year from hell - or my life is not my own

So I was really hoping to write more over here, but then life got in the way.

Stage 3 breast cancer.  All I can say is cancer doesn't care how well you take care of yourself (never smoked, vegetarian for most of my life, organic for the past 10 years, gluten free for the past 8, etc), doesn't discriminate at all.....no family history (well most female relatives are deceased and deceased long enough that they probably never had any mammograms anyway).

Just the fact that something smaller than 1/2 a grain of rice can cause this much turmoil is someone's body is just beyond belief.  I still have days where I catch myself wondering what the hell happened to my life?  Plus it's silent, you can't feel it (well it was so small no one could) you don't feel bad....people ask me how I'm feeling and this is not like you had an attack of appendicitis and had it taken out and felt better.  I felt NOTHING and now have felt like crap for the past 8 months.

Those of you who don't know the whole story, I may as well start from the beginning.  Over 50 (yikes!), yearly mammograms.  My philosophy for some strange reason (maybe I always knew this would happen? more on that in a bit) was that I'd see my doc in the fall and have the mammogram in the spring, that way whatever showed up would have no more than a 6 month head start on me......well if you can't feel it, that goes right out the window.

So I went in February for my yearly and got 'called back' - not unusual though it hasn't happened in some time, I do have some cysts, but I think with the new digital films, they can see them and know they are there year after year, so don't call you back. I had a feeling all along that all was not well, and I can't explain why.  So I went back and had another one with an ultrasound.  The tech was very very serious and spent close to an hour looking around, then she went out of the room and the Chief of Radiology came in and looked at the stills she'd snapped and kept saying, that's not it, no that's not it.....she started looking around and lo and behold all of a sudden this ugly, tiny, tick-like 'thing' appears on the screen.  It had all kinds of 'legs' coming out from it.  Honestly, I knew right then and there.  She started talking about scheduling a biopsy, the earliest they could get was in 10 days.  I got out to my car and was saying 'what the hell just happened in there?' to myself.....

10 days later I went back for the biopsy, now I don't do blood and guts AT ALL. I was looking at the ultrasound, which the tech spent close to an hour trying to find it again (so tiny), the doctor was going on and on about what she going to do, the noises the 'gun' would make, how many samples she'd get, how she'd put in a marker when she was done, etc.  So I'm looking away with my arm up over my head and I could feel stuff running down my neck, so I ask her if it's blood and she says yes, we'll clean you up when we're done...wonderful.  I'll also talk about the amazing medical people later as well.  There was a CNA in the room and she had to put her full body weight on the gauze to help reduce any later swelling, she was a big girl, very very nice.  When you have kids, you kinda lose any sense of modesty, all these people (Women and Infants is a teaching hospital) coming in to look up your crotch.  Having breast cancer is almost as bad.  So I have this very nice young woman with all her weight on my breast to stop the bleeding for 15 minutes, so we have a nice conversation (I mean what else are ya gonna do???) about my tattoos.  And then I had to have another mammogram to make sure the marker was in place. Gee if you think it's nothing, why do you need a marker to 'find' it again? They also told me that 80% of biopsies are negative.

I got home from that and I went online to my AFLAC policy to put in that I'd had a mammogram.  I've had AFLAC for about 10 years, as a State worker, we don't get disability insurance, so you have to buy your own.  The guy that reps us when I signed up had told me about this 'woman's' policy that pays for a wellness visit and any cancer screening (pap smear, colonoscopy) and a yearly mammogram.  It pays out more than you pay for the policy.  While I'm on the site putting the info in, I see a PDF that says 'cancer policy', so I clicked on it, and this gobbledygook comes up.  I email my rep and ask him, did I buy a cancer policy?  There's NO cancer in my family, it's all heart disease, NONE.  I have NO IDEA why I bought a cancer policy but I did.  I told him I just had a biopsy, he told me if God forbid it comes back yes, to tell him and he'll get the ball rolling on my benefits.

They say about  a week for results....I knew though, the demeanor in the room, you could just tell, I asked them later (had the same 'team' the day of my surgery) if they can 'tell' and they said they don't like to make those calls as they are not the doctors, but yes, sometimes they can.  A few days later, my gyn (she actually delivered Becca, my youngest, and had left the practice I was in.  My main doc had become an admin at the hospital, so I went to her after he was gone) called me while I was at work and started with I'm sorry but I have bad news.  This was also the day I had decided to get tickets to the Rolling Stones no matter how much money it cost as I had never seen them and they ain't getting any younger.  The fact that she called me on my cell at work and EVERYBODY happened to be there meant that EVERYBODY knew. She also asked me who I wanted as a surgeon.  In RI, there is only ONE guy, I had seen him years ago to look at the cysts that I had, and he's continually written up as being THE best, so I said him.

I drove around aimlessly for a bit and ended up stopping at my hematologist who takes care of my IV (for immunology issues).  He's also oncology.  I left him a message (he NEVER called me back, btw).  I got home and my gyn called me again and said, 'Listen, I know you didn't hear anything after I told you I had bad news, so I'm calling you again, do you have any questions?' she then went on to give me her cellphone and home number in case I needed anything, but said she was not in charge of this, the surgeon would be, and she had gotten me in with him the next day.

One thing about breast cancer, you need to stay OFF the internet.  It's very individual and what works for you doesn't work for others, no 2 people are the same.  There's no good news on the internet.

I went to see the surgeon and he told me it was 'nothing' in the scheme of cancers.  It was tiny.  It wasn't there last year.  He told me I was the perfect candidate for a new process called targeted radiation, in fact, chemo was optional for this.  He'd set up the surgery, he'd put in a 'placeholder' for the apparatus, and instead of 8 weeks of DAILY radiation, I'd be done in 5 days.  He told me this would be a blip on the radar and be 2 weeks out of my life.  He held his hands apart, wide and said if this is stage 4 pancreatic cancer, then he had his hands almost touching, and said this is you.  He booked me into see the Radiation doc the next day.

I went to see her, she's a 'wicked' (as we say in New England) girlie girl.  High spikey heels, dressy dress, talks with an itty bitty voice, but very very nice.  Behind her I see this: http://www.mammosite.com/physicians/radiation-therapy/how-it-works.cfm  and ask her what's that...she tells me that's the target radiation device......I say so when you take it out, I'm asleep, right....no.......lidocaine......no......we tell you to take your pain meds that day, we just pull it out......once again, I'm not blood and guts, but I tell her if I'm on the floor passed out, just keep going, because it's 5 days versus 35 days, gotta suck it up and do it.

In the meantime, it's St. Paddy's day.  I go out with my friends.  They offered to shave their heads in support (they didn't, though they work in the public, but I know many who have done it in support and reaped the rewards of doing such a kind thing for a friend, whatever).  Only my 'fourth' child shaved her head for me (and it was adorable) and my daughter's boyfriend.

There are lots more tests, bloodwork, an MRI where you lay on your stomach and your boobs hang down underneath you, all totally mortifying experiences, but once again, the people, techs, nurses are amazingly kind. At one point, I stopped at billing to pick up info as AFLAC needed certain things to pay me.  Let's start that they paid me $3000 just for HAVING cancer.  I see an extra paper (I had paid my surgeon for my record from him, $25, yet the same info was FREE from the hospital, go figure) from what I already had talking about hormone receptors.  So I call him and ask about it, they ask me where did I get that? At the hospital....What are you doing there? I had to have an MRI....Who ordered that? Radiation......we'll get back to you......

I have my surgery at the end of April.  You arrive early because you have to go next door to RI Hospital and have this radioactive dye injected into you to see where that area drains, because they take out what is referred to as the 'sentinel' lymph nodes....just to see if it has spread there because there is ductwork....the guy doing the x ray from that looks like Turk from Scrubs, but I lost it in there because it's all just becoming too real, once again, what the hell happened here?    I see my surgeon before I go in and once again, he reiterates that this is nothing, don't worry, you'll be fine, it'll be over before you know it.

Since my surgeon knows my feelings about blood and guts, he has me bandaged and taped up the wazoo, but I can 'feel' this thing under my arm, a tube, it's the 'placeholder' for the targeted radiation thingy.....ewwww.

I wasn't THAT sore, most of the breast tissue is fatty, I did hurt a lot under my arm where he took out the lymph nodes.

5 days later I'm back in his office.  He starts with I'm really sorry (hate it when they start with that phrase).  I think we got it all, but it was in the margins of surrounding tissue and in all the lymph nodes we took out.  I'm going to refer you to an oncologist and you can speak to him......and then he says, you are no longer a candidate for targeted radiation (and he knows how skeeved I was about that) so I say, halfheartedly, 'yay? and I went from stage 1 to stage 3.  Sucks to be me.

He unwraps me (my radiation doc has said she thinks he has stock in the tape company, it took weeks and all kinds of people to get that VERY sticky tape residue off my skin) and then he takes out this huge syringe and attaches it to the placeholder to 'deflate' it (EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW) and yanks it out (ouch!!!).  He also profusely apologizes to me for telling me it was nothing.  He's been doing this a long time and usually something so tiny is not this aggressive.

He gets me in with oncology the next day (see how amazing these people are, they move right along with getting you in with the other 'best' people).

The oncologist is adorable, he just is too cute for words.  He is the chief researcher for the hospital. He tells me he has a study (and they have your tissue as they own it when it comes out) that shows that chemo only is effective on women with small cell cancers 4% of the time.  Me being a numbers person and a geek, ask him a lot of statistics questions.  Recurrence rate for 5 years is 27%, they won't even quote you 10 years.  I actually have 2 types of cancer in that tissue, plus it was in all 3 lymph nodes.  His study does not take into consideration that it has spread.  I'm not holding up radiation by waiting for his results because they won't start until 3-4 week after anyway.  In my head, I'm deciding I'm doing chemo anyway, I'm not going to kick myself in 5 years.  At first, I didn't think he had any sense of humour.  He was going on about wearing sunscreen (being Armenian (well and Irish) I usually don't need it) and I said why am I going to get cancer? and he didn't laugh.  But last month when we were discussing the hormone medication, I told him I heard it made you 'fat and crabby' and why can't they ever give you anything that makes you happy and skinny, and he looked me straight in the eye and said, 'Oh, like cocaine?'......so he does have one.

