded that the little time I was on the OC, my tumor was shrinking and the markers were sliding DOWN the sliding board at record speed!

Markers are blood cell counts. White, red, and C cells. They tell the doctor what is going on inside the body. Dr. Biscuit didn’t want to agree with me that my strict diet adherence is what made my body accept the OC so well when thousands of women across the country were falling sick with vomiting, skin problems, diarrhea, and other side effects. I was an exemplary guinea pig if you will.

Miracle after miracle, my markers, month after month was going down. August-September they were at an all-time high of 2711 dropping to 350 by November. What my doctor failed to tell me was that December and January there was a slight increase in my C cells, not my White and Red ones, so I guess it didn’t draw concern at that time.

During those months I thought I was home free. My current oncologist told me to eat what I wanted to get my weight up and like a fool, I LISTENED to the doctor! As I sit here in February all the junk food, meat, dairy, carbs all toxins I hadn’t had for almost two years were in my body doing a little dance, unbeknownst to me, with my cells! I weigh the same that I weighed when I entered the hospital back in September. So the doctor was wrong in telling me to eat what I want.

I was told to stop my supplements back in September but was allowed my Vitamins A, B12, C, D3, and E. I stopped all supplementation except two that I felt were essential, Green Tea/Curcumin, turmeric/black pepper. The doctor on many occasions LAUGHED at me and made fun of my supplementation. I let it roll off my back because I took jabs at his bald head, so touché.

Also in these months, I’ve been attending Physical Therapy to regain the mobility that I lost when my femur popped out of my leg. Yeah, it was not a simple break, it was a total disaster and they really didn’t think I’d walk again after repairing the damage, but again, miraculously, I PROVED THEM WRONG! I’m walking with a walker and often with just my cane! 

The other day was my oncologist visit. It was the first time they’d seen me NOT in a wheelchair. The one assistant squealed like a little girl in amazement! 

“JONI! What’s this? You’re walking!” Squeals of delight and smiles from the other nurses as I passed and little murmurs of “Way to go!” could be heard as I was led into the docs office. Even the doctor smiled and said, “You’re looking good!”

In the room, the talk began, the banter if you will. Him making fun of me and me listening to his rhetoric on chemotherapy and how people die without it. THIS is when he mentioned my C cells rising. The OC had done its job and can do no more. This is also the time, six months later, that he tells me the OC was only supposed to work for three months. Here I was five-six months out, still looking good for a stage 4 patient. My white and red were ‘plateauing’ as he put it, an evening out.

I got home from the visit sad, not my peppy self when the phone rang as we walked in the door...

“The doctor needs to see you again. Your markers are up.” PA says to me. I said a Wednesday visit would be okay. 

I broke. The tears that had been stored up for a few months all unleashed when the floodgates opened. I had been doing so good, I’ve been soaring, walking, healing, feeling great and BAM! Slap me in the face kind doctor! 

I was angry. For the first time in my spiritual life, I was angry at God! I lost two children and didn’t feel the anger that swelled up inside of me at that very moment. I was not as well as I was led to BELIEVE I was. 

“WHY,” I cried, “why is all of this happening again. I just wanted a break, a reprieve from the stress of healing! I thought I was. I was being misled down a path?” The tears filled the trashcan to overflowing with Kleenex.

That night I did what I always do, I prayed. I apologized first and asked what He’d have me do. No answer. In the morning on Thursday, I prayed as I always do and talked with Him. I had said in jest that if it snows on Wednesday (or snow inhibiting my visit) then my answer was to just say no, to chemo! I looked at the weather and while snow was forecasted for Friday and Saturday, three to four inches, it was sunny and clouds all next week. A deep sigh left me still praying and wondering. What was I to do?

I was told by the docs office to not take any more pills and they called the pharmaceutical place and stopped delivery of further shipments. Great, I’m dangling out here, alone. HA! The jokes on them! I AM NEVER ALONE! I have an Almighty God! An intense faith in my spiritual life! It surpasses anything in this physical realm! I know my friends think I’m crazy, surely the doctor does too, but I have an AMAZING Healer in God! I cannot and will not lose my faith!

I woke Friday morning feeling eerily good. Two days in a row of PT wore me down, the doc visit shredded me to pieces and here I was Friday morning, snow blanketing the fields, and I’m feeling pretty good. Wednesday I tossed the drugs in the trash and resumed right then and there my supplementation. No more meat, back to the strict protocol that OBVIOUSLY worked FOR me and not against me!

On to reading my morning devotional emails. I was going to read ‘Verse of the Day’ first but I inadvertently hit Encouragement for the Day. In it was a story of a woman who had in-vitro fertilization and was told by her doctors that these last four embryos were ‘inferior’. In his YEARS of study, knowledge, and experience told these hope-filled parents that inferior embryos don’t ‘hatch’, so to speak.

She was on the sonogram table listening to THREE HEARTBEATS! From the email: “As I lay on that table, looking at the glowing screen, those three fluttering heartbeats told me what a doctor had labeled “inferior” was exactly the kind of thing God uses to accomplish His will.
Our doctor briskly entered the room, breathless and looking perplexed. “I really don’t know how this happened!” He exclaimed.”

What message was I, little Joni, getting from this? Let’s look at the accompanying scripture and you’ll see/read for yourself.

TRUTH FOR TODAY: Deuteronomy 31:6, “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.” (NIV)

Exodus 4:12, “Now go! I will help you speak, and I will teach you what to say.” (NCV)

I closed down my writing because I thought I was done, I could move on. As you see...God is not done with me yet! A look at next weeks weather? A 70% chance of snow on Tuesday. 

All praise and Glory to a Wonderful and Amazing God! 

Just in case you were wondering, this was the other message received today. Our God is an AWESOME God! From Charles Stanley: In Touch
Pss 23:1-6

Better Days: Powering Through

Hebrews 6:19 “Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast, and which entereth into that within the veil;” 

As I power through my story, I see some as a hard read and a lot is a hard write but I power through to give you the meat of the story as rich in detail as I vividly remember.

It has been four years since I found a lump in my breast, two years since diagnosis, and one year that the cosmos sucked away from me and I’m trying to piece the last year together to make sense of it all. If it’s a hard read for you, imagine living through it and cleaning up the mess you find.

I think I want to put my husband on a pedestal for a bit. When you marry and say words like ‘in sickness and in health’, you are not ever thinking that the day would arrive and you’d have to pull up your britches and show what you’re made of. Many times its the woman who comes through for the husband and quite often there are times when the husband has to stand up, be a man and take care of his wife in ways he’d never imagine.

