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.”

Home At Last...My Story Continues

Rev. 19:1 “ And after these things I heard a great voice of much people in heaven, saying, Alleluia; Salvation, and glory, and honour, and power, unto the Lord our God:”

Home at last...

Driving home for the first time in twenty days felt strange as I had not really been in the outside air except for the three-minute drive from nursing home to the hospital across the road. I opened the window and let the cool breeze kiss my face as the sun hugged me, welcoming me. Yes, there was sun instead of clouds on this day of my release from rehab.

I was a little nervous heading home because I had no idea what uncertainty was going to meet me at the door. All I knew was that it was home, and I was finally going there, a safe haven in which to rest. What felt like months in the hospital being shuffled from hospital to nursing home, to radiation on my leg, to the primary doctor and back to the hospital, it was all coming to a nerve-wracking end because I’d have to trust my husband on a different level more than anything right now.

My husband had been put through the wringer, thrown in the dryer and left there to wrinkle. In other words, this man was frazzled beyond recognition. I could see him in there but his mind, it looked as if it had been thrown in the frying pan and left to sizzle. No one noticed this, not his mother, his sister, no one but me and my son because we had to deal with him daily.  He was forgetful, distant at times, and extremely self-centered. He was trying to regain control of the world he lost,  something that looked normal but he knew, that time was a ways off in the months that lie ahead.

In the twenty days I was in the hospital he had locked his keys in the car at least three times, he had forgotten what I asked for from home almost daily and he had slept on the hard hospital sofa for ten days, not wanting to leave me alone in the hospital but was made to leave me in a nursing home and that laid guilt on him. I’m not telling you this so you can laugh and make fun, I’m sharing this because here was a dedicated-to-his-wife man, who had very recently put his dog to rest, now made to deal with his wife, not being the beautiful dependable homemaker that he fell in love with. He was wearing thin on many levels and it hurt me to watch.

Now he was driving me home where my care would be solely left up to him. Sure, a home healthcare nurse would come by twice a week, but as you know, there are seven days in a week. I  believe any man would be anxious in this situation where twenty days ago he didn’t know if his wife was going to live or die, it looked that grim from their perspectives. Sure his mom would offer to make a meal or two, but he needed more, more that none of us could give.

Now sitting in front of the house drew tears from my eyes like water from a well. I was no longer looking out a window hoping and praying, I was home, prayers answered. The tears flowed effortlessly before I even tried getting out of the car. Hubby was removing the wheelchair from the trunk, my son came from inside offering to help and I just wanted to sit there in the car and drink the reality of it all in. “Why not unload the car and let me sit here a few minutes?”

They complied and began carrying in vases and stuffed animals, blankets and clothes, boxes and bows. I was home. The shabby little rental house isn’t all that much to look at, but it has been my home for ten years, one where I made it a flower-rimmed home that even the owner of the property had mentioned how well tended this place was. Amazing what love can turn into beauty in the midst of ugly. I was home.

I called out to Riley, the dog who wandered onto the property two years ago as a stray and never left. Riley, who was nowhere to be seen, nor had been for some days the guys said. I called out and told her to come home, I’m here. She would come eventually, she always does. The guys said that when they put food out for her, it disappeared, but they never really caught a glimpse of her. 

I had to swing my pained legs out the door. I would need to get back into the car on Friday and all the days of doctor visits, so this has to go well! I pivoted to the wheelchair, gently sat, and after taking a deep inhale was pushed forward up my RAMP, that my bro-in-law built with no questions asked (or funds for that matter!)

Once safely in the front door, my eyes opened to a cascade of tears, I just sat and bawled my eyes out, crying, “I’m home! I’m home!” There was joy and fear, anxiety and pain but there was also my Lord waiting to carry any burden I brought home with me. 

I’ll continue this story in the coming weeks as I continue healing but today being New Year's Eve, you need to know how far I’ve come and am at on this day, two short months since I was released from what I deemed ‘the hellholes’!

My cancer markers have gone down drastically, leaving the doctors scratching their heads in amazement. The markers began in September at 2775, dropped in October to 1500, then to 875 in November! What do they mean? Cancer no longer likes living in my body- for now, I move on.