I go back (end of May now) and he tells me I'm not one of the 4% of women, but he has another study where he throws your name into the computer and the computer picks half for chemo and half not for chemo (not experimental or a blind study, you could never do a blind study in humans for chemo unless there was no hope), I figure I'll take my chances (he then 'follows' you for 15 years) and if it comes up no, I'll do it anyway.  Well this time it came up yes.  I meet with this huge team I now have.  I have a care coordinator, a research coordinator, a nutritionist, a chemo nurse, I also continued to see my acupuncture doctor (who used to work at the breast center, but was on her own for a few years now) and a few other people, including this really nice but very strange guy from Czech republic who does the lymphodemia clinic (yes, no needles, no tattoos, no nothing on my left side EVER because of the lymph nodes being gone, I told my doc using the word 'never' to me is like a dare!)

They told me not to drink (not that I drink that much, but your liver is in overdrive so why make it harder?).

They put off chemo for a couple of weeks because I have bec's graduation and the Rolling Stones, but not long enough for her party, you have to start at some point.

I started chemo the 3rd week of June, every 3 weeks, 4 times.  The summer sucked.  It was 100 degrees most of it, I was REALLY sick (crawling out of my skin) from the anti nausea drugs the first round and missed her graduation party, where I'd planned to tell a number of people in person, because of that, never took them again and was 'fine' (as fine as you can be on chemo)...spent a week in the hospital for fevers, was in the ER for fevers and NOT admitted more than I can count, had to get a shot the day after to keep me out of the hospital....really sucked....I spent most of it on my new couch in my house without A/C, food tasted terrible, drank mostly lemon flavoured water and ate applesauce.  And United HELLth had a $100 co pay every time I went to the ER (as my doctor REQUIRED) and was not admitted.

I had friends who stepped up and were amazing.....I had strangers become friends and be amazing.  My family was great, I had family crawl outta the woodwork, like my cousin :) ....I lost all my hair.  I didn't do a lot all summer, but a few people came and made me go to the beach or out for the day just to get me away from it.  I bought a new car (AFLAC money, well I traded in my 1 year old car that I wasn't fond of so it wasn't THAT much, they also 'paid' for my Stone's tickets). I tried to find my happy place and couldn't for a long time.  I did get to 'the block' a couple of times, once by myself and once with a friend/my co worker who asked to go last minute, as that was always my 'happy place'.

Speaking of AFLAC, they have been great.  I can't even begin to tell you how much money they have given me, tax free because it's not replacing my income, it's an insurance policy....and yes I am talking tens of thousands of dollars.  Right now, I get $300 for EVERY chemo script I fill (every month, for years) and I don't have a copay for that at all.  $300 EVERY time I went to radiation (33 times).  I'm just banking it all because if I ever can't work, I'm so uninsurable. Once again, NO IDEA why I bought the policy.

I worked through most of it, even though I didn't feel like it, it was a nice distraction (though week 2 you can't be around a lot of people because your immune system plummets), I continued agility with the dog (exhausting, but when you have a Border Collie, you can't take a break from that stuff).  He continued to compete (and was an idiot but manged to make his times and place in tunnelers). I started back teaching when fall came, and my class was an amazing group of students.  I've never had such a great class in all my years at RIC (and they all passed, and I still had 22 of them at the end, I thought maybe they just felt bad for me, but several emailed me and the department chair and said I was the best professor they'd ever had).

I started radiation end of September and that was EVERY day.  Before that, they measure you and you get 'prison' tattoos because it has to be exact.  They cannot radiate directly over your heart so they have a nuclear physicist plot the angles and you get radiated from (in my case) 5 different angles.  I got 2nd degree burns 3/4 of the way though it and thought THAT was going to scar me for life, and they did quit a week early because it was so bad.  I couldn't wear a seat belt for weeks, couldn't even stand clothing on it.  I had burn cream, holistic creams, a cream from my acupuncture doctor that smelled like Chinese food, nothing helped, it was raw, peeling every day, horrible for almost a month.  I still have uncomfortable places where they 'shot' me.  And I got exhausted, not all the time, but it was like a 'wave' of it....nothing that sleep would help, pure exhaustion, and I still have that.  Still have significant pain under my arm, which runs down my arm to my pinky and finger next to it, which I'll probably always have.  Pain where the incision was when I lay on it.  Sick from the meds, but I refuse to give in to it and just keep going.  My oncologist told me to stop beating myself up about how truly tired and crappy I feel because of what I've been through, but I just think I want it over with and once I feel more like myself, that'll be good.

The next hurdle, when does it come back? Well it never really went away as I'm still on chemo because it's in my bloodstream, ya'd think after all this it'd just go away but no...and daily hormone medicine for 5 years because it's hormone receptor positive, which means if you stop them, it should NEVER come back, which is my oncologist's goal (and mine of course).

So the nurses, medical people, docs?  Amazing people, every one of them.  You're having a bad day (and there were a few, I really tried to keep that to myself and lose it in the shower or someplace alone) they are there to give you a hug or a word of encouragement.  They yell at you for things like carrying your pocketbook over the shoulder of the arm where the lymph nodes came out (her voice rings in my head every time I pick up my purse now!)  The radiation people you see EVERY day for 2 months, so you tend to get closer to them than the others.  And of course, this being RI, 2 of them knew me from high school.

The day of my surgery, I had to have another MRI, ultrasound, and mammogram, all done by my original diagnostic team, including the CNA who pushed me around in the wheelchair that day.  In the ER, the hospital is the baby hospital, no sick people there, just pregnant ones, they get you right into their oncology suite (the intake nurse told me their chemo patients are their VIPs) and you see the same team each time, And poor Dr. Fogarty is always on call.

So my hair is growing back, it's blonde (??) not sure what it's going to end up looking like.  I did not get a wig even though I could have for free, there just wasn't anything that looked like my hair, plus it was 100 degrees all summer.  I wore my Red Sox hat and they won the World Series, now I'm wearing my Pats hat and though they've been the heart attack team this year and I doubt they can win the Super Bowl, I'm trying.  My friend at work also got diagnosed a couple of months ago, her's is different (not spread, not hormone positive) but she has the same doctors and team that I had so I know she's in good hands and it's been nice to have someone to help though this process.  She's also very funny and has a great attitude about it, she cracks me up constantly because I think right now you can only joke about something like this with someone going through, or just gone though it. I have friends that have had cancer and breast cancer, but not here, in state, and not recent, the treatments change, etc.

I have learned that though I thought I was pretty strong, I'm really not.  I thought all the stuff with Becca was hard, and parts of my life were hard (losing my parents young, getting divorced, etc.), but this has been the absolute worst.  Finding out EXACTLY who your friends are has been a huge reality check.  It doesn't matter if you've been friends for 40 years or 4 months, not that I ever expected anyone to 'help' me as I'm just not like that. I don't normally ever ask for help, but there are times where you just need it, you need your (closest) friend to talk to and I didn't have that, for whatever reason. (I have others that have stepped up though, so turned out not to be so much of an issue as a disappointment).  I kept most of this to myself because I didn't want to burden anyone, although I did 'whine' online from time to time and felt bad about it.....anyway, this has made me question my perception of my relationships and I ended up deciding to just move on because in the end, it's THEIR issue, their choices, their lives that got in the way I guess, and you cannot control the way people react, or expect anything from anyone, ever, like I had ANY control over this!

I know people that you never ask how they are because they'll go on about their ear, their shoulder and every freakin' minor health issue in the big scheme of things for 20 minutes and always have a worse case scenario story, or have to top whatever you may have going on.  I NEVER wanted to be that person and made a very conscious effort over the years not to be, and with this nonsense especially, to be sure to ask about them and their lives and not go on about cancer, besides, you get so sick of talking about cancer.....but then there are those that you don't see very often and you have to explain where your hair went, or where you've been.

You make time for a friend, even a little time, especially when they are in the hospital and or faced with a catastrophic illness.  Little things like stopping by with coffee or getting out of the house go a long way and certainly help you forget at least for a moment that this nonsense that you have NO control over and has taken over your life is present.

So that's been my last 9 or so months.  I had to go back to my gyn last week, where this all began.  She hugged me as I haven't seen her since all this started....now we'll see what 2014 will bring, I can't imagine it could be much worse, but I'm knocking on wood for that.  As I've said all along, I don't have time for this nonsense, but you have no choice.  You have to make time, you have to take it easy (I deal by going to bed by 8 pm most nights).  I'm not the type to sit home and mope about it, although some days I'm just so exhausted and/or sick that I'm forced to, there's nothing I did to 'deserve' this, or that I can question myself on (did I stand too close to the microwave? It's Monsanto and their GMO's fault (I really believe that's part of it....don't get me started on our food supply being poisoned!)), should have done, shouldn't have done......I go to who they told me to, when they told me to (for the most part....there were times when I couldn't and then they found out I was still working, they thought I was crazy, in fact they assume you are not working through this).  I heard one story from my radiation people that patients come in and need TWO treatments, and not even for cancer, and are asking to get 'written' out of work, I didn't ask until visit 30 and that was just because I was so burned I couldn't stand clothing, the seat belt, etc.

Those of you that have distracted me, old and new friends, online and real life, I can never thank or repay you for your kindness.  Thank you to those of you who have been incredibly kind and supportive this year, to me and my family, you are truly the best friends I could ever ask for and I will never forget the little and big things that you did for me and with me.  Happy New Year.

karma (chameleon?)

This whole few weeks and the Karma, it's gotten to the point where it's more than 1 thing.  I've always believed in Karma, if you're (basically) a good/kind person, others will be the same to you (well most, there's always that one or two).  And if you're a jerk, eventually it will come back to bite you.