When my husband went blind in 2009 I was hit with responsibilities I never knew before. I had to become his eyes. I was always the homemaker but he was the breadwinner and he was shot down as he became a disabled person, dependent on the money he put into the system. Dependent on me, in hopes I would stand by my man. We sailed through that storm and came out in calming seas as he had a cornea transplant and part of his sight was restored. Smooth sailing afterward, right? Wrong. 

Not long after his sight was restored, he lost his one eye because it was beyond repair. The system made us wait two years for the coverage of the operation and by that time it was too late. 

That is when my health started to fail. Not recognizing aches and pains for what they were, we just strolled along twenty-twelve and thirteen. Not without a bunch of doctor visits, mind you, until the dastardly lump made its appearance in twenty-fifteen and it was as if we were standing on top of a mountain being forced to slide all the way to the rocky bottom.

Twenty-fifteen was a year of loss. I lost three family members, one being my dad and my hubby lost an uncle. My medical needs would have to wait. When I finally had a chance to face the music, the diagnosis was grim. The doctor’s made sure fear would win this battle and that my God was not more powerful than they were. They LAUGHED at my faith. By twenty-eighteen I had the chance to at least smile in THEIR faces showing them that my God IS more powerful than they are! God and I are winning the battle.

My husband would step up to the plate and take on the nursing and caregiving. His mind wobbled from having the task of putting our beloved dog to sleep then BAM, I get worse and too much was tossed on his shoulders. I prayed. I had friends and family praying, not only for me but for him and my son who had to take on caring for their now disabled wife and mother.

In his panic, he would wash, dry and fold clothes, rearrange drawers, vacuum, and steam clean floors. He would do any and everything to occupy his mind as he dealt with this new routine he was forced into. Like I said, no one thinks that those words ‘in sickness and in health’ would slap them upside the head full force and hold them accountable, but rest assured, it will happen, often times in a quiet day! 

I was home from rehab, he would now readjust and hope beyond hope he was up to the task. While his mom wanted to help her baby and shoulder some of the burdens, he knew this was something that he’d have to do alone. A meal here and there from mom but the rest, lay at his feet wrinkled and unable to be folded. 

Weeks would pass and he struggled to remember the water or the grocery list, or place the claw close to me, or my walker or wheelchair within reach; sure he’d forget one or two things but would remember so much more. He was fighting this like a boxing champ in the fifteenth round, he was tired and worn, but would come out winning with a total KO!

Many men will say ‘I’d do it for my wife’ and many women will say ‘I’d do it for my husband’ but in truth, none of us know what we’re made of until something tragic happens and you have no choice but to stand up and fulfill that vow you took.

The past six months have taken their toll on us but as man and wife, circumstance has made us stronger as a couple. Every day that passes he sees in me the caretaker and homemaker he married, and even more so I see the husband I had every bit of faith in when I uttered the words sickness and health. 

May this be the year we both get to dance with health, we deserve to dance! 

Pss. 149:3 "Let them praise his name in the dance: let them sing praises unto him with the timbrel and harp."

Good and Bad Days: We All Have Them

Matt. 13:48 (KJV) “Which, when it was full, they drew to shore, and sat down, and gathered the good into vessels, but cast the bad away.”

Good days and bad days: we all have them

I’m sure we all have our good days and bad days; we know they’re bad when things go wrong and we see them as good when everything falls into place like a row of dominoes. While yes, I admittedly suffer from PTSD, I myself see more good days than bad and to me, they are all positive steps toward my healing. 

Jer. 29:11 (NIV) “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

As home slowly becomes more familiar to me, I feel the healing in the core of my being. The first few weeks though, of being home, felt like an unending carousel ride. That very first Monday I was Mrs. Popular in that everyone wanted a piece of me. I had calls from the home health nurse, the physical therapist, my oncologist office and the Cancer Center’s radiation office. Emails were sounding in from my mother in law wanting to come see me, sister in law auntie and uncle, everyone wanted a piece of this broken woman and how do I tell them all to just SHUT UP in a polite manner? 

My first Monday morning was an assertion day, I was going to take hold of my surroundings, my activities, and my appointments. I was not going to be TOLD to come here, or do this or do that, I would tell THEM what I was willing to do! I was going to take back what I lost!

First up, the home health nurse, Mandy, the woman I had only met on that day I was exiting in an ambulance, yes, she could come. Physical therapist, yes she was allowed. The oncologist? I’ll see you sometime next week. The radiation nurse, I asked if it could be put off for a week as I regained my bearings now that I was home. They were fine with that, setting me up the following week for my two (week) five-day sessions. Ten treatments in all to the healing left femur.

The emails were more targeted to my husband than me because it hurt to type on my laptop. I didn’t have a bend and stretch out mobility, I had a stiff-as-a-board-lay-there-and-be- good, semblance. Computer stuff would have to wait for a spell. I’d send out a 'hey' to friends and let them know I was still alive and as I knew they would be, they were more than understanding and just happy to know I was home. 

Monday was going along smoothly except for me missing my husband who had to go to work with worry on his mind trying to remember if I was set up well enough to be alone. Since we fibbed a little to get me home, I assured him I would be fine, and I was. As scary as the surroundings were, I was HOME and that was good enough for me! 

Now keep in mind, I had not bathed in twenty days. A wipe-down at the hospital but not a thing at the nursing home! Not a wipe, not a rag, nothing! I even used my own kleenex when I had to do my business. So when my mother-in-law wanted to bring his uncle to the house because he’d be ‘in town’, I had to say no way! I was not up to ‘visitors’, I needed to HEAL. I needed time! It all felt so rushed and the kaleidoscope began with its pretty colors and I was getting dizzy.

She said she understood but could her friend from church bring out food? I think she mentioned cookies or something. I told hubby to gently say, NEXT WEEK! Dang. I loved that everyone was so concerned, but I felt like the people who just lost a family member and friends would clamor to come over and bring food at the most inopportune time. Not to be rude but please send love, condolences and give them some space and time. Not a month, just breathing room. Please, don't turn this into how you lost someone and loved those people doing that for you. I appreciated EVERY bit of stirring also. I was suffocating and I needed to BREATHE! 

All appointments set, I slept. I slept and slept some more. Now it was time to move onto healing. The home health nurse brought me a hair-washing cap. You place it on your head, rub your fingers intensely and voila, your hair is water-free washed. It worked marvelously! She supplied an ample amount of body-wipes, and hubby he produced a bucket of water and a rag where I felt refreshing water on my face for the first time in twenty some days! Moving right along. 