When I was released from rehab on October 5th, I was on a strict no weight-bearing regimen! I could not put any weight on my left leg and minimal on my right! 
Today, I still use the wheelchair but I walk with a walker (in the house and at physical therapy) and have just started practicing with a cane! 

My doctors, plural, have admitted that it was not just the oral-chemo that has had this miraculous change in my healing. Whatever I was doing (alternatively) was obviously in play here and working on healing me! 

The radiation I received for ten days was to my femur where they said cancer had spread, radiation zapped it away. More astonishing to the doc’s was the rare way my body was handling everything. No vomiting, eating regularly, no diarrhea, no pink peeling skin, no mouth sores, no fevers, etc. I was what the nurse said, “Our poster child for what stage 4 cancer healing SHOULD look like!" Words like awesome, amazing, fascinating were frequently heard with each office visit or from anyone I came in contact with really.

This weekend for the first time in three months, I reclaimed my home! Taking my time and being ever so cautious, I dusted and vacuumed, washed, dried, folded and put away two loads of laundry. I’m releasing my husband of those duties and hopefully, he can find healing also. 

What do I say is my source of healing? My God! Simply put, my AMAZING GOD! Prayer and the support of my friends and family. I never allowed my faith to wane, my trust in the Lord grew stronger. Through each pain, every sorrowful step that brought tears to my eyes, I cried out louder to my God, Thank you, Jesus! 

Now, what do I see for the NEW YEAR? My faith growing even stronger, my sharing of this miraculous healing with any and all, and I see the colors of the rainbow flourishing in my garden this spring. I see me walking around the house talking to my animals and giving my Riley plenty of belly rubs! Yes, she appeared when she sensed I was home. (It didn’t take too long)

I’m home… home at last! 

HAPPY NEW YEAR, my Spiritual Family! I could’ve never made it without your continued prayers and support!

Pss. 30:2 “O LORD my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me.”

Nursing Home Saga Continues

2 Samuel 7:22 (NIV) "How great you are, O Sovereign LORD! There is no one like you, and there is no God but you."

The Saga Continues

The first night at the Home didn’t go too bad but morning came and I was aroused by the lights on Ray’s side being swung into motion. Ray had to be up and dressed because she went for dialysis three days a week. It took a lot out of her physically. She’d be gone until noon at which time she’d arrive back at the Home to eat lunch. Some of the time she would eat in the room because apparently, her trip took too much out of her to be social. She was placed in her recliner and left to eat.

By five in the morning I was awake and most of the time I asked if I could be helped onto the commode. “Sure Joni, just give us a minute.” I was trying to memorize the voices that would be helping me, this day it was Laura. The minute usually took more than twenty to come back for me. I was hungry and wouldn’t eat until nine. A small cup of water sat on my table and I’d take small sips. If I asked for them to refill the cup I brought from the hospital, it would take every bit of thirty-five minutes for it to be returned like it did the day before on my arrival. I was hesitant. And no, I was not on any restrictions of food and water.

I wanted to turn my television on a couple of times but wouldn’t you know it, the previous aid sat the ‘gait belt’ on the stand right in front of the television beam needed for the remote to connect and it would not turn on. I would just sit there, looking around, alone in my thoughts. The curtains were still drawn in the mornings and I awaited the sunrise. My meds would arrive about eight o’clock to eight-thirty and I asked the nurse that day, Bird lady, if she could kindly help me to the commode, the other nurse at six o’clock had not returned. “Well let me get you your meds first.” This nurse was one of the sweet attentive nurses and also in charge of the other nurses, the Charge Nurse. With gloves on, she handed me all of my pills in one cup. My chemo pills were supposed to be taken at different times, like before I ate (which one of them was on time) but the other was supposed to be thirty-minutes AFTER I ate. I was still hungry, no food tray in sight, except the empty one from dinner the night before, and still waiting to urinate. She offered me three packs of crackers to hold me off and often offered me an Ensure drink. 