Take my uncle (please! LOL, sorry).  He was a slum landlord.  My Aunt (my dad's sister) and he were in the news all the time for lead paint laden homes, etc..  My parents had died by the time I was 20.  My Grandfather (widowed when I was maybe 22) was a farmer, but he saved his money, he owned a repair/gas station on a very busy street, that because the main shopping artery once 95 went though (and 95 cut into his farmland, so he got paid for that) eventually he gave up the 'split' part of his farm to retail and made a bunch off that.  You'd never know it, he lived simply and farmed.

When he passed away, it was a couple of days before Christmas.  He ALWAYS had a $500 bill for EACH of the great grandchildren (I think I was the only one with kids at the time, and that was only 2) to put away for college, before great grandchildren, it was the grandchildren (me, my brother, my 3 cousins).  I know he had the bills because I saw them in the cards when I stopped in the day before he died.  And not that I cared about me not getting the money, wasn't that at all, it was the weasal-y way it just went missing.

My uncle/aunt the slumlords, had what my Grandfather used to call, a big fancy house and a big fancy dog in a big fancy neighbourhood.  He also had the BMWs, etc.  As I said, my grandfather lived very simply (I actually lived with him for a few months between selling/buying a home, and I used the money that he had saved for me as the down payment, he was very proud of that).

Now as my dad had died 12 years or so earlier, it was only my aunt.  Turns out my grandfather had never fixed his will to go further than his kids.  So it went my grandmother (deceased) got everything, if she was gone, my dad (deceased) and my aunt.  So my aunt got his house (on said main road still), with an acre of land, and everything he owned.

She asked me if I wanted anything. I said I'd have liked his 15 year old blue station wagon volvo.  It was his car, he used to take all 5 (and I'm the oldest, other than my brother a year younger, 3 years apart each) of us out for a day in the summer.  My mother called him a saint.  He'd take us to the railroad museum or the big farm fair or some historically accurate living museum.  He'd give us an envelope of money to spend on our own and if you didn't have enough left for dinner, you were outta luck.  And we always road in the back of the station wagon and threw stuff out the window, you know those big ass ones from the 70's with the rear facing back seat. It was a great time.

She said no.

She offered me the Flintstones jelly glasses.

I essentially had nothing left from him.

So back to Karma.  He was worth a lot of money.  They took it everything, sold his house, his car, everything.... all of a sudden, they're doing all this work on their house.  Imported 1" thick ceramic tile for the kitchen that he had to LOWER the entire floor for it to fit and then extra support it for the weight.  Turns out, my uncle had gotten him to remortgage his home so he could take his money.

Several years later, my uncle lost his house, had to file for bankruptcy, got divorced (although I hear they are back together, they're in their 80s now). 2 of his kids no longer speak to him.

Karma, as they say, can be a bitch.

Back to this last month.  So I took my child's friend in.  It's not courageous or generous or any other 'ous' word, it was just the right thing to do.  No money involved (although there is a little bit now, but I'm going to put it in an account for her so she'll have something next year when she needs to get an apartment (goals from the program she's in).  Just a kid who needed some help.  I collect homeless animals as well as a lot of you know.

Tonight there is a 'prom' at the local ARC.  My child was not invited to the school prom (which I heard sucked anyway!) as I had hoped one of the guys that plays on her basketball game would do.  This is all the kids with special needs prom.  My new child said she wanted to go (she's not special needs) but since she's changed schools, she wasn't asked either, I guess I could have sent them both, but it was really late to get getting tickets by the time she came here.  The new child literally left her home with the clothes on her back and though she came with A dress, it's not A prom dress.

So first I have to email the center and ask if she can come, it was $15 to go and included my child and her staff person (my treatment is today so I can't drive or get there).  He said send her.  Now this is the first year for this event, and though I have an overall issue with it being NON INCLUSIVE, it's still good for this young people who would not otherwise be invited to their own HS proms.  The news had gotten a hold of it and in came donations of food, dresses, jewelry, you name it.  My child had gotten a dress with her worker a month ago.  My new child, I said go into the closet, we have a lot of dresses and we'll find you something.  The center is telling me they want NO MONEY for her to go and told me to send her over because they still had dresses there for free that she could pick from (donated from the local bridal shop).  Before I had gotten the 2nd email that he said she could get a dress, I had stopped to get my allergy shot.  The nurse there also has had many foster children and since I'm there every freakin' week for an hour, we have time to talk.  So I'm telling her about the whole prom thing and she said she has a closet full of dressy dresses that she got when a bridal store went out of business that she's never worn and was about to give away because she doesn't go to places like that.

Karma.

I said no that's okay, you're working.  I get out at noon.  Well you don't live near here.  I don't care you're taking the dresses.

She came over around 2 with 3 beautiful black dresses and 2 matching lilac obviously bridemaid dresses.  She left all 3 of the black ones here (new child put on a fashion show for us).

On top of that, new child has severe allergies.  She had a doc appointment at the clinic (because she has crappy health insurance) that sucked to say the least.  The doc wasn't interested in anything except throwing meds at her, lecturing her on being independent, and couldn't get her out the door fast enough.  She also screwed up her prescriptions.  I wanted her to get a test for iron because she's always tired.  She gave her pills for insomnia.

I asked my allergist's office last week (the girls in the front) if they took her health insurance, they said no.

I saw my allergist in the hall today and he always asks after my child (12 sets of tubes in 13 years, he loves her!) and I mentioned the new one and I needed to find an allergist that takes her crappy health insurance.  He said bring her in, just tell the girls up front he said it was fine.  He said he always wanted to meet someone from Ghana.

This child has also not seen a dentist in years. Her crappy insurance does cover it, but only at this really bad clinic (and they're about to cut that benefit, I'm on the state Medicaid committee, part of the issue is RI Medicaid only allows $12.50 per dental visit and exactly which dentist will take $12.50, so they are going to drop it totally July 1st if that passes).  I called my dentist.  I've been going to him for only a couple of years (mine retired and the person he sold it to was always 'looking for work' on everyone's teeth because we have good insurance, no thanks). I spoke to the receptionist and explained the situation and she told me to bring her in and made the appointment.  Her daughter in another state takes in kids.  They don't take her insurance, but she told me not to worry about it.

And one more, and all of these have happened (other than the uncle story) in the past week, plus as you all know there are many others (fogies??? furbies????).

I have sterling silver moon bracelet that I wear ALL THE TIME.  I got it from Kirk's Folly (www.kirksfolly.com) as I worked for them for awhile and they are from the village.  I also did my internship for my MA there (database programming).  They used to have this huge sale every year (they mainly sell on QVC now, and online) and I bought it easily 10-15 years ago.  I buy my flowers/veggie plants at this greenhouse near me.  To say the lady that runs is is bitchy is an understatement.  She's always in a bad mood, but I'm used to her, that's why she grows plants!!! Her stuff always grows, she can get me weird stuff (like moon flowers) and I'd rather get stuff from a local business than Home Depot, Lowe's or Wallyworld.

Every time I go in there she asks about the sale and my bracelet, she's always loved it.  Over the years, I've asked them (the Kirk's) if they have any more, mine was a sample (at the sale, they sell a lot of their samples and leftovers and extra QVC stuff).

Last November, they had one finally for the first time in 5 years and Helen (Kirk) had emailed me asking if I wanted to work at it, and I couldn't. But I did go and when she saw me, she said I have something for you.  And she brought out a moon bracelet!  I think it was like $19.  I bought it in November and I did have the greenhouse lady in mind, but then I got thinking about mine and what if it broke or something happened to it (and the greenhouse wasn't open, it just opened the week before Mother's day).

Anyway, I decided to give it to her and went over there (and I was in a HUGE rush) to drop it off to her.

It wouldn't fit over her hand.  She has much thicker wrists than I do.  I felt really bad, but then I took mine off (mine's not round because I wear it all the time, it's more oval) and that went on.  She literally started crying and hugging me.  But I had to run, so I told her I'd be in later to get my plants.

I stopped in yesterday.  Loaded up 3 trays (usual amount) with my flowers and plants and went to check out.  She had the bracelet on.  She rang it up and said $16.  I said no way, that's now why I got you that bracelet, she wouldn't hear of it.  I told her I bought because I was tired of listening to her whine every time I see her! It was pretty funny.  I gave her a $20 to pay and told her to keep it, nope she gave me the $4 back and wouldn't take any more $$. And had her granddaughter take all my stuff out to the car and started waiting on someone else.

the 4th child

I guess I'll start a bit on the 4th child. And it's a 4 year story, with bumps in the road for her (a lot of them) but it's always best to just start at the beginning.

One day, my youngest who has special needs, came home from middle school talking about her new friend. She's never really had any 'friends'. Oh, most of them are nice to her face at school, but it ends when the school day ends, that's for sure. One time she was invited, as was the entire class (I think 1st or 2nd grade) to her first non disabled peers' birthday party. I dropped her off at the house, she was totally excited. When I went back to pick her up 2 hours later, the mom kinda looked really embarrassed and sorta shoved her out to me. Turns out the kids there told her they were going to play hide and seek and locked her in a closet for an hour. And yet my child, with all that she does not see (as in she never sees the bad in anyone, ever) said she made new friends and wanted to go back over there at some point (she never was invited again, and that child never really spoke to her again).

So the friend thing, you can't make kids be friends. That's the bottom line here. Yes you can enforce kindness in school, but it ends there. So when she started with her new friend, I said why don't you ask her for her phone number. She told me she had and the child had said no. So once again, we have a child being nice to her in school that wants no part of her out of school, that's fine, she has someone to eat lunch with.

A couple of weeks go by and I'm at her school for some unknown reason (well I could go into THAT but that's another lousy teacher attitude story, not many of those, but when you get one, you get one) and I'm waiting for said teacher to finish up class and this young lady comes up to her and says that she could not do her homework because there is no computer in the group home where she lives, teacher says, that's okay (child's name). Sure enough it's my child's new friend. She lives in a group home. So I go about finding out that story, and with all the confidentiality in the world, that's not an easy thing. So I have my child send a note home with our number on it. It was a place for very troubled young girls. She was only placed there because there was no other placement available.

