I found Jesus...

Jesus Graffiti
Originally uploaded by DMStarr.

Sometimes in life, it's the small things that matter the most.

And sometimes, when God speaks to us, he leaves behind little clues, solutions to things that once seemed impossible to solve, tools to uncover answers to questions we thought were indecipherable.

Little clues
scattered breadcrumbs
along our path
as we find our way back home.

And sometimes,
back home is where
the answers

always were...


Thank you DMStarr for this beautiful image...

(can you find the word Jesus in the photograph)

Feel the coincidence and do it anyway...

Strange weekend.

Friday was just too bizarre.

I asked the universe for some answers, and I got hit in the head with one of those cartoon anvils - you know, the standard "Acme" type El coyote in the Bugs Bunny Cartoons - flying from the sky, crushing him into an accordion...

Well, after that afternoon, I took some anti-biotics to clear up some nasty infection, but luck would have it, these monster pills made me so sick, I have been in bed for the past 3 days.

I was supposed to go to a party last night. E went because he was part of the band, but I stayed behind, huddled under the covers, in front of the tube, cats pretending they were bookends on either side of my body. I slept on and off, feeling like a heap of wet rags, I went to bed early.
Midnight on a Saturday night is really early for me.

I woke up, stumbled around the house, heard E on the phone and made my way into the living room to find my cell phone. Trying to get my balance and shield my eyes from the afternoon sunlight, I felt my way into the shade towards the couch. Before I managed to sit down, I saw a book lying there.

It was a book that I lent to someone two years ago, a book that I have been waiting to get back for the longest time.

"Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway"

I had asked myself Monday night if I had the strength and conviction to stick to the course that my life is about to take - if I want it. If I can handle it. I took some quite time inbetween naps to roll it around in my mind.

And there is was - the answer. Staring me in the face was another breadcrumb on the way to my ultime goal that I have been secretly holding on to for so long - getting back into filmmaking.

feel the fear and do it anyway

I guess that strange coincidence answered my question.


***

off to sleep.
2mrw is a big day.
I will transcribe my Friday night dictation so I can post it here - make it real, readable.

Do it anyway...

Holy fire within you...

I just love it when coincidences, like the ones that happened to me today pop into my life.
I am so wired and exhausted that I can't even begin to get into it. I really want to - believe me, this is one of those quintessential 'life as a sienfeld episode' moments.

It really was...


and it all started this morning when I decided to stuff into my already overstuffed purse this book. I didn't believe it when I read it. Threw out a question to the universe - and low and behold, that boomerang smacked me up the side of the head, it nearly knocked me unconscious.

I have to share with you something taken from the first chapter of the book.

Dr. Wayne quotes an ancient Hasidic saying:


"when you walk across the fields with your mind pure and holy, then from all the stones, and all the growing things, and all animals, the sparks of their soul come out and cling to you, and then they are purified and become a holy fire in you."


and that fire was stoked today

and as of now, it burns brightly.

Forgot about this chapter

I have been so over my head with all kinds of things to do, I almost forgot this huge chunk of the story (heh. No pun intended.)

So here it is - the crater in her back. It's pretty shocking and didn't post the high resolution yet, but my mom is actually not freaked out by it, thinks it's quite interesting and considers it a battle scar that she wears proudly...

but as always, life tends to throw you a curve ball when you least expect it.

After seeing one oncologist today, he gave us some not so great news\prognosis. This is an excerpt from an email my mom wrote to her main surgeon explaining what happened and the kind of information she was given.

Unfortunately, doctor x did not have any alternatives for me. He did give me an option – interferon for one month through iv, followed by chemo 3 times/week for one full year, during which I would not be able to work. And to top things off, this treatment plan is designed for persons whose melanoma has spread to the lymph nodes. It does not improve survival chances for people like me whose melanoma has NOT spread to the lymph nodes. So, really there is not much point in going through the treatment.

We saw Doctor X today. He does not offer interferon for only one month. From what you had said, and what I had read, I believed that one month of interferon was definitely an option. But he says it is not. He did not seem very anxious to discuss any other treatment options. After waiting for 2 hours, my daughter and I were quite disappointed, because when I asked for his recommendation, he shrugged his shoulders. As you can imagine, after getting good news that the cancer had not spread, it seems that if it had in fact spread, I would have options. Now it seems that I do not.

And to top it all off, "the chance of increasing her chances of "survival" after a year of a chemo, which may not even be good for her, was only about 10%. So basically, regardless if she gets it or not, she's not in a very good situation, and it seems with this doctor, there is no middle ground.

Black or white.