I wasn’t getting a good feel of the place even after one full day in the confines of the home. At around 9:45 I was scheduled for my radiation; that meant I had to get dressed. The physical therapists came in before eight (way before breakfast) to see what I could physically do. The one PT was very robotic. I would try to make her laugh and she would just deadpan stare at me as if to say, ‘really? I’m trying to work here!’ While the occupational therapist, Kay, was perky and friendly and loved to laugh with me. Our laughter I know could be heard echoing down the hall. When I cried, she listened, she’d hand me the box of kleenex, and it was very comforting having someone in my room to communicate with.

I couldn’t do much like get dressed, heck I hadn’t showered in twelve days and have only been sponge bathed a couple of times at the hospital. My hair was a mangled mess, and what make-up was still left on my eyes ran down my face and I was hesitant to even look in the mirror. I would go to the radiation treatment in my t-shirt and flannel, nothing else but a blanket to cover me because the days were starting to get chilly.

I could only pivot so far on my right foot with the aid of the gait belt so I didn’t fall. The cold radiation slab wanted to break my back but the nurses were very accommodating and brought pillows, a cushion with a sheet, and warmed sheets to cover me. They didn’t treat me like a toxic zombie. They treated me like a patient. They were impressed with my progress since the first round of radiation, where I was brought in on a gurney. They said I was nothing short of a miracle when I appeared in the wheelchair, stood and pivoted. They had seen the x-rays of my break and were surprised I was at the pivoting stage already. My determination to go home kept me pushing forward but never overdoing the exercises I needed to set me free.

After the session was over my husband and I usually rolled down and sat at the window with the beautiful fountain surrounded by a lush garden and benches. There were pumpkins decorating the garden for either fall or Halloween. I lost track of time. We would then wait for the bus driver to return to take us back to the home.

The weather was damp, dreary and chilly most days, at the hospital, I was wheeled by gurney to the CC. At the Home, the community Ryde (bus) bus driver would come to my room and pick me up, unless a nurse rolled me to the sitting room. I was then taken to the Cancer Center. The driver would then come back and pick me up to take me back to the home. Any time I was not alone was a cherished moment for me. Anxiety had built for the Nursing Home very quickly. I would kid with the bus driver and ask him if he wanted to break me out of this place. He’d laugh as we slowly approached the Home. He would take me back to my room if my husband wasn’t there, otherwise hubby would wheel me back to the cubbyhole of a corner in room twelve. Let me state now, the other rooms were EVENLY divided between tenants. With doors open, I could clearly see in each room I passed as envy filled my empty gut.

As I said, to lighten my time in the places I deemed a hellhole, only because it wasn’t home, I used laughter to muddle through. One time being transported on a gurney to the CC I was wheeled to the first floor, past a gift shop, past a Subway (what torture!) and then past a waiting room then out the door into the swift breeze and the only-for-me sunshine. The CC was right next door to the hospital, too close for ambulatory service. I told the guys wheeling me, as I was covered in a white sheet, looking like a dead body being transported, that I would put the sheet over my head, then when I get to the waiting room, I’d jump up, screaming. The one technician laughed so hard he almost stumbled, the other one just shook his head. These guys, as well as anyone who came in contact with me, were getting to know me and my infectious sense of humor. Laughter and optimism kept me ALIVE!

The days were passing by as slow as extra thick maple syrup could be poured from a bottle. Granted the days were full from five a.m until we turned our lights out at 8:30 as we slept until something in the night called us to awaken.

Pss. 130:5  “I wait for the LORD, my soul doth wait, and in his word do I hope.”

The Christmas Story?

Jer. 2:11 “Hath a nation changed their gods, which are yet no gods? but my people have changed their glory for that which doth not profit.”

The Christmas Story?

I never really gave the technicalities much thought to the Christmas Story, I trusted what I was taught and went with it on the same journey as you. Some see and understand it differently and now so do I. 

Well you already know I’m ‘different’ and believe things ‘differently’ and I’m okay with that but this one had toyed with me over the years and now it hit home solidly by the Word of God. What am I going on and on about? The story of three Wise men and how they came to Jesus. 