She came here from Africa on the 4th of July, by mid July she was in State custody for abuse. She had never met her dad until she came here. Her mom and dad were never married. She was born in a small village, her mom abandoned her to her sister when dad had left (he never knew about her until she was 7). Dad married another woman from RI who brought him here. She went back to her mom, dad found out about her and had her sent to live with his sister in the city. Very well off, boarding school, house by the beach, private driver. No male head of household, her uncle lived in Italy and sold cars and was rarely home.

Dad and step mom sent for her, in the meantime, had gotten divorced (but not really, she's never sent in the papers and he doesn't know that, and he HATES her). I think he only married her to get here (knowing what I know now I can say this and tell this story a lot differently than when it originally happened). So she landed here and went to live with step mom. Now as she tells it (she wouldn't talk about a lot of this until recently, so it was very difficult to get the story, I only had bits and pieces for a long time) she was scared and slept on the floor of her step mom's room. It was hot, it was summer here, I guess dad came over and she was just getting out of the shower, so he accused her of sexual abuse, and took the child home. Now he's a young dad, didn't know her at all before she came here, she's a very immature teenager who has been privileged (he has NO money, barely works, no idea how she got here, but papers state step mom sponsored her) and 2 days of living with him, he stomped on her neck because she wouldn't do what he wanted and that landed her in State custody.

Because there were allegation of sexual abuse (and this was a messy nasty divorce case) she ended up in a 'special' agency that ran some group homes that provided intense services for troubled girls. She was not troubled, but there was no other place for her.

So she started calling her to talk to my child. And I started trying to find out how to 'spring' her for a visit. You have to be cleared by this agency as well as the State. There are NO issues in this household (my older kids were still here at the time) so that was no problem. But the State is notorious for their treatment and bureaucracy in child welfare. Now this all started end of September. I called everyone, filled out all kinds of paper work, got BCIs for everyone in house, you name it. At first, we aimed for Columbus day (early October) then it was Thanksgiving, nope. Finally the principal called them and said 'I'd let her raise my own kids' and the bishop (who was at my church one week) offered to call. But she finally came over for the first time at Christmas. I don't think she said anything. She ran upstairs and hid when my oldest came by with her (then scary) boyfriend. But after that, she got 'passes' to get out all the time and literally lived here. The first time I picked her up, the manager of the group home told me she didn't belong there, and also showed me a photo of her step mom and said if I saw this woman, I was to get the child away and call the police because there was a kidnapping threat (since have found out step mom is bat-shit crazy).


On New Years' Day, I took her to watch them go swimming in the ocean and it was the coldest it had ever been, well below zero, she had thought I was going to make her go in the water. I would take her to the market and she'd be fascinated by all the kinds of foods she didn't know. I tried to take her to fun stuff and keep her mind off the on going issues with the State and therapy sessions for sexual abuse (the did not happen from what she says). I also told her and the State if they were going to put her into foster care, she could come here, I'd do the classes, whatever it took, for her to live here.

By mid January, there were rumours she was being moved. I spoke several times with the house manager, who said she'd make sure they spoke to me before they moved her. One weekend, she was supposed to come stay here (she was usually here 2-3 nights per week and every weekend at this point) and she was told she was going to visit a foster family who lived at the other end of the state (45 minutes away) I called the State who asked who was I (even though they cleared me). After a week of nonsense, I finally talked to a supervisor who told me (this was now the DAY they were moving her) that I should stay home all day, did I have a bedroom for her (um, yeah, she LIVES here), etc. that someone would be out to talk to me and check the house and I'd have her that weekend. I sat home all day, nobody came. I called the supervisor back around 3 and he told me they'd decided to go with the social worker's (who was eventually fired for lying among other things, not just with this kiddo) recommendation and send her to the new home. Found out recently (because her case is in the process of being closed) that the social worker put in her file that she said she didn't want to live here (she says she never said that).

So she landed at this house and called me first. They took her out of a school that would have done anything for her (the school was just as upset as I was). I spoke to people I knew about this (I work with some people from the State agency, who did some poking around and got into trouble for asking, then wanted to know how I knew so much about her, gee she eats lunch with my daughter every day and she just about lives here. I've since learned it's never about the child it's all about the money. Yup, lotsa money here.

I spoke to foster mom, who seemed nice, said I could still take her on weekends, she didn't want to disrupt that. She 'bragged' about being a 'professional foster parent'. The overseeing agency (not the State, there is another agency that is involved when it's a so-called 'high end' kid) trains specially for them and she's supposedly a better placement than the run of the mill foster parents. In the meantime, I had spoken to my friend who runs the foster parent association for the state and found out because of this other agency, I'd have to go through THEIR training, not hers, if I wanted her to come live here.

I filled out their paperwork, a 35 page thing. Everything from your taxes to your friends, neighbours, etc.. And come to find out, they pay much better than the State (frankly I didn't care about the money, it wasn't about that ever). This agency pays $1800 per month!!!! I send in my paperwork and wait......and wait.....and nobody answers the phone over there.....oh we never got it....send it in again (thank goodness I kept copies) and wait....and wait.....nope never got it.....I have to send it in 3 times and finally I brought it IN PERSON. Then they tell me I have to be willing to take any child, not just this one (you know kids with big issues, like lighting fires, etc.) I say no, I have a kiddo with special needs at home, I can't take any child, they say sorry. (and come to find out, foster mom is best friends with the head of this agency, which is also why the State NEVER goes into her house, more on that in a sec).

I take her every weekend. Foster mom is acting like my best friend (and turns out stabbing me in the back all the time, totally throwing up all roadblocks with all agencies and telling me crap about child so that I will give up trying to foster her) and Foster dad, who turns out has severe dementia, is at odds with child all the time, also this household includes: another foster child the same age, her own daughter (also same age), who if I use the word 'troubled' would be an understatement here, her own son (younger) who is troubled to point of taking the heads off animals in the backyard, another daughter (older), a toddler grandchild who sleeps over every other weekend, an older brother, who has PTSD from the Vietnam War who sleeps over every month or so. And when I say this house is DIRTY, I'm talking food on the floor for months (we laughed about this last week; dried salsa on the front hall floor all 3 years she was there!!!)

After a month, the State calls me to say child is not bonding with new family and she's going to use our visits as a 'carrot' for good behaviour. I object to this but there's nothing I can do, see I'm a nobody in this whole situation. I'm just a 'visiting resource' as its called. She was butting heads with dad (who they didn't know at the time had severe dementia, we just thought he was an asshole). So it goes down to maybe 1x every month. Then foster mom asks that I send my child up there. I did. Once. The filth of the house, I have to say, there were times I'd drop foster child off (and keep in mind, that family only 1-2 times brought her here. 45 minute ride EACH way and I always had to go get her and bring her back) and I'd be almost in tears at how dirty that house was. The bathroom in the basement/lower level had so much mold on the walls you could barely see the tile. Pots and pans left on the stove for days. Crap everywhere. And she'd get on my kiddo for not having a counter sparkling clean. And she (foster mom) worked at a residential school for very very disturbed boys. Yup, and she'd say when I come home, I don't want to deal with behavioural stuff, she'd go into her room and shut the door (and kept it locked) and let her own kids run wild.  Plus the foster kids get stipends for clothing and other stuff a couple of times per year.  My kiddo says she would take them to salvation army and give them $20 to spend, the allowance is $100.

As it is, my kiddo snuck out to be with a boy who lives near me (who she met when she lived in the group home, and sleeping with, she was 16 and he was 20, and I have a HUGE problem with the ethics of this guy!), along with the other kids in the house but she got caught, she also went to a mall near them with other foster child and her friends, they handed her a bag to hold and then left the store, when she went looking for them, turns out they had $400 worth of merchandise in the bag and she got arrested for shoplifting. I'm sorry, I didn't get her for WHAT reason??? In all the years I've known her, she's always talked to me about everything. I have never caught her in a lie (and remember I have older child (once) from HELL, so I know all the tricks and stories).  She has never taken/stolen anything and never asked us or my child for anything, ever.  I don't see how you could hide behind a behaviour like that for 4 years and not let it slip.  She is very easily distracted by 'stuff'....step mom who supposedly is now dying of cancer, so broke her pastor is paying for her rent, wants to see her one more time, but also supposedly has a car and a trust fund for her, has called a couple of times, my gut instinct was NO, but then I said you can see her, at the mall, with me present.  She's not called again.  I think she's pissed at the dad for using her and is using my kiddo for revenge.  She originally was willing to go home with dad because he bought her a cellphone and a netbook computer, yet it threatens to take them away and break them at every turn that does not go his way.

It was horrible for my kiddo and for me to watch. I learned the State did not care about the kids at all. Social workers would come and go, not one EVER went into her house, EVER. She used to brag about it. They'd call, she'd say she was busy, she knew they were overworked. They wouldn't call again for months. If they had seen that house, they wouldn't let any child stay there. One time they were going to the beach for the week and didn't have room for her, so asked if I'd take her. I went to go pick her up a day after they'd left. Empty spaghetti pots on the stove, not a SPECK of food in any closet (she was eating ice cream because that's all they'd left in the house). The house looked like a bomb went off in it. And they were to be gone a full week and left it like that.

They leave her there for almost 3 years. Last year foster dad finally got diagnosed. He's been kicked out of 3 nursing homes. Her own dad had no contact with her for a couple of years, but I think he may have an immigration issue as all of a sudden, he wanted to see her. The State said they had to do counseling together and he needed to go to parenting classes. He did for a bit but got pissed. He doesn't like authority. He doesn't like women in authority. He really doesn't like white people. He'd get pissed at the classes telling him what to do and stop going. He had some supervised visits. Then a couple of hours here and there without supervision. Last fall, foster dad (who was between nursing homes) got arrested in Target for threatening to kill people. Supposed the overseeing agency knew about his condition, I don't think the State did though and they 'suddenly' reunited her with dad. He has no job, a 1 bedroom apartment, a girlfriend, and no parenting skills at all. She was turning 18 (March) and I think they decided it was just cheaper (think $1800 per month, plus whatever overhead that agency charges!!!) to send her home.