I did have the nurse in tears, not bawling because they need to maintain distance and composure in their job, but her eyes were brimming at the sad painful story I’d tell. I had to get it off my chest so each person, professional or family, my story spilled into their ears and leaked from their eyes. They were shocked, then amazed at the strength I carried. I made it perfectly clear it surely was not me, it was God that they saw IN me! 

My healing was nothing short of astonishing to all who were witness to me. The radiation nurses saw me go from gurney to wheelchair within a week. From assisting me onto the slab to minimal help to no help needed at all. This was happening in a ten day period of time! 

My oncologist even showed signs of wonderment at my speedy recovery time. Not only my Oral Chemo and blood cell count healing time but my physical mobility healing time. All were displaying awe and wonder and were quite vocal in letting me know that this was nothing short of amazing. Doctor’s will not touch the ‘miracle’ label, but here I was, in their face, a living breathing healing miracle!

So as I have good days and bad days, it is all a part of the intricate veins of healing. People sometimes think healing happens in the blink of an eye but they need to know and understand how to appreciate the time and effort that goes into producing a work of wonder. Noah’s Ark wasn’t built in a day, the great Pyramids didn’t appear out of thin air and Jesus Himself took nine months to make a physical show. One step at a time is truly meant to be one breath at a time, and it is never our time, it is always His time. 

All praise and Glory to God! AMEN! 

Ecc. 3:11 (NIV) “He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”

The Story Begins - ER visit One

2 Cor.12:9 "And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly, therefore, will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me."

ER visit One...

The first ER visit was the one that got the pebble rolling wherever I was being led on this path. The ride of a lifetime was sweeping me into its arms. And so the journey began. I'm not going for time consistency right now and will get back to it at the editing phase and make the timeline more clear. After the first ER visit, everything seems a fog, it was the first time in many many years that a hardcore drug entered my body, Percocet.

I couldn't breathe that night, my chest seemed to be tightening, the air in my lungs minimal and by morning, Steven accidentally missing his alarm, called for him to be at home that day and me needing to be driven to the ER. We drove to the Emergency Room entrance, pivoting to a (hospital owned) wheelchair, making it from car to hospital sign in, the formality and tagging began. This is where my birthdate would be the most uttered words over the next couple of months.

The ER2, 3, and 4 were all maddening visits in their own stage. While in ER1 I was told what the x-ray had shown. That my disease had metastasized (spread) to my liver. "Mets to the liver," he said. I didn't blink. I sat, I stared and quite honestly thought, 'and so it begins'. Don't ask me what 'it' was, I hadn't figured that part out but was assured in the deepest depths of my being, my sacred place, that I would know, and also I would know when it was time to share.

I left the hospital in tears, only a cane in my hand and my husband by my side. A blur, that is the only way I can describe it. I felt like I wanted to shelter this news in a cocoon and allow only one or two (okay, maybe three) people know that I was now Stage 4? I think that's what they call it when it has spread. Hey, some is still a blur. I'm still in my healing phase. It was at this time that I was told that I should use a walker at all times and think about getting a wheelchair. I should also make an appointment with my GP (General Practitioner) if for my pain and my inability to breath should I need medication to continue. The spot, I was told, was pressing on my lungs, making it feel like the air was being restricted. My oxygen level was 97%. 

Rolling right along I went. I made a GP appointment and thus began the struggle between illness and law. She was hesitant in prescribing Percocet 'because of the 'LAW', so she prescribed a delicate drug that did minimal assistance to my pain. Being raised in MG's placed me in the ER again, the pain too much to bear.

ER2 found me visiting by my first ever ambulance ride. Unable to breathe and a lot of pain in my lower extremities. The meds my GP gave me, obviously were not working and little did I know that the Opioid crisis running rampant across the nation would imprison medication to aid me but could be prescribed for 30 days only, then its, "SUFFER American, your illness means nothing to us, we have a drug problem here!" My illness is defined by legalities, stigmas and the good old Almighty Dollar! UNLESS you find a caring doctor.  

This doctor had NO PROBLEM prescribing my medication. I am Stage 4, what's going to happen to me, I'm going to become addicted in a couple of months or worse overdose and die? Get in line, we're all going to die some way somehow eventually and DRUGS are NOT going to take ME down! BUT I was now given a choice. I was ‘encouraged’ to go the chemo route. I was gently nudged to an Oncologist. I also sat nodding my head in utter disbelief I was going through this. I needed my son and husband. I had no idea what to do.

I think this is where I hopped on the merry-go-round for a spell. FEAR wrapped its long fingers around my neck gripping with flames of fire. Messages, mixed and otherwise were scrambling through my head. I heard them but I could not discern. Surely enough, I was on the fatal merry-go-round from a Ray Bradbury novel.

Friends and family were getting concerned, seeing that this was my second visit to the ER after all. I made the decision to see an Oncologist. Miracles were evident and prayers were being answered at this time. Some people like instantaneous answers to prayers but I AM LIVING PROOF, prayers are answered in the most minute ways. You might not see Steven missing his alarm clock as an answered prayer, but had he been at work and I, home alone? ER visit 2 brought me to a possible third oncologist looking at my disease since last year.
Think about the ramifications had God not intervened.

To be continued…

“Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.” 1 Peter 4:10 (NIV)

I Need You To Know

Prov. 19: 20-21 (NLT) “Get all the advice and instruction you can, so you will be wise the rest of your life. You can make many plans, but the LORD’s purpose will prevail.” 

This week I was emotionally hit by someone who told me what I need to do with my body. It was a supposed dear friend who knows what I am enduring with this diagnosis of a lifetime. He went on to tell me that God wants me to take care of my body and I'm being selfish not thinking of my loved ones by not going the slice, dice, and radiate route. I told him that the chemo route could only give me five years and he said it was better than five months. He feels the route I'm taking is limiting me to five months time?

I don't know personally how this person listens to God, but I know how I do and how God listens and hears me! Throughout this slightly traumatic event that this supposed friend put me through, God has reached out through scripture, placing what I need to see and hear in front of my eyes, in my email, or just by chance. I don't believe in coincidence so I know it is God who is giving me messages and not the enemy of attack! God had my dear friends come out in full force of support for me and I know each of them to be Godly Christians, not the twice-a-year Christian. So who will I listen to? Dear friends who God sends or a supposed friend who a month ago told me to go climb back under my rock because I'm not wrapped up in this materialistic world as the rest of the people? I think you know the answer to that.