As the story that we’ve been programmed with over the years is that of the story of the Little Drummer Boy. You know the one, where the three wise men came from afar, following a star, and presented the newborn babe with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. As I was writing a poem this morning, I sought the truth because I don’t like writing something and then being told that ‘hey, that isn’t right.’ I like to try my best to get an accurate conveyance of truth.

Matt. 2:8-11 "And he [Herod] sent them [the wise men] to Bethlehem, and said, Go and search diligently for the young child; and when ye have found him, bring me word again, that I may come and worship him also.When they had heard the king, they departed; and, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy. And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense, and myrrh."

They went into a house and saw a young child. They didn’t find a manger and a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes. That was the Shepherds who saw the babe in a manger.

Luke 2:16 “And they [the shepherds] came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.”

The Magi, taken from the link – 
“They were definitely men of learning. They were certainly men of great learning. The word Magi comes from the Greek word 'magos' (where the English word 'magic' comes from). Magos itself comes from the old Persian word 'Magupati'. This was the title given to priests in a sect of the ancient Persian religions such as Zoroastrianism. Today we'd called them astrologers. Back then astronomy and astrology were part of the same overall studies (and 'science') and went hand in hand with each other. The magi would have followed the patterns of the stars religiously. They would have also probably been very rich and held high esteem in their own society and by people who weren't from their country or religion.”

I always knew there was some twisting of [HIS]story because when one man sees a house burning in a blazing fire, another man might see a small oven fire consuming a kitchen, while yet another person might see a legal burning of a persons trash. Stories get constructed and misconstrued numerous times over the years. Some see the history in the bible as literal and me, being a poet, have always seen many portions as metaphorically divined. I don’t think God ever intended for us to pluck someone’s eye out. You don't need to chest thump and correct me here, this is me sorting this out. 

The Little Drummer Boy is a story we were sold throughout our lives that we somewhat believed. The story is kind of like the tale I was told of what was needed to fight this disease I’m fighting. I was programmed over and over to believe something only to find out that it isn’t all true and there are other ways to think about the killer disease. See there? I said killer disease without hesitation only because that was my belief for forty years. That’s about how long ago my grandmother was taken by the disease of a lifetime.

We are programmed to believe that this is a ‘killer’ disease only because we’ve heard the story over and over and we believe what we’re told because we’re a trusting species never giving rise to doubt in what we’re being fed. Literally, what we’re being fed are lies! When you read a label that says ‘All Natural’ you believe what it says never looking any closer to see what portion is all natural (usually 1% of a whole), you just buy what you’re being sold.

Chemotherapy is another story being sold to unsuspecting people. I hear over and over how it ‘cured’ so and so but, there it is, there is always a ‘but’! After destroying the immune system the ‘cured’ get sicker and sicker and some even have to deal with a recurrence and guess what you're sold, more chemo, radiation and drugs. Is it because you can’t change your lifestyle to save your life? Are you seriously not worth it? 

There’s a change that came over the world in the form of a baby who thought you WERE (and still are) worth a change from the evil that Eve brought on mankind. No, not everyone can be as strong as Jesus, but inside you, you have hidden strength that will come ALIVE when you see yourself WORTH the change! There IS change in the story, there is HISstory to be made, all you have to do is see yourself worthy. God thinks you are, do you think you are?

Job 30:18 “By the great force of my disease is my garment changed: it bindeth me about as the collar of my coat.”

Prov. 24:21 “My son, fear thou the LORD and the king: and meddle not with them that are given to change:”

Power in Prayer

Mark 1: 28-29  “And when he was come into the house, his disciples asked him privately, Why could not we cast him out? And he said unto them, This kind can come forth by nothing, but by prayer and fasting.”

Power in Prayer

When this New Year began I was not expecting to be on a journey of my lifetime. I thought I’d sail through the year until another one began. People wonder why I have such a firm belief? Because I KNOW my ways are not His ways, just as my plans are not His plans.

Isa. 55:8-9 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.

We always THINK we are in total control but as you can see, nothing is ever in our control, like melting wax it is ALWAYS dripped into His hands and carried.