Talk about setting up for failure. He's with the girlfriend all the time (child sleeps on the couch). Girlfriend got job in Boston, so now he goes up there 2-3 nights per week and leaves child alone. And he's still abusive. She's told her social worker time and time again about his abuse, she calls up dad and says 'are you being abusive?' and dad says 'no'.......plus she told her counselor on numerous occasions, who in turn called the State and they did nothing.

So in March, right before she'd turned 18, there was an issue with dad and she took the bus to ex foster family to stay over, foster mom brought her back in the morning after dad called (he drinks too, the times I've had to meet him in a parking lot to 'exchange' her, he's always got a big box in the car full of liquor, and he chain smokes and she has asthma, her clothing reeks!) So after she'd turned 18, she wanted to come to my child's birthday party (she lives closer, but not by much, still with traffic maybe 20 minutes away) and I said I wasn't going to go get her because we had plans that entire weekend and I could not get her home, nor could I promise my child's staff person could get her anyplace (my staff person has known her throughout the years, and she's wonderful, but this is not her responsibility at all). She said she'd take the bus to the mall could we get here there.....my staff person went and got her and brought her to the house, now she hadn't been here since I got Ozzy, so about 6 months (but she calls all the time).

We did rock and bowl for the birthday (loud DJ, lights and bowling...oh and a bar for the rest of us). I guess her dad called and she didn't hear it ring because it was ear shattering loud. So he got mad hung up on her when she did try to call him back. She said she was going to take the bus back home and it stopped in front of where we are. My kids and a bunch of their friends (the older kids) walked her over and were gone for almost an hour. The bus never came, she was afraid to call her dad so I said she could stay for the night, we'd get her downtown so she could get a bus either home or over to the ex foster family's house (and now that she's 18 and there's no $$ attached to her, foster family could care less about what happens to her. She went there for the rest of the weekend, but I could see the writing on the wall.

A couple of days later she texted me and said she wanted to leave and her social worker (she'd not been discharged from the State yet because they did not show up for court in February, she's supposed to be closed this afternoon when we go to court) told her she'd have to go to a homeless shelter if she left. I told her to get her stuff and I'd come and get her. Dad was due home at 3. This was after 2. I pulled up (pouring rain) and she threw as much as she could into my car. I mentioned her documents (she's here on a visa/greencard) she looked a bit but didn't have time to really look. Got her back here, made her call her social worker. The next day, we went to her old school (across the street from dad's) and she unenrolled herself because she IS 18 and can do that, they had copies of her documents. She re enrolled in the school here. Through my friend at foster parents, I found out that her case was not closed. I called the State who proceeded to yell at me for changing schools. I told them I was not about to drive her 1/2 an hour each way (traffic) across the street from dad and that she is 18 and can do this.  They (the State agency) told her new school no free lunches for her because she was no longer in an 'approved' placement (me).  I mean, really? Free lunch is not even their program, it's the USDA's program!

Her social worker keeps insisting she apologize to dad for lying about the abuse and go home. Now I've known her for going on 4 years, I don't see her as manipulative at all. I've also questioned her friendship with my child and the only thing I can come up with is my child never asks her the 'hard' questions. She just happy to have her here and to have a friend. She's always been nothing but kind to my child. Does her hair in the morning (now). Hangs out with her. Does her chores around the house. I've NEVER had an issue with her. I think (ex) foster family was bagging us and her so I wouldn't continue to go after her and they'd lose their $$$$. The State just can't be bothered, they never should have moved her, now she's been in 3 schools in 3 years, that's actually not legal here any more. And you see the ads all the time for foster families for teenagers and here we are, waving our hands, not in it for the $$ and totally ignored. It's not about the child.

She's settled in nicely. Got her room all set up. I told her she could stay for a year until she graduates. She goes to court today to talk to the judge (she's not happy about that at all) to have her case closed. She then gets into a transition program (that has had big budget cuts unfortunately) that will pay her $450 a month that she'll give to me for room and board and she can get food stamps. Of the $450 I'm going to put $200 per month away so that she'll have $2400 next year when she leaves, they will still pay her for a bit but they reduce the amount every month after she finishes school. They will also help her find a roommate and depending on circumstances, I actually would consider having my child move in with her, we'll see. So far there's been very little drama other than that ex boyfriend, who found out she was in town and wanted to see her, I said no and told her why and she agreed with me, and she met a kid in school who's also in State custody and in the transition program, turns out he's scary stalker creepy guy. I found out by asking around, then told her, and then she asked around when he was out of school and found out for herself, which just goes with the age she is.

She got her first job yesterday as a food runner at a local restaurant. I had said it needed to be on a bus route and it kinda is, but the busses really suck around here, it's like almost an hour for her to get maybe 5 miles away so I guess I'll be driving her as much as I can. She has goals, she wants to go to college. She had no clue on what stuff costs though, she seems to thing college is free, cars are cheap (I brought up insurance, taxes, and registration!), etc.

So we'll see how it goes, it's going on 6 weeks now and nothing major has happened. I tell her as long as she behaves herself and follows the rules, she can stay until she graduates, but if not, and I certainly don't want her to be homeless, she won't be able to live her any more.  There is no way I would put my own child at risk for anything, ever.  And I had her sitting with my oldest child (from hell) who told her yes, you will not live here any more, as she was asked to move out.....I've told her that no matter what, he's still her dad and at some point she needs to at least try to have a relationship with him. She was going to call him a couple of weeks ago and we rehearsed what to say (not to ask about her papers or her stuff and if he got abusive just say I have to go and hang up, just call and say hi) and then he called her and was okay (for him) on the phone. He then called a couple of weeks later to say he did have her papers and she'd need them for a job and wanted to see her but we hadn't gotten a date for that, she wanted to take the bus and I brought up what if he has your clothing (he claims he threw it all out, he also told the State to stop calling him and that he did not have her original documents) so at some point I'll take her over there and leave her for a couple of hours, but then she called him last night to tell him about the job and he just lectured her about how to act and didn't even mention her papers (we're hoping the copies will be good enough for the paperwork she has to fill out later this week).  He's always got to be in charge and he holds everything he can over her head.  I'm sure that my not being able to get her over there on HIS schedule is what he's holding her paperwork for.  If worse comes to worse, we can get the originals again, but it's time consuming.  She has said it took 'forever' to get her birth certificate from Africa.  She also has a passport and green card.  She does have a state ID, state insurance (because she's in custody and until she's 21 after), and a SS number.  I used to be one of the people that non citizens shouldn't get benefits, but once you see who is on the other end of this (and I'm not talking about people who sneak in, it's people who come here and work, or a child who came over legitimately), it makes you reconsider this view, a lot.

As with anything, this almost 4 years story is very much abbreviated. And I've never lost sight of the irony that she was sent to this country to have a better life.

And a quick update, we did go to court, the 'guardian' (works for the State) came over to talk to her (then us) and wasn't so keen on closing her case because she's only a jr. in HS. The social worker showed up almost an hour after she had told us to be there and they went into the courtroom (without me) but then they came out and got me.  The judge was VERY nice.  I could tell my kiddo was scared silly even though we'd rehearsed and talked about all this (yes your honour, etc) but we had never even considered they'd NOT close her case, never.......so the judge asked me to come forward and asked about her living with me, he assumed I was the foster family, I said no, I'm not, she's just my child's friend, and I've known her and she's been living with me on and off for 4 years (at which point the social worker gave me the evil eye).  He asked about money and I told him that was never our concern (SW glares at me again).  So the guardian went on about not closing her case, but SW mentioned the transition program needed the case to be closed for her to get into it.  So the judge asked the kiddo a few more questions about things like staying in school, going to college, gave her a few minute talk on education being the key to everything in life.  Then he agreed to close her case pending her entrance into the transition program (we had done that interview a few weeks ago, we had to go back there (20 minute ride, yeah I forgot about this part) and finish that after court.

So we're leaving court and SW is talking to her about her life, etc (I honestly have no use for this person) and then when we get into the lobby asks her is she's going to miss her ..... we really didn't answer that and left and when we got outside, I said, not missing that bitch and she busted out laughing...

After we did the rest of the paperwork at the foster parents place (for transition program) we came back home and did the 'no more State in her life' dance of joy....and then there was a phone message from SW asking us to call (gee this interrupted our dance!) because the closing of the case was dependent on her getting into the program and she wanted to make sure we'd gone.

a little less often

I'll admit, I really thought I'd have time each day or so to post, but sometimes life just gets in the way. Some of you that know me (really know me) know how I really try to keep my life somewhat uncomplicated (in theory anyway) which rarely works. Just when I think things are 'fine', there's just always something, and most of the time, even if it looks like it's not much, it ALWAYS ends up being more. Like a simple, $5 home repair that turns into ripping a wall down and $1000 (yes that always happens to me!!!)..... When I do get a good chunk of time, I really want to write the story of a young lady that is my child's (well she's 18 now, so not really a child!) friend, who is now living with us. It's a long story, it's over the course of almost 5 years now since she became involved with us, though she's never officially lived here before (she's stayed many a night/week, but this time is long term). It's really a story that had good intentions as she's from another country and came here for a better life and so far that has not materialized, but I need a couple of hours to really write it (or at least a good hour to write each part of it) so not for today. Today my 13 year old woofie (Shelby) gets groomed, she's old, she's not been feeling well, but she has perked up the past week, so I'm glad for that. My youngest new Ozzy the Border Collie with ADHD who always needs a job/something to do had gotten her more active, but though she wishes she was as active as he is (and she still can beat him out to a tossed frisbee), she's usually limping and tireder after it's all over with. To not include her in such 'fun' doggie activities, even walks, hurts her little doggie feelings, but I don't want to push her into permanent disability. She's been to the vet in the last month for her annual check up and all was well. The egg size lump on her side is not anything other than fatty tissue (he did a quickie needle biopsy when he felt it, I love my vet, over 30 years with him) and her 'old doggie' bloodwork was also fine. I did have a script for doggie arthritis meds, but it's harsh on her stomach, which is iffy on a good day (and always has been, that's nothing new, I've never seen a dog heave so much in my life!) so I know it works day to day and not a build up kinda thing and only give it (with 1/2 a pepcid AC as directed! and food) when I see her dragging around the house. So that's all for today, when I get a good chunk of time, I'll start on my 4th 'child's' story.

game on

Okay, I'll admit it, I like playing some of the games on facebook and online. I'm not crazy addicted where I have to look at them every hour, but I spend some time in the morning early and then again at night (and I'm not fond of the whole farm movement, I have real plants here that need tending, I only play to help others who help me in other games).