Friends, let me tell you. I did not make this decision blindly or loosely. I'm not one of those people whose child is dying and I don't take him to the hospital because God is the almighty healer and will fix it all! No, I prayed first and foremost at the beginning (and I still do, just so you know.) God sent me on this path! He heard my prayer and understood so He agreed to be here for me no matter how bumpy and craggy the road got. No matter how many people jumped out in front of me to try and instill fear in me, God would handle them and me! I have not wavered in faith one time on this journey. People have but I have not and I will not apologize for my strength.

The person hit me below the belt. I'm still weak when it comes to opposition, and this opened a door of doubt and fear I wasn't ready for. But God swooped in via scripture and supportive friends to relieve any doubt and fear and has me once again embracing this journey. The person went on to tell me that if what I'm doing is not working I need to get to a doctor immediately. For one, how does he know if what I'm doing is or is not working and second of all, who is he to tell me what to do with MY body? Boy, that really got me unnecessarily riled up! When I need peace the most, I was hit with worry and stress. Interesting, isn't that usually what the enemy uses to attack with? 

Can I paint a scenario of what would happen if I chose the conventional route at ANY time during this illness? Chemo can 'maybe' give me five-to-ten years of life. After cutting me open, radiation, and scientifically known toxic drugs. Oops, they missed some of the yuks, cut me open again exposing the C-cells to air. Oops its spread, cut me open again to remove ovaries, oops it spread again, cut me open some more, remove my lung, my lymph nodes gone, my immune system shot. No fight left in my genetics or my spirit. The next ten years would be putting myself and my family through a chopping block of pain, literally! In and out of the hospital month after month with new trauma after new trauma only to watch me wither, crumble and die in hospice hooked to machines. In the five years of chopping me up, my 105 lb. weight dwindles to 60lbs. How is THAT selfish of me? I want to spare my husband and son that pain AND suffering!

That is exactly what happened to MANY members of my immediate family. They were not distant aunts and uncles. One was my grandmother, my dads' mother. One was my dad's sister and one was my mother's aunt. On both sides of my genetics, this scenario played out year after year with family members that I also didn't even know. I CHOSE not to be a victim of slice and dice. I found too numerous to count testimonies of people who SUCCESSFULLY went a different route! Why would I NOT try this? My family before me chose THEIR route, even though there was no internet of alternative routes available to them. They actually trusted their doctor and the numerous toxic drugs they put in their body. They all died!

Friends, it is inevitable that I am going to die. So are you. Granted we would all rather die later than sooner. We would all love to spare our loved ones the pain of losing us but when in history did that become our choice in when we die? NO ONE has chosen when they die except via suicide. I'm choosing to live as long as I possibly can, maintaining my health on a daily basis and that is more than I can say for a lot of folks who could care less about their health. But I'm the selfish bad guy for wanting to LIVE? Something is seriously wrong with that mentality. 

I can't guarantee that this route will be a success. A doctor can't guarantee chemo either. There are no guarantees in life! I don't want to leave my husband and son but THAT is not my choice! I just want to hold fast to my unwavering faith and show people that God reigns supreme in this world. The world is full of choices in life, many a matter of life and death, you live or you die. I choose God over man; life over death. You make your choices, I make mine unselfishly always putting God first! I may be wrong, I may be right but I know in my soul that eternal life is awaiting me. All praise and glory to God!

Pss. 27:3  "Though an host should encamp against me, my heart shall not fear: though war should rise against me, in this will I be confident."

*note: both scriptures in today's post were sent to me

by happenstance. Thank you, Lord! 

The Fear Factor

1 Sam. 17:34 "And David said unto Saul, Thy servant kept his father's sheep, and there came a lion, and a bear, and took a lamb out of the flock:"

I realize there is something inside me that helps me overcome so many hurdles; I have the strength of a lion and the gentleness of a lamb. When you come face to face with a lion ( a rare event for sure), I'm sure you're instilled with fear. The fear factor is something that rules everyone, even though they don't know it has washed over them or that the feeling has saturated their souls.

Let me ask, when you're faced with a diagnosis from a doctor, you know that tingling you get in your heartbeat where it feels as though it has stopped but you know it didn't because you're still alive, as you feel the rapid rhythm pulsating in your chest? Your brow breaks out in beads of sweat, your palms become clammy as you wait for a prognosis; that there is fear, fear of the worst-case scenario. 

I don't think anyone goes into the doctors' office with the faith that all is well. You walk in out of fear. Most people don't even go to the doctor because of fear but by the time you've made it to his doorstep, you're carrying fear in there with you. Why? Because you know full well you haven't taken care of yourself. You know deep down the neglectful years are finally going to catch up with you.

When I finally went to the doctor because of 'a lump', I instinctively knew what was going to be said. I had done all of the google searches that aimed me in the 'most likely not' direction, but the final diagnosis became 'the worst case scenario'. Fear drove me home that day, fear tried to wake up with me the next day but the little lamb in me came and nestled in my heart as a comforting blanket of wool in a much needed time of cold despair.

I remember a few years ago when we visited an animal sanctuary and I came face to face with a lion! I actually stood in a cage of tigers and was allowed to pet one. Can you say that you've ever done THAT in your life? No, not many people can. The lion was big and fierce but he was wounded and neglected, that is why he was in the sanctuary, to save his life from years of neglect. Rory was finally getting the help he needed in the saviors at the animal sanctuary. As we came eye to eye, neither of us feared; we were both sizing one another up but as I went to pet him he let me know why he was the king of the forest with a loud roar and a snap at my finger. At that time he urinated on me in a spray and our uncle giggled and said, "That'll happen when they want to mark you." I wasn't laughing but I did find it cool to later that day go back and tell my friends that a lion had 'delivered me', I mean, peed on me. 

1 Sam. 17:37 "David said moreover, The LORD that delivered me out of the paw of the lion, and out of the paw of the bear, he will deliver me out of the hand of this Philistine. And Saul said unto David, Go, and the LORD be with thee."

When I was diagnosed with the Big C, I feared the doctors more than I did the lion! I feared the diagnosis, the treatment and the finality of the prognosis. I let the fear factor go home with me but I didn't let it pee on me and ruin my life. When the gavel came down later that week with the verified results, I didn't fear the doctor, I feared the treatment and the lack of willingness for us both to work on a positive outcome of what they had just sprayed me with. I didn't get to go home and be joyful to tell all my friends how I overcome the spraying of the venom that the doctors unleashed, instead I came home and told my friends of the fear I saw in the eyes of my loved ones as I said I wasn't going the conventional route.