Did you ever wonder why the Asians (or people in other countries) are healthier than Americans? They knew something we didn’t and still don’t. They knew of prayer and meditation long before we ever did. When we hear of these herbal remedies and holistic healing, the Chinese are usually the first thing that comes to mind. We here in the Western World are not allowed to believe in that hokey stuff, we’re to believe what we’re brainwashed to believe. As evidenced, as a statement of FACT, we Americans are fed toxins! And we buy what they sell us, believe it won’t hurt us, yet we have one of the highest cancer rates in the world.

God placed these herbal remedies, natural cures here for us and as much as we say we read the bible we look over the parts of what they ate, what spices they used and what herbs were used as natural remedies for the ill. Mistletoe is just now being studied at the Bethesda Cancer hospital in Maryland, it's been studied in Germany for YEARS, frankincense is another element under study as a cancer cure, CURE people, not a pacifying drug that will mimic additional years added to your life!

Another cure surrounded by stigma sits in the facts in way of cannabis oil. The state of Nebraska has shot down the bill that would legalize the oil medicinally meaning guess what, cancer patients have to DIE or obtain the stuff illegally or move to a state where it is legal. Their reasoning? Legalizing medicinal Cannabis oil would encourage kids to smoke pot! How stupid is that? THAT’S what our country faces, people and politicians who don’t WANT what is best for the ill but what looks good and acceptable to the easily manipulated older folks. They accept whatever the government feeds them. I cannot comprehend why we are so far behind in finding cures. They say we need more money but what is the money for, to pay the researchers? A billion dollar industry doesn’t become that way unless funds are being misspent.

Why would medicinal oil encourage kids to smoke marijuana? They’re going to smoke weed anyway and they could care less about the medicinal oil hiding within the hemp plant. This from a government who has a nation addicted to pharmaceuticals. Does any of this make sense? It sure doesn’t to me. I’m a victim and the government is the abuser. They say it is my body and my choice but it certainly doesn’t feel like it as they try to force me into submission.

So what’s left? Prayer, that is the one mighty power that the government can’t control, charge money for or withhold from the people. Prayer is the one healer that doctors have zero belief in or control over. Prayer is my most powerful tool in beating this crud that’s decided to take up residence in me. My mind, my body, my soul CRAVES healing and in the Power of Prayer I WILL RECEIVE healing. 

When I got my PET scan the other day it was prayer and meditation that got me through the ninety-minute ordeal. After the young lady checks your blood sugar, mine was eighty, she injects you with radioactive dye. She then shuts the light off and leaves you alone for forty-five minutes as it goes through your system. They need minimal brain activity so you’re left in solitude.

Those forty-five minutes went pretty quickly as I wrapped myself in prayer and meditation. When the girl returned to the room, it had only seemed like twenty minutes. Just twenty more minutes left under the lights of the scan. Being claustrophobic, meditation is what I used to see me through the tube.

Now onto twenty minutes in the tube. The machine wasn’t the BIG O CT scan looking machine; the O was a much smaller and a tighter fit. The onc. doctor had given me a pill to take to calm me down before my scan but I, not liking to take drugs, didn’t take it and trusted God to be with me and get me through this. The machine hummed into life as I was being fed into its mouth. Eyes closed, as the humming and flashing of lights whirled around me, meditation began.

When I heard the words, “We’re done” it was music to my ears. I mistakenly opened my eyes as I was being backed out of the tube and I thanked the Lord for holding my hand during the entire ordeal. I was free to go on with my day, radioactive for eight hours, whatever that means. Was I now in the position to turn into the Incredible Hulk?  

I stopped by the Herbal Supplement store and there stood an elderly lady at the register, known by her fist name by the cashier. The small store was bustling with business. I guess this is only the first or second store in this area of this kind. Living in a state that is broken into counties by 70 miles or so, these kinds of stores are rare. Nebraska is way behind in the times. Actually, I feel like I’ve gone back in time where the only thing available is what is offered unless you feel like traveling. I’d be very comfortable in a horse and buggy on these dirt roads. 