I've never considered myself a 'gamer' in years past. There have been games I've liked (Tempest comes to mind, as does the original Legend of Zelda, and 7th Guest, a computer game way ahead of it's time with its graphics), but nothing very addictive, even in the days when Mario ruled the game console.

I love Zuma Blitz. It's mindless, matching 3 of a kind and competing with friends for the highest score. Level 80 is as high as you can get, so PopCap started with letting you reset and start again, I'm over 1/2 way through my 4th time. I play when I'm in the midst of coding because it used to help stop my brain from coding all night while I sleep. Actually the coding overnight is a good skill to have. When I got my BS in computer science, I found that when I couldn't get a program to work, if I went to bed without 'clearing it out of my mind', my brain would work on it all night and I'd usually wake up with a solution. That doesn't make for a good night's sleep though. I would knit or something 'mindless' to clear it out.

If I play Zuma Blitz too late though or right before I go to bed, I find my brain decides to play that all night.....so that's not usually a late night thing.

A new Zynga game (and if you play anything online, Zynga is the king of gaming) is Hidden Chronicles. It is a mansion with a searchable scenes part. So you have this home and you can 'buy' stuff for your estate, which in turn gives you points that unlock other scenes and more property. It is the fastest growing game I've seen. I have probably 40 friends that play steadily, pretty much unheard of. The scenes have a varying set of items you have to search for and you get points and 'cash' for finding them without errors and quickly. I've always liked the 'see what's different' games and searching in general. I used to love the find items last page in Highlights magazine they used to have in the doctor's office. Anyway, the graphics are great and it doesn't crash the shockwave/flash player as often as a lot of the other games seem to. It's low maintenance (your crops don't rot, there's nothing to 'feed') so that has been my 'last stop' before bedtime lately.

I also play Frontierville/Pioneer Trail, though I'm getting about done with that. I've been playing that since they started. It's glitchy, it crashes, it forgets stuff, but I have to say Zynga's customer support is great. You email them, they give you 'stuff' and more. But lately they've been more apt to give you things than fix the overall programming issues. Lately it has become more of a 'chore' than fun. The missions are very redundant and a lot of my friends have stopped playing. You have to beg (every 12 hours) for stuff, even then, you can only get 3 of whatever you need (sometimes 50-60!) at that. It's also the only game where I have 'friends' I don't know. You need so many to keep up, and they have to be dedicated, daily players. Right now, a lot of them have stopped playing because it's getting ridiculous and there is a huge online movement to get Zynga to rethink the way the game is played. We'll see, I play that only here and there now, mainly just to help out others. They even opened a 'new' area but the work involved to play was just overwhelming and not enough 'resources' provided by Zynga to make it fun.

I like the new Solitaire Blitz. You have a minute (or more if you pay with your winnings) to go through the deck and unload all your cards into 3 piles. Also mindless (well you have to pay a bit attention to get the matches and runs, but mindless)

I did the Farmville and My Farm when I first got online. My Farm was kinda fun, I had a lot of stuff, I liked the cow tipping aspect, but honestly I haven't looked at it in years. Farmville I only play every week or so, and just to the requests I get for stuff.

Words with Friends (aka Scrabble) is available online and on my iPad/iPhone. I made a rule that I will only play when I'm on my exercise bike and I don't get to that every day (I walk a lot when it's nice out) so I amended that rule as I was losing games for not playing for a few days. I play with a lot of my friends. You can also only have 30 games going at once, and though that may sound like a lot, when you're the 'grammar police' as I am at work, you can breeze though them. And no, I don't cheat. I know a number of people that have admitted to using programs that play for them or give them words. I mean what's the point then? I sometimes do just throw letters at the board and hope they make a word and I am always surprised when they do. I'm also surprised at how the differing 'scrabble' type games use different dictionaries and what passes in one game and not in another.

The mahjong matching games were nice, but now they are fraught with ads that stop you every 2-3 games and make you watch something you don't want to for :30. Same with playing Words with Friends online. I'm sure these companies need to make some money somehow. Words with Friends, I paid for the app on my phone just to get rid of the ads. I won't pay online though. I do throw some $ (like $25 every 3-4 months) at Frontierville from time to time. I keep hoping they'll get their servers to stop being ridiculous.

Bejeweled Blitz is also a mindless matching game, same thing as Zuma but it's more like a Tetris type in a grid.

Other games gone by the wayside, Mafia Wars. One of the first online/Facebook games. It really got boring after awhile. At first, I was just getting killed off all the time and all my stuff ripped off, but then it was just a clicking thing and different cities/collections, but the same thing. Then they tried a more interactive (looked like the Sims) and I more didn't understand the overall missions. Pirates. I did like Pirates, though similar to Mafia Wars, it had a bit more to it. Zynga discontinued it. The Farm games, both of them, required way too much time and dedication to keep going. I guess they expect you to either play every hour or fork over some real $$ to buy things like unwither for your crops. Don't like them enough to do that.

Angry Birds has just 'debuted' on Facebook. I have it on my phone and all Angry Birds does is makes me angry. It's okay to play if there is nothing else to do, but I personally find it very frustrating. I guess it's funny the first few times the 'pigs' laugh/grunt at you, but after that, yes you just want to slap them upside the head. I play online here and there (like maybe 1x every 2-3 weeks if I'm bored) only because it's larger than trying to play on a little phone screen.

there's nothing better than a great dog

Yes there is truly nothing better than a good dog....dogs are not cats, they hang on your every word, they follow you around looking for guidance, they view you as their queen. I've had some great dogs in my years, not as many dogs as cats because they are definitely higher maintenance (you can't just leave them alone for hours on end).

The first dog I considered my own and not a family pet was Anthony. I got him for my 16th birthday from my then boyfriend. A friend of ours had 3-4 mini adult poodles at his house and there were 2 litters of maybe 6-8 puppies within a week. I wasn't fond of poodles and if I was going to get one, I wanted a black one, but I went over to my friend Steve's house and there were these 10 or so puppies all jumping up in the air at him. It was a pretty funny scene,and Steve was a big guy (he passed away a year or so ago to kidney cancer). All the black ones were spoken for but there was this all dark brown one and I took him. I think my boyfriend paid $10 for him because of the bill for having his tail docked. Well I didn't know a lot about dogs, we'd always had one but I'd never had to bother with it. We had a fenced in yard and would just let them out. First thing, he needed a name. He would just follow me around with no leash on (he was maybe 8 weeks old when I got him) and we had this friend who we would yell 'Anthony' when he drove by in his souped up car (his name was not Anthony and his car sounded like a dishwasher). My little puppy looked up at me, so that is how he got his name. He went everywhere with me and he slept on my bed, though he would get off some time during the night, but was always back by the time I woke up in the morning. He knew a lot of tricks. He would whack at you if you put his bowl on your head and say 'where's my hat'...he knew how to sneeze, he loved his hartz flexi crockie best.

I went off to college and though initially I did take him with me, it wasn't fair to him to be in a dorm room all day (trust me, nobody knew he was there, it just wasn't fair to him) so he went back home. Freshman year my dad died suddenly and I had gotten home and was upset, I remember sitting on the stairs inside and crying and Anthony proceeded to bring me, one by one, every last one of his toys, and finally just putting his chin on me and looking up at me. I swear he cried as well.

I moved off campus after that and he came with me. He was alone a lot and though I think I could leave him for DAYS and he'd never do anything in the house (I never did that, but there were times I'd be gone for hours and he'd wait til I got home). I decided to get him a 'friend'. I was down at a pound in South County someplace and there was this tiny puppy. I brought her home and named her Gretchun, no idea why, I think she just looked like a Gretchun. As smart as Anthony was, so was she, but she didn't use it for good, only evil. Unlike Anthony, she would pee on the floor at the drop of a hat. She learned to move the chair across the floor so she could open the cupboards and steal all the food. She once ate a box of Good and Plenty, then hurled them all over the pillows on the bed. She once ate an entire Gingerbread house and ended up spending Thanksgiving at my vet's house. She also auditioned for the David Letterman show's stupid pet tricks because she could peel a banana and then eat it (she freaked at doing it in front of an audience).

One day Anthony didn't seem to feel very well and it turned out he had kidney failure. There wasn't anything you could do. You can't make a dog drink more water so he was relegated to special food and an under the skin infusion of lactated ringers solution, 1x per day and towards the end 2x. He lived a great life for another 4 years and died when he was 16.

Gretchun, not being a great dog, needed a friend. I got Muff'n about then. She was of mixed breed (Gretchun was Chihuahua and terrier, a white long haired, didn't look like a chihuahua) terrier mix. Muff was a great dog as well, though not as bright as some other dogs I've had. She was great with the kids, larger than Ant or Gretch (both well under 10 pounds). Gretchun went into a seizure one day, I think she was around 12 and died from that.