This is when I realized I would need every bit of strength in going forward.  I needed to see past the fear factor. I knew I would need to look the lion of fear in the eye and let it know that I am a victim too, I am not a weak victim and my Savior is not a sanctuary for saving cats but a sanctuary of love for saving human beings; the Lamb would rise up to save me. I believe this with every fiber of my being. He knows it, I know it, I just wish the surrounding onlookers knew what it took to get me from point A to point B!

As many of you may have feared your dad as a child; the impending belt, switch, the hand of discipline, you feared. Many unknowingly carry the fear of accepting an Almighty Savior, feeling a little insecure in giving Him 100% total trust.  My dad wasn't the disciplinarian in my family, so I had no fear of accepting my Father in Heaven's discipline or guidance. I never had any trouble getting flushed by His spray of undeniable, unconditional love. He has marked me and surely is saving me from my own self. As I relinquish the fear factor and move forward with unwavering faith in a snail's pace enjoying the brilliant view, painstakingly hating the climb but cherishing the time I spend with my Father as the day draws near where we will be walking hand in hand on the shorelines of Heaven.  There won't be two sets of footprints because I will be beside Him, basking in all of his love and glory. As I miss my earthly father who now resides in heaven I am ever grateful to my Heavenly Father for sending out a boat, filled with life preservers and saturating my soul when I need Him most.

It is a glorious Father's Day! Happy Father's Day, Abba! 

Pss. 57:4 "My soul is among lions: and I lie even among them that are set on fire, even the sons of men, whose teeth are spears and arrows, and their tongue a sharp sword."

I Don't Want To Know

James 1:2 (NIV) “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds.” 

I Don’t Want To Know

Something came up in conversation the other day with my husband. I was taking my supplements and pointed out that many were for inflammation. He responded with, “Did you ever think that’s not what it is?” Referring to my immense amount of daily pain. "Absolutely," I responded. I don't think of it often, but it certainly crosses my mind on occasion. Maybe it isn't inflammation, maybe it's worse. Yeah, I won't go the doubt route.

I feel negative comments surfacing on a regular basis now. I feel like others are doubting and it's not helping my journey any. I snapped back at my husband and told him that No, I don't wanna know if it is something else. I don't want to go to the doctors for them to hound me and tell me I should get chemo. I don't want to know if it has spread and I only have six months to live. I am persevering and doing everything I can to prevent death but then when you think about it, no one can prevent death, we're all going to die.

Memorial Day was no different with the poor poor pitiful Joni, looks. I didn't want to go to his mother's, but I did want to see the family. She wasn't having a cookout or anything, just a yearly gathering of his aunt and two uncles that we only get to see one or two times a year because two live out of state and one hours away. I didn't want to go because well, I'm in constant pain and it's a challenge to get out the door, down the steps, into the truck, back out of the truck, ascend more stairs and do it all over again when the visit is over.

I was also concerned with the questions that would be aimed at me. Luckily his brother was there with his wife and son so it kind of took the questions away from me. Instead, I was met with eyes of pity. They looked at me like the cripple I am and treated me like a fragile broken child who needs assistance with every step. I wonder how they think I manage to get through every single day? I don't have a live-in nurse that cares for me, I DO take care of myself. I AM a little slow but I'm not a precious vase about to fall on the floor that needs catching before it smashes to the ground.  

Then there was the lightning storm going on for two hours and more. The gusty winds arose right before we left as did a little thunder and lightning and I wanted to wait but no, hubby had to leave then and there. The dirt road was a sloppy mess as we swerved and swayed until it came to an end. Every swerve of the car sent a tingling pain up my back. The short trip to his mother's had the pain rising and rising with each clap of thunder and every sliver of lightning. We arrived in a downpour. I said I'd wait in the car, but I got so frustrated with myself, I hopped out and limped, cane in hand, to the front door. Hubby on arm trying to walk in his normal stride and me trying to keep up with my tiny limps, in the pouring rain and gusting winds. 

I try and understand that his family never sees me, and hasn't seen me using a cane and just expected bouncy-bouncy Joni, but instead, they were met with Tiny Tim. After his brother left, his aunt was right on me asking how I was doing and if I was still doing my protocol. I tried not to be snarky but it was quite hard as my back felt like a tightly wound rubber band about to snap and I really was not up to a visit that day. I just said yes, yes, I wake every day and thank God for another day. I was curt but not snarky. 

When I went to get up to use the bathroom his mother was about to leap into action, "You need help?" Umm... no, but thank you. As I walked past her my husband was sitting there and I asked for some water and his mom quickly jumped up and said I can get it, I can get it. I love having people care, I love that they want to know more about how I'm handling my illness. I love that they don't even talk chemo with me, but a tightly threaded quilt will eventually dry rot. Remember, I'm here year round. Not that anybody ever asks about my writing but is as important to me as my husband's now-defunct blog he had while he was blind. Writing is my life and I live to tell my story. 

On the ride home from his moms the storms were still churning; hard to see, muddy roads a bigger mess but we made it home and my tears fell unseen as quickly as the raindrops. It was a trying day for me that no one understands. As stubborn as I am, I am not one to be pitied and the looks, the stares, they tore me apart shred by shred. While I know and understand how lucky I am to be in this family and to have people that care, you don't realize how much it hurts to know I have a family back home that couldn't give a rip about me. I never cross their mind in a day, month or a year. It makes me feel defensive and isolated when a person after months of not seeing me shows signs of caring. I go on.

Tuesday, the entire day was rainfall! Glorious rainfall with rolling thunder and a flash of lightning here and there but rain it did! I think we had ten storms in one day and they didn't stop until eleven at night. The temps dropped to normal on Monday, meaning Springlike temps of the 60's and yesterday the temps that were predicted near ninety barely made it to seventy. Alleluia Amen.

Like summertime storms, life comes at us unexpectedly. Sometimes the trials are easy to endure, at other times they're difficult. Sometimes it's a delicate rainfall, at times a hard downpour. Sometimes high winds, a few times tornadoes pop up. Surely you need to be ready but if you knew ahead of time that you were going to die, what would you do differently? If a doctor told you that you have six months to live, how would you spend those last six months? Me, I don't want to know. I want to live until I die and that's that. Sure I'll prepare myself for the storms about to strike but I will not sit here and count days and think each one my last. As long as God is my guide, I never fear the valleys. Don't pity me as I persevere! I go with God!

James 1:12 (NIV) “Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.” 

Cowardly Lion

Joshua 1:9  “Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.”