This illness is not a death sentence as so many are misled to believe. I do have a choice and I choose to live. I will walk hand in hand with my Father as we sail through the storms of life. He has calmed the storms for me and in prayer, we communicate on an hourly basis. I’m reminded how the Healer HEALS. Those are not just words thrown into a book for show, the healing words are the TRUTH that we all live and believe, right? I know I do, there is POWER in PRAYER! Alleluia AMEN!

Pss. 34:18-20 “The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the LORD delivereth him out of them all. He keepeth all his bones: not one of them is broken.”

I Choose To Believe

Gen. 15:6 "And he believed in the LORD; and he counted it to him for righteousness."

I Choose To Believe

I have a new favorite movie, it’s titled Little Boy and it’s about faith, racism, hate, love and belief. It shows the strength of one little boy who gains faith so that he can move mountains AND that he can will his father home from the war. I like this show so much that I watch it over and over again when I feel doubt seeping into my life and it pulls me out of the mire. 

As you should know by now I have been diagnosed with cancer; Her2 positive stage 3. The first day I was told I was devastated because like you, the word cancer elicits fear and immediately the word death falls from your lips. How do I know? I’ve had too many people in my life fall victim and die that’s how. ALL chose chemo, ALL are now deceased. 

The next day I woke up empowered to change this diagnosis and fight it head on. It’s no different than Christ calling you into battle and you either fall to the sheep and follow behind what the majority of men and women on this earth would do, or you take up arms and fight for Him.

I drastically halted my lifestyle in one day; no sugars and no carbs. Had I done this sooner, I might not be here writing about this diagnosis but it is what it is and here I am finding a way to LIVE. What I found with this shift was that I had no food to eat. I looked in the fridge and there was food, but the meat was chemically enhanced for taste, the cheese processed, the boxed food all had chemicals that would feed the cancer, even the vegetables were chemically treated with toxins for better growth and sprayed with pesticides, rinsing them, soaking them in vinegar is not going to take out what was put into something as simple as a carrot. 

I went through the week nibbling on toxins until I could find a weapon on the battleground. Organic, cancer-fighting techniques that could actually STOP the progress of all the toxins I’d had in my body. I would halt the growth of the cancer that I was feeding on a daily basis. The little YouCaringFund is essential in helping me in this battle! I thank each and every one of you for fighting this battle WITH me not against me. I love you!

What I’m finding out is that we all have the cancer cells dormant in our body and it's just a matter of time until they wake up and decide to take over all the cells in your body until you no longer have a defense mechanism in place. That small lump is fed day after day by your chemically treated water, your nice big fat juicy steak that was shot up with steroids, your vegetables that were sprayed with toxic chemicals before they were processed and treated to another chemical treatment so they last longer on the shelf.

You’ll say you don’t agree with the way our food is chemically treated, yet day after day your placing chemicals and toxins in your body that you think is good food because you think it was properly handled. Just how was that fish caught out in the Pacific Ocean tasting until the thought of Fukushima Japan had a chemical leak popped into your head? You rinsed it? You cleaned it? And that made it all better? I guess the poison didn’t get into the meat of the fish, huh? 

The following week after my diagnosis, I was told that chemotherapy would be used in the fight of my cancer. Wait a minute, it is the toxins and chemicals in the food and water that got me here and I’m supposed to just let you shoot me up with more toxins and radiation?  I might as well eat all of the Pacific Ocean fish I can, it’s not going to hurt me right? Radiation is good, right?

Research, that’s what I need and you know what I found out? Radiation is not good. Radiation will kill the cancer cells but it will also kill any other immune-boosting cells I have. More research, page after page, hour after hour, the result? I can beat cancer without chemotherapy. Chemotherapy is the LAST resort, not the FIRST resort. 

If you can go into battle with vitamins, oils and hoop-de-la witch doctor fanatics (that’s what everyone believes self-treatment is really) why are people still dying of cancer? Let me put it this way, just because you took the fish out of the water and cleaned him up, it isn’t fighting what built up his muscle throughout his life. 