I told her that it's in her best interest to get a 2nd opinion - "we do research, ask opinions, go from one dealer to another when we are buying a car to make sure we get the best deal, why can't you apply this to your health and prognosis? It is your body and your health! Shop around for the best and most feasable option for you!"

We are both in a mild state of shock right now, but the despair has turned into anger and frustration, which I beleive can be more productive in helping us find a solution and stir up the fighting spirit we need to fight this.

more updates soon.

(Feb 23rd)

Latest update - the surgeon who removed the tumor said that he would put us in touch with another surgeon at another hospital. If worse comes to worst, he will take her on himself. This guy is really gold.

The wound is about 8-% healed. I have to take another photo because it's just so freaky how the body regenerates itself.

what a ride...

crop circles

crop circles
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty.

So here it is - the massive battle wound. She is being a real trooper. Even a day after the surgery, we were able to joke about it and it's potential uses - change purse, passport holder, spare key pouch, drink holder....

Yea, we're a pretty twisted family, but if you can't laugh about this kind of stuff...

Your greatest creation is the life you lead...

check out this movie...

Tarnation has to be one of the most compelling documentaries I have seen in a long long time.

Filmmaker Jonathan Caouette's documentary on growing up with his schizophrenic mother -- a mixture of snapshots, Super-8, answering machine messages, video diaries, early short films, and more -- culled from 19 years of his life.

It was quite uncanny, seeing images of Jonathan acting, hearing his voice talking about his mother, his memories exploding and melting before our eyes as a blur of sounds, of panic in motion.

It was quite uncanny to see images of somebody being subjected to shock therapy (a medium shot of the rubber mouthpiece inserted into the mouth to prevent the patient from biting on their own tongue), and to see an old clip intercut as part of this montage, an image hauntingly familiar to me. It was actually quite bizarre and bordering on creepy - a panic and fear stricken lost mind, groping and clawing at the air around him, that look of despondency, vapid thoughts, industrial whirring sounds that start from the base of the spine and throb incessantly behind you eye sockets.

And while watching those images, I remembered that moment all too well.

I wasn't the only one who felt that way

the movie was an hour and 45 minutes. From the opening to the closing credits, I sat riveted to my couch. The cats made my stomach their trampoline, my legs their feline labyrinth, but nothing could pull my attention away.

Sometimes in life, you reach a period when suffering seems like a solitary experience. The pain and fear inside is unique as your DNA; but then sometimes, there is some one who reaches out, tugs on a hidden strand or two and in that moment, what seems like a tangled web are actually pieces of a common thread.

I now believe that the path to hell and back is a familiar one for many of us who have suffered, and perhaps, we have all seen each other at some point along the way.




and in my midst of creative angst, despair and worry, the tagline to the film speaks to me in so many, many ways.


Your greatest creation is the life you lead...

Another pot hole in the road to recovery...

Another pot hole in the road to recovery...
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty.

Well, the picture tells a thousand words. The absence of skin tells even more...

A tribute to female self portraiters

A tribute to female self portraiters
Originally uploaded by miss cleopatra.

Aliette - one of the many beautiful and uber tallented photographers on flickr posted this tribute today.

It came at such a perfect time for me, and I am sure, many other women as well.

I think that women dont give themselves the credit they are due. Being a woman in a mans world is no easy slice of pie! But so many strong and brave women pave the way for the rest of us every day, along with those who have already paved the way in the past.

I was watching 60 minutes tonight, and there was this one GI, she must have been about 22 at the time of the incident, she had to have half of her skull removed because her jeep ran over a land mine, causing severe body and head injuries. She was in a coma for about 4 months, and the doctor said that she had a 2% chance of survival. When Mike Wallace interviewed her and heard this, he repeated - 2%!! To which she replied: well somebody had to be in that 2% so why couldnt it be me?

I was floored.
That was courage and determination beyond any shadow of a doubt.

She had to re-learn to walk, speak, eat even think again. Its taken her two long years, but she is a real trooper. And its women like that - women who are fearless, not only in the face of danger, but in the face of others and the world who deserve a little special attention and kudos.

Strong women - my mom, and all my fellow female self-portrait flickerites, we*ve come a long way baby!!!

Good news!

Well, the news we have been waiting for is here.

But - we are not out of the woods 100% yet, but the news is good because it means my mom does not have to go through chemotherapy for a year. The biopsy of the lymph nodes that she had removed were 98% negative. The doctor spoke to the pathologist today during my mom's follow up this afternoon and the inital screening had been done - it was just the 2nd part of the test that was not completed yet. But the doctor assured us : if the inital results are negative, 9 times out of 10 they are negative when all the data is collected.

We were all so happy.
No, we were all so ELATED!