The Cowardly Lion

I’m sure you’ve all seen the Wizard of Oz right? When I think of a coward I think of the Cowardly Lion and how he reacted to everything. Was there a reason he feared all of the time?

Dorothy: My goodness, what a fuss you're making! Well naturally, when you go around picking on things weaker than you are. Why, you're nothing but a great big coward!

Cowardly Lion: [crying] You're right, I am a coward! I haven't any courage at all. I even scare myself.

Cowardly Lion: Look at the circles under my eyes. I haven't slept in weeks!

Tin Woodsman: Why don't you try counting sheep?

Cowardly Lion: That doesn't do any good, I'm afraid of ‘em.

The Cowardly Lion may not have been a coward, he just didn’t have any faith in himself to tackle anything thrown at him. He was probably always led to believe what others told him, and they are the ones who instilled fear in the gentle giant. It wasn’t until he was told he held the power within him to be a royal King could he ever give courage the chance to shine. 

When I used the word coward the other day I didn’t mean it in the harshest sense of the word. I do not think people are cowards who choose the easier way to their problems or illnesses. You had the courage to go to the doctor and you took what the doctor said as solid gold. Why? Because we were raised and conditioned to believe that the doctor is always right and could never be wrong. That is not cowardice! It’s just a different route, a tried and true acceptable route to millions, but not a route for ME.

Just as the four characters on the yellow brick road in Oz soon found out the truth about the Great and Powerful Oz, he was just a man and didn’t hold the power he claimed! Do you remember all that they endured getting a chance to even SEE Oz? I’m sure you’ve also heard or read about the symbolism of the great movie. 

This movie very well could have been written with every intention of all the symbolism but we are conditioned to see the beauty in the movie. I love the symbolism of Toto, the little dog of Dorothy. He stands for the little guy, interestingly enough, not much unlike myself standing up to the Great and Powerful Medical and Pharmaceutical world. I would’ve rather been Dorothy, but no, I’m much smaller than her. No one likes ‘that little dog’.

I’m not into politics but going against the medical field kind of ties one into the political aspect of all that the government does to see us little people stuck in the trap they set for us. From forcing vaccines, to the overuse of pharmaceuticals, from food rationing, to aid after a storm, everything in America is tied in some way, shape or form to the political arena. And that is just what it is, an arena,  a win or lose battle.

I in no way meant to demean your decision in going the slice, dice, medicate route. That journey holds its own kind of bravery and you’ve earned the Victory of Survivor in your own right! I’m just CHOOSING a different path because it is my right as a human being. So my government and all of their spin-offs (pharma., Drs., etc.) leave me in the dust it just makes my journey a little more challenging. I don’t get a parade; I don’t get unending charitable donations; I don’t get much support from the Big C community (only from the small groups on Facebook that I join). I certainly don’t get medical or political support. 

Failure is not in my vocabulary these days. While many people fear and cower I push on, right or wrong. Funny thing is, I won’t have an inkling if I was wrong until long after I’m gone, I’m that optimistic on this path I’m on!

My body is working FOR me not against me. We’ve been told for years when faced with a diagnosis of the dire kind, that our bodies are working against us. We believe Dr. Oz to be right and we think we need drugs. We dance our way down the Yellow Brick Road and end up in the poorhouse, not at the Emerald City where the movie leads the characters.

Our bodies were created to fight FOR us, not against us! Our immune system is so intricate that the Creator has in place the ability for our system to attack invading illnesses. Our systems were not built to recognize drugs in our system, that is when we become like the Cowardly Lion. When we believe that our bodies are attacking us, do you know and understand the negative connotation that goes along with that belief? Your body begins shutting down believing YOU’RE the one giving up on IT! They tell you your lymph nodes need removal but that is taking away your very defense mechanism in your DNA make-up!

To counterattack, you need to BELIEVE you have the ability to FIGHT any invader in your body and do something to change your line of thinking and winning. Don’t be led down an imaginary path, don’t believe everything the Great Oz or your doctor tells you, question everything! Ask the right questions and find a Naturopath in your area. In the end, you won’t wind up in a fairytale city, you’ll find yourself Somewhere Over the Rainbow, a picture of health and beauty! 

Gateway to Health: Conclusion

Rev. 8:13 "And I beheld, and heard an angel flying through the midst of heaven, saying with a loud voice, Woe, woe, woe, to the inhabiters of the earth by reason of the other voices of the trumpet of the three angels, which are yet to sound!"

Gateway to Health: Conclusion

Value Yourself!

I am concluding my Gateway to Health Series. I’ve shown you all I can about changing your diet, and the essential exercise necessary (simply walking 20-30 minutes a day or more) to keep blood flowing through your lymph nodes. I’ve told you of my successes and my failures, my ups and downs, and everything in between; now its time to let you fly. 

I realized that I might not have shown you one thing and that is to value yourself. I think people are so caught up in the fast pace of society, trying the fish joint, or the new burger palace or eating at that restaurant because of tradition and not many will give pause to waiting, valuing themselves enough to change their order for a healthier solution. People don’t think themselves worthy enough to save or are worth eating healthy to save themselves from numerous doctors visits to stay alive.

Statistically, only twenty percent of the people are willing to change their diet to save themselves from imminent death. Life is too short they say, you only live once they murmur, ‘hey, we all gotta die from something’. I get it, I know what you’re saying. Me, I’ve had the wake-up call of a lifetime. I’ve been given the opportunity to live instead of dying a slow, long drawn out, painful, drug-induced death. I’m one of the twenty percentiles that value living more than dying.

I have a Spider plant that I’ve had for about twelve years. It was always drooping no matter what I did. I watered, fed, and fertilized it but it continuously drooped. With the Christmas season came a rearranging of plants. I sat my Spider Plant in a window where it gets to see the sunrise every morning. Within two months, this looks like a whole new plant, reaching for the sky, turning towards the sun, and reproducing by having babies! 

I did something right and never moved the plant back to its previous spot. I let my plant flourish and grow. It listened to me when I said you need to have a change or you’re going to die. I know a lot of folks don’t believe plants know anything but let me tell you, weird Joni has witnessed this living breathing plant extend its life with CHANGE! That is my very reason for writing to you, so maybe you’ll change to live.

I could’ve left the plant where it was and just let it limp through life with wilted leaves but I knew a drastic change was in order for me to see this plant live up to its potential. That is all I want for my human friends who can actually change on their own, live up to your full potential, is that too much to ask? Apparently, it is. I can offer sunshine but most of the time I think your shades are drawn. I can offer you something new but too often you cling to the old. Old habits are hard to break, or so they say.