Muff was an only dog for a long time (not counting the cat population in this story). One day, Sophie came to stay. Sophie was as dumb as a box o' rocks. She was a red shepherd mix. She would retrieve the ball until the cows came home and my kids would throw it for hours. One day when Bec was maybe 2, she was waving the ball in the air and Sophie jumped up to get it, knocked Bec down and as she stepped over her to get the ball, she ripped her face with her nails...over 100 stitches later, I couldn't look at Bec and Sophie, she's the only animal I've ever given back to the pound, but with the understanding they find her a home and not euthanize her. Though not truly her fault, she needed to be a home with older kids in it.

Muff was like having furniture for a pet. Not a mean bone in her body, but not really an active family member. She died at the old age of 16.

I waited a few weeks, but it was summer and summer is always a good time to get a puppy (I'm home a lot in the summer) so I started scouting the pounds, didn't want to drag the kids around to them and things had changed, though the internet wasn't really up and running as an adoption place, pounds were getting more rigid with just who they would give an animal to. I'd go to one place and fill out this huge form and wait, I'm not good at waiting. Finally I saw this 6 month old puppy and brought the kids to see her. She had been thrown out of a car in front of the pound. Stupid people left her tags on and got charged with it. Took her home (after she drooled, hyperventilated and heaved in the car the whole way). She already had a name, Shelby, and she seemed to know it, so the name stayed. That was almost 13 years ago now.


Shelby is a good dog, she also does not have a mean bone in her body (to be honest, Muff'n only tolerated the kids, especially as she got older). It took me over a year to be able to get her into a car. She couldn't even walk by it without heaving. One day I was showing her photo to a friend and she asked if her name was Shelby. I said yes, she then asked her birthdate, which I knew because I had contacted the vet where her tags were from (to find out shots, etc. and had asked about her birthday). Turns out my friend had taken her brother and sister from another rescue. There had been 3 puppies but she took 2 (and felt badly about leaving the 3rd one but 2 was enough).

She does some cool tricks. She sneezes on command, actually all my dogs have done that. My mom taught Anthony. Gretchun (nicknamed the 'weasal' btw) learned that if Anthony sneezed he got a biscuit so she learned. Muff'n learned. Shelby not only does that, but because she is a shepherd mix, they 'snap' their jaws when they get excited, we called that 'crocking' and she does that on command. She also falls to the floor if you yell bang at her (the kids taught her that).

She's 13 next week and really though groan-y and a little limpy, does really well. She can keep up with Ozzy, in fact, she can outrun him to the frisbee (though not this week, she hurt her 'shoulder' last week and has to take it easy for a bit). I got Ozzy because I know 13 is old for a dog, especially a large dog like Shelby (60# of large dog) but she's been blessed with decent health and gets her vet visit tomorrow (though she was there last week for her injury).

cats cats cats

I feel a bit neglectful that I am lumping all the other cats into just one post. They all were good (with the exception of the current evil Luna) in their own right and had their own stories, but none were as involved (or beloved) as Rex. Usually there were always 2, if not 3 cats here at one time so they all overlap their residence.

Starting at the beginning is easiest.....first cat I had was X-it. As I said previously, I had hit a cat on a country road and couldn't find it, so me being me, went to the pound and adopted him. I don't even remember what pound or why because it was so long ago. He was a black cat. Now that I'm involved with a rescue organization, I have learned that a lot of people won't even look at a black cat due to superstition. A cat is a cat, if they have a good personality (and who can tell when they're a kitten anyway? Luna is proof of that!) then you're all set no matter what they look like. I'd like to state though there are some cats that I personally do not find cute, those ones with the smooshed faces (and the same thing goes for dogs with me) or anything purebred, which I would never pay $$ for anyway, though Maine Coons are cute.
Anyway, it was close to 30 years ago, but he used to kinda say his name, he was this weird meow that sounded almost dolphinesque. So you'd say 'X-it' and he'd say urk urk (doesn't translate well to print). I moved a few times with him and he was in the current home I have. He died at the age of 16. He had just gone missing for a couple of days (he was one of the outdoor cats, back before there were the mean things in the wood there are today), and he came back and just wasn't the same. He was dirty and disoriented. The vet thought maybe he had a stroke, and euthanized him.

Next was 'stache. She was a petite, long haired, tuxedo girl with (guess what!) a mustache. She was a priss to say the least, but try as she might, she had no meow, she would open her mouth and nothing would come out. She was killed in my last house when a huge dog jumped my 4' fence (yes in MY fenced in yard) in front of me.

Moola was found at the ATM machine vestibule in the trash can. I heard this squeaking and thought it was a fan, but then I heard rustling and looked inside and there was this teeny tiny little tortoise kitty. She was probably only 5-6 weeks old. Moo was the 'adventure' cat. Once she was missing and turns out she'd climbed into a drawer and was behind it. She also climbed 8' up into a soffit above the cabinets once. Moo's tail got run over by a car as she ran across the street (and no the person did not stop though I was outside). It had to be amputated and she did fine for awhile, but then nerve damage took over after a couple of years and she became incontinent and was having issues walking. so she ended up euthanized. She was 10.

In the meantime, after 'stache, we got Tigg'r, a dilute tortie. and only had her a short time, we found her dead in the yard, not sure if she was poisoned or hit (she didn't look hit).

And then there was Elvis. He was right up there with Rex as far as cats behaving like a dog. He just showed up one day and moved in. He was very vocal. I was at the point of trying to keep cats in (and you know how that goes sometimes, there are just some cats you cannot keep in, especially older ones). He was maybe 4-5 when he showed up. He used to 'talk' to you the whole time you'd be getting groceries out of the car, he was a great cat, had him a couple of years. I also found him on the front yard one day, not sure what happened to him either, no visible injuries.

Bailey came from the pound as a baby. She was a petite, dilute long haired tortie. Also a priss. She would go out only to pee though, she didn't go out otherwise and she NEVER left the deck except to go pee. She used to sleep in the strangest places. I have a photo of her sleeping in the manger at Christmas one year. She was 15 and just disappeared, though my son heard 'noises' late that night, we never found any trace of her.




Moe was my baby. Got him as a kitten at the pound. A big long haired tuxedo boy. If there was a newspaper or magazine being read, Moe was on top of it. He made it impossible to do anything because he'd just lay on it (he was 15#). He was big snuggler. Like all the cats, he came when he was called. He was also totally spooked by anything. Very skittish. He went out only to pee as well. I didn't like him out and he didn't like being out. He usually ran out with the dog after dinner and came back after the dog went out again at night. He never stayed out all night and given at this point I had seen coyotes and fisher cats, I didn't want anyone out. Plus the cat next door had been killed by a raccoon. Moe was about 10 and he ran by me one night as I let the dog out late. I tried waiting up for him but he didn't come back. The next day, while cutting the grass, his 'parts' were found all over my yard. I was heartbroken. He was soooo skittish I can only imagine that it had to have been more than one attacker or he would have just run away. I am totally responsible for his death as I didn't keep him in (though I tried).

The kids brought Pharoah home one day. He was hanging around the bus stop for a couple of days and then followed them home (like a 1/2 a mile followed them home). He was crazy. You'd come home and find the birdcage on the floor, the curtains down, etc. Try as we might (at this point, nobody was going to go out), couldn't keep him in. He'd pee on everything (well he still does, even though he's neutered), he hates everyone except my son (who has now moved out) and now only tolerates us, but he's your best friend when he's outside. I consider him to be a bit more 'street smart' than the other cats. He hangs out on the roof of the house most of the time. He used to bang on the kids' windows to come in (and we've discouraged that because he was ruining the screens, but there is one window he's allowed to bang on now). He's 9 now and he's a blue Abyssinian. He would hang off the ceiling fan if he thought he could get up there. His nickname is 'wheee' because he was always flying around the house. A funny story about him. I was down the street at a gardening place and there was a cat sleeping there that looked exactly like him. After talking to the owner, he was found wandering about the same time Pharoah was found, so I'm pretty sure it's his brother. Pharoah though street smart is also as dumb as a box o' rocks. When the dog gets shaved every year, Pharoah runs up the stairs and hisses and growls at him for days, took me a while to figure out he thinks it's a new dog.....
And yes, he still hates everyone, especially that new stupid puppy.

After Moe passed away (and Rex was still here, I won't do his story because he has his own page on the blog, and Pharoah is here) I got (bella) Luna. I saw her on Petfinders (remember I do the website for a rescue organization).

She was listed as a 6 week old bengal/savannah and as you can see from her photo, she was totally adorable. What I didn't know (and now I know better) is that you don't get to 'pick'. They brought her to my house and she immediately laid on her back in my lap and went to sleep. Not that she didn't win me over with THAT behaviour, but I didn't get to see other kittens. Well, she was fine for awhile, but she hates everyone. Especially the vet. She weighs 5" soaking wet, yet it takes 3 people with gloves to hold her down at the vet. Now she is terrified to go and it's become this double edged sword. They have to hold her down (cuz she bites and hisses and scratches) and they hurt her when they hold her down, not on purpose but you really have to hold her, therefore, she bites and scratches more. She's fine with me 90% of the time. She sleeps on my head at night, she loves the smell of 'wet people' and rolls all over the bath towels. But she'll rip your face off if you look at her wrong. I'm not sure how she feels about the puppy. Being a Border Collie, he will chase her. But I've seen her run on purpose and let him follow her and her roll on her back (okay maybe only a minute, but still...). I've also seen her hide behind something and either pounce or whack at him as he goes by, usually scaring him and resulting in a bark a thon. She also had lupus when she was little (well she's only 3 now) and she is also diagnosed with stress (???) induced cystitis. She's on 1/4 amitriptyline every other day for it. Learning from Rex, she has the water fountain, no prescription food, but I did get her on soulistic, which is a human grade cat food and I feed grain free to all 3 of them. It's under control for now.
She, believe it or not, lets me give her her medicine. I used to wrestle her down and use either butter or whipped cream (treats for her, she loves them) to get it down, but I found that if I'm sitting on my computer and she's in my lap relaxing (seems to be her favourite place) I can get it into her with no wrestling (most of the time). It's also encased in capsules that I had to get at the compounding pharmacy. Seems amitriptyline must taste horrible, she drools terribly if she gets a taste of it, which is why you can't 'hide' it in anything. Truly the worst cat I've ever owned, but she's cute.