Holistic healing is just that, HEALING the meat on my body from within with God given herbs, fruits, and vegetables that were essentially put here for us to nurture our bodies with. The almighty dollar got in the way as the government allowed its people to be slowly deprived of the real nutrition that would sustain our life. They shot up our cows and pigs and poultry and gardens as well as our waterways with TOXIC CHEMICALS. We are now junkies relying on our fix and I am fighting back just as any other drug addict would. Do they treat drug addicts with chemo? No, why not? 

Cancer is NOT a death sentence, it is a wake-up call! Am I going to die? Yes, I am but I will go out fighting! Are you going to die? Most definitely, you don’t know when or how no more than I do. Do I want to live? Most definitely, just as much as you do but I’m taking action right now right this minute as I purify my system not toxify. If I continue in cleaning up my body the old way with toxins and poisons, vitamins and supplements will never reach the portion of my biological chemistry that's needed to change the outcome.

Remember, cleaning off the fish is not going to make him healthy enough to eat, he has to be cleansed from the INSIDE and there is only one way to do that, counterattack the toxins in his system. Fish need to be nourished not destroyed. Man needs to start tending his garden now not shooting up to get his fix for another day. 

Back to the movie Little Boy, he believed! He believed he could end the war, he believed he could will his father home, he believed! He had the faith of a mustard seed and that is all we’re asked to have. I BELIEVE I can beat this! I BELIEVE I can win the battle! I don’t believe in chemo so how is that going to help me? I CHOOSE TO BELIEVE!

p.s. If you have a negative opinion and goes against what I BELIEVE please keep it to yourself. It’s not helping, it only adds negativity to an ocean of positivity. 

Top Ten Trigger List

acidic vs akaline

An alkaline chart:

Matt. 17:20  "And Jesus said unto them, Because of your unbelief: for verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you."

Never Feel Alone

 Pss. 55:1 “Give ear to my prayer, O God; and hide not thyself from my supplication.”

Never Feel Alone

Now before you tell me that I am never alone, God is always with me, I got that down, I’ve been feeling lonely as people react at the mere mention of the enemy Cancer that is attacking me. I feel like I’m accepting the diagnosis better than they are. 

For the past week since I the hammer fell, I’ve been embracing optimism. I have hope and promise in my hand and I just so happen to be walking around with a mustard seed in my hand. My faith is actually bigger but those around me physically, may not be on the same fulfilling promise of their faith. That concerns me.

My mother-in-law wants to come and see me and I am fine with that. If she needs to see the Light of Jesus shining through me, then there really is a purpose and reason for everything and I believe that with every fiber of my being.

I wrote to her in all earnestness and asked her what she was coming out to my house with; pity, sorrow or hope and positive input? I know she surrounds me with love but I can honestly from ten miles away sense the pity in her tone the sorrow in her words, the fear in every letter of the alphabet.

Deut. 28:66 “And thy life shall hang in doubt before thee; and thou shalt fear day and night, and shalt have none assurance of thy life:”

Just a few comments (not all) from DEAR friends. Full names withheld for privacy reasons. 

Mike said: “People fear death because they have no hope. They've been brainwashed into thinking it's [death] something really bad.”

Donna said: “It's normal for people that love you to be upset. Of course, you do not want pity but God will use you during this time to help him established his Kingdom.”

Shellie said: “I believe very firmly that we are healed through the stripes Jesus took for us!! You have many friends and family praying and loving you through this process! I also believe that staying as positive as possible is a must do in healing.”

My favorite response by Tom: “People fear most that which they cannot control; they think that if they eat right, think right and do right, they can control everything. Even Christians get coaxed into thinking their reward is in the blessings of this life. But then Cancer, ALS, MS, and Parkinson's diseases come along and confront their/our comfort in THIS life, taking away our self-confidence. But confidence in "self" is not confidence in God. Trusting in God, and placing CONFIDENCE in His will, is what ultimately allows us to make a smooth transition from this life to the next.”

One of MY responses: “Exactly! And I don't feel like God is saying (to ME) choose chemo, prolong your life over choose ME, *I* AM the WAY, THE TRUTH, and the LIFE. And I will take you when I'm good and ready no matter WHAT you choose.”