1 Thess. 5:24 “Faithful is he that calleth you, who also will do it.”

1 Thess. 5 is almost the same thing (as in so many scripture verses) that cries out to you, a guide for you, and an aid in hard times and struggles but do you adhere? If you are not going to listen to the Holy Bible who am I to think you’d change your diet because of a few words I pen? I cry out to you to change, not to shame you or judge you, I do it because I want you to live and not be imprisoned by the drugs that will usher you to your death.

To get through the Gateway to Health there is no other entry than to walk through it, taking the first step towards change. Even the smallest of steps will have you feeling the value of life. If you’re not willing to change then go to your doctor, ask him what drug will make the slow process of death easier on you because it seems that is all anyone wants is an easy route to get from point A to point B. 

A year into my changed protocol, I struggle daily with pains, ups, and downs and don’t feel much unlike Elijah in many ways. I understand the trial I must endure and it is not the easy route in life; I cry out.

1 Kgs. 19:4 “But he himself went a day's journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a juniper tree: and he requested for himself that he might die; and said, It is enough; now, O LORD, take away my life; for I am not better than my fathers.”

When I cry out to Him, God assures me of another path, one where I live and I’m shown the value of my life, my journey and the end reward. Am I wrong in wanting the same for my fellow man?

1 Kgs. 19:5-8 And as he lay and slept under a juniper tree, behold, then an angel touched him, and said unto him, Arise and eat. And he looked, and, behold, there was a cake baken on the coals, and a cruse of water at his head. And he did eat and drink, and laid him down again. And the angel of the LORD came again the second time, and touched him, and said, Arise and eat; because the journey is too great for thee. And he arose, and did eat and drink, and went in the strength of that meat forty days and forty nights unto Horeb the mount of God.

My journey is far from over. I will move forward with the strength of an army of angels plowing forward bringing peace and goodwill to man. I cannot devalue my life, my soul is too precious whether good or bad instances flare up, I roll right along facing what I must. My wish for you is that when you look in the mirror you see the value in yourself before giving in completely to the darkness that leads you in the wrong direction; strolling down the darkened path where the gateway of health is closed to you.

When God extends his hand, do you turn away? When He gives you a second chance, do you toss it in the garbage pail outside the fast food restaurant? When God speaks, do you listen or are your earplugs in and you only hear what you want to hear, when you want to hear it? I’ve had every opportunity that you’ve had, to listen to everyone else, go the easy route, to be thrown on the table to be sliced, diced and medicated or go the tough route of listening to the whispers of something greater out there in the void of the cosmos. I chose the harder route but, to me, the better route.

I’m now making a choice to conclude my Gateway to Health series and allowing you to decide for yourself whether you’re worth living or dying. Do you value your life or are you content with your health, weight, prognosis, or diagnosis? If you said no, then do something about it, change is within your grasp. Take a chance, that’s all. Either fall or walk, stumble or crawl, whatever you decide you’re WORTH it to stay alive!

May the Grace of the Lord be upon you all! 

Angel always…Godspeed my friends…

Bouncing Back After A Fall

Philippians 4:13 (NKJV) “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” 

Bouncing Back After A Fall

As much as I hear other people whine and complain about politics, life, bills, and setbacks, my biggest complaint this year is SNOW! Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I’d be complaining about too much snow, but here it is upon me now!

After this Sunday’s high of sixty splendiferous degrees, Monday was crash and burn let out the snowfall! Snow it did, all day! It never amounted to much but we finally had a week of a thaw that melted snow from as far back as Christmas, I was never so happy to see the resurfacing of the brown palette.

Monday, the white returned to the ground. Granted it was beautiful, granted it snowed the entire day but produced nary an inch but it was back, causing traveling headaches. The white was back on the ground, the bitter cold kicked into overdrive and we’re back to fluffy socks and big sweaters. For a couple of days, we enjoyed long sleeves but no need for a sweatshirt, scarf and gloves, and those were days topping out in the thirties. It’s not that I’m whining about cold and winter, my gripe is in the extended duration of deep cold spells. Yup, winter is like that! I KNOW!

While the negativity I feel with each snowfall now tries to tear me down, I am clearly in a bouncing back mode and am letting nothing beat me up! Scientifically, “crying is one way that the body removes stress chemicals,” from The Truth About Cancer. Sunday was a crying day and I do allow myself days of downtime because this upbeat, peppy all the time, no pain and just soaring gets to be a tiring chore like the shoveling of snow, instead of an accepted way of life.

I bet some of you are saying ‘you could’ve just went the chemo route and you’d already be in remission.’ You don’t understand this disease any more than I do. As a matter of fact, you and I don’t know any more about this illness than the big bad doctor. He’s just doing what they’ve continued to do for thirty and forty years. Times have changed. There are new ways of beating this Big C but the studies take too long and the doctor doesn’t wish to embrace these new ways so, in the meantime, people die all because of tradition. Their pockets are amply lined with money from insurance and the pharmaceutical companies and people are going out to pasture!

My body speaks to me and God speaks to me. John 10:27 says, "My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me.” For ME, the choice was simple, to follow that still small voice and go where He leads me. Here lately my body is telling me that something isn’t working and it kind of threw me off because I was having good, productive, pain-free days. Slowly the pain was sliding back into my legs and my back, walking was pained, muscles strained and with the winter's lack of sunshine and outside activity (besides shoveling snow), I was feeling a bit discouraged, what was wrong? It had to be something in my diet that I had changed.

You see, when you’re on such a strict protocol of food that you eat, the food then tells you what is wrong, like the recent frozen processed pizza I had. No, it wasn’t just that one pizza, it had to be something else. The only thing I could think of is wheat bread or organic oatmeal. I’m leaning more towards the cause being the WHEAT! 

I started allowing wheat bread into my diet around January first because I listened to other BC women who said that wheat wasn’t bad for our diets, go figure. I give up bread for a year and soar, let wheat bread in and crash. Really it is a no-brainer to figure that one out. 

Matt. 11:16 “But whereunto shall I liken this generation? It is like unto children sitting in the markets, and calling unto their fellows,”

I hear the term ‘sheeple’ in the political arena often and since I’m not into politics and don’t allow that negativity in, I assume it is a derogatory remark of ‘stupid people’ following along after every wind that blows. (Please, there is no need to elaborate for me, thank you.) I conclude this summation because sheep have no survival skills like other animals, no way of fending for themselves; set them in the wild and they will be slaughtered because they need a shepherd to guide them. I think on a religious term sheeple can be the people following Christ the Shepherd, we seem dumb because we’re following along after a non-living entity (to others) and the zombie effect has a hold on us.