The past few days have been such a rush of emotions. I think I have lived 10 years compressed in a month. And the last week - well, my post last night said it all I think...

Today, I went to my mom's house. She was in good spirits. A little nervous , but didn't let it show. While she was getting ready, I peeked into her room. She was struggling with her hair (it's curly like mine) and said can you help me do something with this ?! Normally, I would have said - ah, just leave it like that, it's natural , but I remembered a friend's advice.
Do things with your mom - girly things like go shopping, put on makeup, take pictures before she goes through chemo. It's important for her to feel like she is still a woman and pretty. Chemo not only kills all the cancer cells, it also destroys your immune system and your sense of idenitiy. Help her to remember good one before she begins this difficult journey.

And so I did - put on her makeup. Her lids were droopy, lips depleted of their youthfull collagen, but it didn't matter. I made her look beautiful anyway. I could tell she really enjoyed being 'made up" even if it was only to see her oncologist - the man who would decide her fate and course of treatment for the next few months ahead.

She was optimistic, and didn't want to think about worst case scenario. Who does? Who would? And after seeing the plastic surgeon who looked at the gaping hole in her back, declairing it healthy and healing marveleouly, I saw the look of releif and color spring back into her face.

Now the final results.
Biopsy - negative or positive?

We sat outside the doctor's office - the three of us lined against the wall. Mom, best friend (sister by proxy) and me. Three strong women walking the plank over the waters of illness, knowing that death was an island too close to shore, but we keep our resolve. We are going to beat this. It will be negative.

My mom leaned over to me and said I was so optimistic up to now. I don't know what I'll do if it's positive. I mean, one year of chemo. That's alot. And what if it's spread?
We'll take it one day at a time. Like we've always done mom.

And she looked at me, as I have looked into her eyes so many times - wanting to beleive, hoping and trusting that she/I was right. It was a strange moment. I now understood what she must have gone through - trying to be optimistic, strong in the face of adversity and uncertantiy, and trusting that life will somehow give your the resolve and hope to see it all through.



After the diagnosis, my mom got up and thanked the doctor.
Can I give you a hug?
She was so cute.
She walked up to the tall doctor and hugged him hard. I am sure he knew that she was thankful.
I am sure that is a wonderful feeling - perhaps a balance when you tell someone that they only have a few months to live.

Sadness balances out the happiness.
Happiness balances out the sadness.

it's all in perfect working order.


After we left the office, I said to my mom and her friend: you know, happy hour has just started in most places...

We did'nt hit the bars. I think with the level of exhaustion that we were at, one sip of wine and all three of us would have been under the table. So instead we opted for delicious home made pizza and laughs at a local resturant.

And we laughed and laughed.

And I thank God, the universe, the bigger life force that we at least have one more chance, a little more time to be together.

2mrw is only a day away...

2mrw I go with my mom to the oncologist.
We will find out if the biopsy of her lymph nodes is positive or negative.

If positive - chemo for up to a year. Surgery to remove the rest of the lymph nodes too.

if negative - chemo only for a month, and of course, follow up treatments to make sure the cancer has not spread...

The words of the surgeon echo in my head...
yes, she's curable, but according to this scale (pulling out that fucken sliding scale) - with the depth and size of the tumour, she has 3 to 5 years at best... BUT every case is different, I'm just telling you what we are working with...

I think it's gonna be fucken weird - if the stuff comes back positive, and they give my mother this time line death sentence/best worst case scenario. I think we are all gonna flip.

I am getting more and more tired.
I am putting on weight - so much. Can't stop eating - it's disgusting. And i feel myself falling deeper and deeper into a depression. It's not so easy to pull myself up by my bootstraps anymore. This depression is deeper than not getting my way in the trivialities of life, it's more of a period of existential angst.

On the purely surface and self centered level, I ask: I'm, approaching 40 and what have I got to show for it? Who is going to take care of me when I'm old and grey? But on a deeper level, looking into myself I wonder: Is there any reason for suffering? Is there a light at the end of the tunnel? And the choices I make now in my life - is there a need for them to be based in a spiritual beleif system that would hopefully and according to the scriptures) save my soul when I die? Is this all just meaningless? Is there any point in suffering, and if there is, why would any God want to make us suffer - some more than others...


We celebrated my grandmother's 85th today. She was adorable. I bought her some blush, lipstick, an eyebrow pencil and a powder compact. She was thrilled: how did you know I wanted a compact like this!?

I helped her put on her makeup.
She was so pleased.

My mom got her some jewelry. We all sat together laughing and having souvlaki - her favourite food.