The most recent edition is Mugsy. After Rex passed away, we were left with Pharoah who hates everyone and the evil Luna (call my vet, they'll agree!). So though we knew we'd never replace Rex, I started kinda looking. Having your vet's staff emailing you photos of homeless cats doesn't help. SO I saw this cat, Bubbles, on a website and called, filled out the applications and headed down there. Well the staff felt (and this is the rescue I work for now) another cat, Muggles, was a better fit in the household. He climbed up into my lap and went to sleep (after Luna, I wasn't really buying this act). They said he was about 2, he'd been a stray and he was a good boy.
He came home that day and he had big shoes to fill. The week after he came, the great flood of 2010 hit and my basement filled with water, and then the repairs, etc.

All the cat stuff was down stairs, so it all moved up to the 2nd floor and the door had to be kept shut because of workmen going in and out and windows open airing out, etc. The joke was that Mugsy (renamed Mug O' Guinness, with his birthday being St. Patrick's Day, he'll be 4 this week) was probably wishing he'd stayed at the pound. And he HATED the dog (didn't have the puppy yet) I mean hated. And the dog does NOT CARE. The dog would be laying down and Mugsy would walk by, the dog would just shift her eyes over, not even moving any other part of her body just to see what was walking by and swat, growl, hiss. This went on for over a year, they're not the best of friends now, but it's stopped. Took him a year though. Funny thing was when I brought Ozzy home, Mugsy was the first one to greet him!

some of the people I know

I had to do a presentation when I was in grad school on music, and I started thinking about all the bands I'd seen over the years (and continue to see) and then all the famous people that I've met, so I thought I'd write a bit about that.
I think the first concert I even went to without the family (although we used to go to the 'tent' and I saw Herb Alpert and some other shows there) was Grand Funk Railroad at the Civic Center. I went with my friend (we didn't drive yet so we needed a ride).

I've always loved live music, which is why I still probably spend more time than I should these days in clubs like the Met. I have to say, I LOVE THE MET. It's like the old Lupo's...it's not huge, I know everyone in there, sound system is good, only downside is the neighbourhood is a little sketchy so you need to always go early so you can park in front or in the lot across the street. I got there late once and was sent to a back lot that was soooo scary I drove around until something in front opened up.

Anyway, the list of bands/musicians I've seen is very long and there may be one or two I've forgotten, some are just very famous, but local bands, I'll start with the list, in no particular order.

Grand Funk Railroad - several times, Alice Cooper - several times, David Bowie - several times, George Harrison, Rubber Rodeo, Route 44, Mark Knoffler, Dire Straits, The Monkees - several times, Mink DeVille, Queen, The Police (very early in their career), Herman's Hermits, Iggy Pop, The Grassroots, Yes - several times, Steppenwolf, Smithereens, Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers, NRBQ, Deep Purple, The Lyres, R.E.M. (one time live at a David Letterman taping), J. Geils Band, Romantics, Mission of Burma, The Cure, The Cult, Beaver Brown/JohnCafferty (probably weekly when I was in college, but have seen him 2x in the last month now), Ted Leo - way way many times, The Kinks, Blue Oyster Cult, Fabulous Thunderbirds, Lou Miami, The Young Adults - a ridiculous amount of times, The Schemers/Raindogs, many times, Spin Doctors, The Neighborhoods - regularly, Adam Ant, Doobie Brothers, Seals and Croft, Nilsson, Graham Parker, The Go Gos, Herman Brood, Flash and the Pan, Chicago, Three Dog Night, David Johansen/NY Dolls - used to pretty much follow him around, Rash of Stabbings, Patti Smith, Television, B52s, Devo, Talking Heads, Roomful of Blues (every Sunday night in college), Elvis Costello, INXS, Interview, Aztec Two Step, Ultravox, Nick Lowe, The Dead Kennedys, The Dead Boys - once was enough, Nick Lowe, Dave Edmunds (the only band I ever heard Randy Hein ask to turn it down!), The Ramones, Aerosmith - a few times, Love of Diagrams, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Kristeen Young, Robert Cray, Bo Diddley, KC and the Sunshine Band, The Cars - before they were famous (for a dollar!), Manhattan Transfer, Leon Redbone, Tom Waits, Alan Parsons Project, ELO, The Mundanes, HSR, Warren Zevon, The Tubes, The Cowsills, James Taylor, Johnny Cougar and the Zones (before he was better known as Mellencamp, and he sucked!), Kenny Wayne Shepherd, Sly and the Family Stone - he was 3 hours late for the concert, came on stage, did one song and walked off, Susan Tedeschi, Jim Carroll, Fleetwood Mac (before Buckingham/Nicks), Tommy Tutone, and I had tickets to see T Rex but he died before he got here.

There are only a few I wish I'd seen. I would have liked to see in their heyday Fleetwood Mac and the Beach Boys, but not now. I still would LOVE to see the Stones. The thought of going to a humongous arena to see a band does not thrill me though.

The music people I actually know, who are famous probably only in RI (and at that, maybe if you're a music person you'd know them) has come about more from doing all the filming I do at the Met and being involved with people like Bruce McCrae, aka Rudy Cheeks, once a local radio personality and a former (well and current) lead singer for the Young Adults, RI's premiere party band in the late 70s and Lupo's house band, who we saw (and continue see) every chance we get...they broke up a long time ago but played a 3 night stand as a reunion tour last May (and I was involved in the video, which unfortunately, will never see the light of day because they didn't like the way THEY sounded) and will be playing again on the 25th in the Tribute to Thom (Enright) who just passed away and has been in just about every freakin' band IN Rhode Island.

I knew John Cafferty in High School (as well as his band) and saw him last week and will on the 25th, Thom Enright was in his band as well.

Marty Ballou, look him up, one of the nicest guys you'd ever want to meet, been in tons of bands, very well respected musicians and one of my truly favourite people on the planet, he did a few dates with J. Geils recently, but plays the Met (and with the Young Adults) every chance he gets.



Dennis McCarthy, also a long time well known local guy, I harassed him into singing yesterday at the Jam.



Ted Leo, also one of the nicest guys you ever want to know, he married a girl from RI and used to play around here all the time, I got to know him from filming and though he's now in NYC (his wife got a job there) he still keeps his house here. The hardest working man in alternative rock.







When you get into not really celebrities so to speak (local or not), but people famous in their own realm of things, the most famous person I really know is Dr. Francis Collins. I met him through a genetic conference I go to from time to time, 15 years ago, his wife headed it. He would sit on the floor and play folk songs on Friday nights and do a sing a long. But I had known him before that. See when Bec was diagnosed, there was (and continues to be) no test. I saw this nice man on TV talking about genetic testing, so I looked him up and emailed him about the gene for what she had. He graciously answered me back. I had no idea who he was other than some 'nice man on the tv'. When I brought his email up to her Boston doc, he almost fell of his chair, he said, 'you wrote to the big guy!'. Dr. Collins is one of the people that decoded the human genome. He used to head the Human Genome Project at the National Institutes of Health, now he just runs the NIH. And I know him. He even sent me an autographed copy of the decoded genome because I told him someday he was going to win the Nobel prize and I wanted to prove that I really did know him.



At the NIH, there's the Office of Rare Diseases and that is headed by Steve Groft, who I also know. These people are proof that your tax dollars really work.

Bec went down there a couple of years ago because they are now looking for the gene for what she has, andwe got our genomes sequenced, as in the 5th and 6th people in the WORLD to have it done. Dr. Collins had introduced me to 'this guy Les', at the genetics conference one year, who turns out to be Dr. Les Biesecker, who runs the Biesecker Lab at the NIH!










Michael Waltrip, NASCAR driver. He took Bec right into his hauler and put her up on his knee and posed for photos and signed everything we gave him, on several occasions. Very nice and patient guy.








Sgt. Slaughter. Yup, I used to make his pants when he was the GI Joe action figure for Hasbro. Biggest guy I've ever seen in my life. Legs and neck like tree trunks. Well over 6'6" tall. And soft spoken, polite, with a little bitty wife.

Dr. John Opitz and Dr. Victor Dubowitz. Look them up. Bec saw them in Utah in the midst of our diagnosis tour. Dr. Opitz has syndromes named after him and was the editor of many research papers. Dr. Dubowitz also has a syndrome named for him and lives in Great Britain.



And then there's just the list of 'famous' people that I've met. I'm not going to go into every politician; it's so small here that my art work used to hang in my Senator's office (and now his son is the Governor). I used to work in the Mayor's office, who then became the Governor (I didn't work for him at that point). Our current Mayor goes to my church, so it's not like other states. I remember at one of the genetic conferences talking to someone from Texas who was all excited to meet their congressman. Ours all walk in every parade they can and we've probably shaken hands with them a few times. So who I've at least shaken hands with, if not gotten an autograph.

Davy Jones, who just passed away. I met him several times over the years, he was a very gracious soul. Peter Tork, also very gracious. Peter Max (the artist), I purchased one of his paintings and I got a photo with him, my painting is dedicated to me and drawn on/signed/says so on the back of it (so don't come here to steal it!) My mom has a letter written to her and signed (she died years ago) by Richard Nixon. I met when I was 6 skating in Rockerfeller Center Richard Chamberlain. I had a postcard signed by him (I had no idea who he was) but no idea where that would be. I have the genome signed by Francis Collins. I have some stuff signed by Jeff Gordon (though I've never met him). I also have a few NASCAR programs signed by many of the drivers. Jeff Burton, Ken Schrader, Kenny Wallace, too many to list here.

So that's it for now, if I think of more, I'll just edit.