I only feel dumbed-down when listening to man and anything HE (or she) has to offer me in way of the ‘direction’ I should go. I listened to the BC group of women because they are going through the exact same thing I am going through with the Natural Protocol route and thought for a brief moment that maybe they knew what they were talking about. Granted they have a lot of knowledge on the subject but I’ll say this again, what works for one does not work for all.

Deut. 8:8 “A land of wheat, and barley, and vines, and fig trees, and pomegranates; a land of oil olive, and honey;”

At one time, the wheat, barley, and figs were of purity, not tainted by man. Man dusts these grains with chemicals, modifies them for the almighty dollar, making people sick in the process.

Through those links I shared, can you see what I’m up against? I’m up against man and his destruction of man! Maybe at one time wheat wasn’t such a bad grain, but with the rise of organic everything, there is more to the story that ‘man’ isn’t telling you. It’s okay, you have a doctor with his prescribed candy to make you feel better. I think the term ‘sheeple’ should stand for man following man, period! To ME, that is EXACTLY what it means. The main thing that makes me ‘different’ is I follow the One and the only living God. As soon as I listen to a man (or woman) I fall, crash and burn. Interesting.

Back to my strict protocol thank you very much. Run along now, Billy is running up the hill after Bobby, and Janie isn’t far behind with Tommy in tow seeking the candy that Timmy is offering.

Jer. 12:13 “They have sown wheat, but shall reap thorns: they have put themselves to pain, but shall not profit: and they shall be ashamed of your revenues because of the fierce anger of the LORD.”

Luke 6:49 “But he that heareth, and doeth not, is like a man that without a foundation built an house upon the earth; against which the stream did beat vehemently, and immediately it fell; and the ruin of that house was great.”

What They Don't Say

Job 8:14 “Whose hope shall be cut off, and whose trust shall be a spider's web.”

What They Don’t Say

Did you know that arthritis, multiple sclerosis, Hashimoto's diseases and more are all auto-immune diseases? Not much unlike cancer, these diseases most of the time can all be safely treated without drugs but that is not what your doctor says. What they do say is here’s a drug and it is the only way to find relief from continuous pain. What they don’t say is that changing your diet and exercise has a profound effect on your longevity with a pain-free existence. They steal your hope.

I’ve said over and over again to change your diet, relieve your pain and illness and over and over again I hear people not having any success because they don’t have the willpower to save themselves, they’d much rather think a drug can do all the work for them.

Why is there a war on health? Why have doctors made healthy eating a back-burner portion of your visit? Why don’t they hold knowledge of what actually heals a person instead of basically killing people with drugs? Had doctors been taught this information to begin with many of our parents, grandparents, children, and grandchildren would not have died. I hear all too often that a doctor saved a life because the drug kept momma stable, alive for a few more years. Baloney!

Maybe drugs are a necessity, maybe they can help, but does the doctor offer you the change in diet FIRST as a level of defense to fight what ails you? If he told you that you had to give up dairy, meat, or caffeine would you take a drug over changing? I believe you would. We live in a self-satisfying world addicted to sugar, oils, meat, fat, and drugs.

I believe when I gave up alcohol all those years ago, on my own, without a twelve step program that was, to me, proof that I had the willpower to fight anything that was thrown at me. Granted, that this wretched disease is a little bigger than an alcohol addiction.

It pains me to see friends sick on a daily basis. Every day it seems I’m bombarded with news of people with the flu, stomach virus’, colds and everything in between. I have to stay away from the social arena for days because of the negative invasion of illnesses and the unhealthy eating habits and no one willing to change. Stay in bed, pop some pills, go to the doctor, remain sick for days or weeks. Change? That’s not an option, they’d rather whine and pop pills, it’s a safer route than change.

I often think of how far I’ve come and how tempted I am when around people who are living it up in the toxin-filled world. It’s not easy choosing vegetables over a cheese-smothered pizza, it would be so easy to choose a Pepsi over a glass of water, a chip over a grape, the list goes on and on. It’s not easy staying alert and watching every single thing that goes in my mouth. A crash is basically inevitable as long as I allow the negative influx of my surroundings to have an impact.

This calls to mind the disciples when Jesus went to pray, were asked to sit and watch, each time Jesus returned they were asleep. Each time I tell someone to help them change their diet and keep sickness at bay, they eat and eat and eat everything that is making them sick to begin with. It’s as if they’ve fallen asleep and my words fall on deaf ear. They don’t have time to change, they can’t or won’t change or it’s just too hard to change. If they’re going to die, they’re going to die happy and unhealthy. You can’t take a healthy body with you, right?

After reading yesterday’s post, you see I hit a roadblock. I’m as human as everyone else and I fall too. I only had a pizza, and it would’ve been very easy for me to cave in and drink a Pepsi, or guzzle some alcohol. I chose the lesser of two evils and had pizza. It’s bound to happen but I was not ready for the emotional roller coaster that came before the crash.

My mind plays tricks on me as I imagine each and every one of you fight with before indulging in something you know isn’t good for you but you do it anyway as a form of comfort. I needed comfort from my toying thoughts. As time passes by I wonder about things. I guess it’s normal since I’ve chosen this path without the medical field supporting me. But rest assured, I wonder.

So I hit a speed bump in my journey. Nothing new there, we’re all bound to come across one or two when fighting addictions, diet change, or on a health-filled journey. I need to brush myself off and get back in the saddle again and ride onto victory. It can be done and won.

I rode my stationary bike like there was no tomorrow and I went on a journey of riding down a sun-laden country road with blooming trees and a melody keeping me focused. It felt great to get away and when I looked out the window and saw more intense snowfall and shivering temps in the teens, I kept peddling. My bike ride took me away from the negative world into a wonder-filled palace that I’ll be visiting quite a few times until I get myself out of this funk.

The winter in life is almost over and spring is just around the corner. A time to shed clothes and peel away layers of inhibitions and be proud of making it through the dormant season into the blossoming Springtime of life! I haven’t made it yet but just a few more weeks and I’ll be well on my way to victory. Are you going to say the same thing? Are you at least trying to change?

What they don’t say is that there is HOPE for some change! If your doctor or your path isn’t brimming with hope and possibilities, it’s time to find a path that will lead to success. If lil old me can do it, I do have hope that you can too! 

Job 6:11 “What is my strength, that I should hope? and what is mine end, that I should prolong my life?”