Pss. 27:6 “And now shall mine head be lifted up above mine enemies round about me: therefore will I offer in his tabernacle sacrifices of joy; I will sing, yea, I will sing praises unto the LORD.”

Does my comment scare you? I understand that they’ve made great strides in the medical field but the treatment is still the same as it was forty years ago, drugs, chemo, radiation. Let me ask you this all of you political aficionados if the enemy from another country threatened your life, is attacking that country with radiation your first line of defense? No? Why not? Because it would KILL innocent people along with the bad! THAT is exactly what chemotherapy does; it KILLS the bad cells but also wipes out the GOOD cells needed to SURVIVE! I’m just choosing another line of defense for now.

When you get the big C diagnosis there is a flurry of bombardments from every angle. The treatments offered are only the ones that the doctors submit you up for, it’s their job. I keep hearing about positive thoughts and prayers are essential in healing but my Oncologists is sworn to Conventional Treatment and if I don’t go that route, she’s out some money I’m sure. 

How can chemo help me if I don’t BELIEVE it can help me? Chemo would NOT work for me because I don’t believe it can help me. I don’t have a positive mindset where chemo is concerned. Sure, they can pretend it is going to work, they can pump me with drugs and radiate me, but if I would go into a treatment that I didn’t have one iota of faith in helping me, how could treatment in that manner save me?

Now, I have faith in medicinal herbs, always have and always will. Why? Because I’ve always believed that God put a cure for EVERY illness right here under our noses and in front of our eyes, but we are too blind to see. We are too bogged with taking a ‘doctors orders’ to see something else that might benefit our disease/illness.

Don’t get me wrong, there are some doctors who go against the grain and are superb and richly needed but are they open to hearing YOU! Do they dismiss any hope you have by shrugging off your faith, your belief, and your wishes? If your doctor gives off negative vibes and a me, me, me attitude, is that the doctor you’re going to want to go with for healing YOU? 

That’s where I’m at, the oncologist left me feeling alone surrounded by people. Now, my friends, they’re a different story I told them I’m choosing this route of holistic healing and they lift me up! Surround me with prayer, and now are supporting me monetarily so I can get all of the vitamins I need to go into battle against the enemy. I have a very prayerful and faithful group of friends.

Isa. 2:12 “For the day of the LORD of hosts shall be upon every one that is proud and lofty, and upon every one that is lifted up; and he shall be brought low:”

My niece started me a sort of GoFundMe page called YouCaring. She asked beforehand if I’d mind and being bombarded with info from everywhere and what I’ll need to fight this enemy, I told her to go for it. Not thinking anything would come of it and I’d be in this battle alone but no, my friends and family came out of the woodwork to help their fellow man (um, woman). I WILL remember those who stood by and lifted me up and I DO thank each and every one who reaches into their bag of riches (can’t take it with you). And I will lift you all in prayer because I LOVE YOU! 

I’m without funds and I know we live in a world where people need every penny that they have, I totally get that and understand because I’m in the same boat with you. But not to share the link is leaving me alone, all alone in this fight of mine. It costs nothing to share the link, it is showing me visually that you support me on this journey. With a share, you are spreading a positive love and acceptance of me. I love you for that!  

Luke 6:20 “And he lifted up his eyes on his disciples, and said, Blessed be ye poor: for yours is the kingdom of God.”

Fear has crept into some, fear of the unknown. They don’t know enough about the disease, but I do know it’s not contagious. Staying away from me and ignoring me isn’t going to keep it from your doorstep. I’ve read that this cell was more than likely growing inside me for the past ten years and now it is full blown in an ‘I can feel you lump’ fashion. Unhealthy eating was the fertile soil the cell needed to grow. 

Come along with me on this journey of a lifetime! Hold on though, it’s not a fantasy trip; we’re going to the deepest depths of reality and there is NOTHING to fear because GOD is with me, with US, all the way. While I love you all, I love Him even more!

Pss. 5:3 “My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, O LORD; in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up.”

MY new motto! "The face of the CURE not the face of the Disease!"

May God touch you all, in the same way, He IS TOUCHING ME!