We went downstairs to bring her 50 plus flower arrangements to her room. She sat in her wheelchair, hunched, and tired. My mother went to hug her. My grandmother then turned to me: you take care of your mother K - she spent all her life taking care of us, you take care of her like she is taking care of me.

I nodded and smiled, gave her a hug and gave my mom a hug as E and I got ready to leave. I held my mom's hand and she looked at me: I am so afraid about 2mrw.
I looked at her and smiled: it'll be okay, you'll see.

I said goodbye and then walked down the hall and saw all the old people, slumped in their chairs, shuffling along in their walkers and felt sad, so very sad.

I am afraid, so very afraid.

I barely have enough strength to pull myself out of this thick black fog? How am I going to be able to be strong for them?

Do I have to fake my confidence ?


What do you do when you feel yourself spinning and sinking into a ditch that once pulled you down into the jaws of madness - a too close for comfort memory that is now hanging over my shoulder...

I cry every night, during the day when nobody is around, whenever my mind begins to rest - the moments in between rotations of the wheels in my mind.


The visuals, clear as day, the sounds - a voice to familiar and too painful to remember have become tar attached to the memory of the last words in my film...

"this depression, it grabs you, it suffocates you. I have no strength to go on. I am lost, I am afraid..."

I am so fucken scared. I feel that this is all going too fast.
Completely overwhelmed and feel so utterly alone.
I pray, but i don't know if I should bother.

I am lost.
I am afraid...

Body pockets

So today mom had her bandages changed – what an event!

Not only did we have to wait almost 2 hours before we were seen, she has to go back next week to get the other bandage (the skin graft on her leg) redressed. Needless to say, as all things in my life – seeing what the doctors had cut away was quite the story…

Imagine if you will a hockey puck. A little larger than the palm of your hand and perfectly round, or, as I like to refer to it – the size and thickness of a Mae West. Now take that hockey puck (or Mae West) and place it just below your shoulder blade. Imagine that this thing has burnt a hole in your skin a few layers deep, or think of a cookie cutter making its way through a mound of dough, leaving only a deep outline of what used to be there.

Well, that was my mom’s back!

It was quite the sight. I thought I was going to faint! And this is coming from someone who has witnessed brain and spinal surgeries. I think what made the difference was the fact that it was my mom – somebody I knew. It was hard to objectify the wound as an entity on its own when the voice I have known since birth is on the other side of this gaping hole.

So standing behind my mom and the surgeon, we saw the remainder of the bandages peel away. B was standing next to me; I was surprised that she didn’t faint, and she was quite surprised at herself as well. Fascinated and revolted at the same time, like curious monkeys, we leaned in closer to look at this strange moon shaped crater.

Hpk – you should have brought your camera! And I did forget, but the opportunity was not lost. Betty dug around in her purse and pulled out her telephone.

“Ah ha! We’ll take pictures with this!”

She leaned closer to the wound, lifted up the device and pressed a button.

SHLINK!

I was sure that sound could be heard down the hallway and into the next ward!

The surgeon, as professional as he was, let us indulge in our fascination and snap away a few more from different angles and various states of wound re-dressing.

The whole experience was surreal – there was my mother on an examination table, bare back facing us, talking about how her hump, lovely lady hump made for complicated bath rituals, and this huge gaping circle looking back at us. And it was deep.

At least ½ inch, if not more and perfectly round. My curiosity overrode my shock as I leaned in for one more shot.

The wound is healing nicely, no infection.

And in that moment, I realized how amazing the human body really is – able to regenerate itself, able to have tissue from one area taken off and replace another spot that is lacking an epidermis. How this wound, this HUGE wound was able to seal itself off at the edges of the incisions so that surrounding sink would be exposed, how there seemed to be a protective barrier between the muscles and network of veins and nerves just below the surface of the graft. It’s incredible – the body’s design to be able to continue functioning even when part of it has been removed. Taking a quote from Deepak Chopra who talks about the intricate nature of the body machine - millions of years of evolution can’t be wrong!

She will be going back on Tuesday to have the wound re-dressed once again, and have the protective layer on the graft (on her thigh) removed. This square that covers the wound looks like a thin sheet of warn, weathered rawhide. I can’t wait to see what lies underneath – because at this moment, as she lay sleeping, billions of cells are working around the clock to heal and rebuild that one spot.

It’s like Christmas all over again!!

we had a good time after though – we poked fun at her new storage compartment.

It looks like a speaker – a car speaker to be exact, the ones that already come preinstalled with the car…

This would be a good place to store a sip sack, or a little Ziplocs filled with Gatorade, and we can attach a bendy straw that will go from the pouch on your back, you’re your shoulder and into your mouth. Hands free drinking!

When you travel to foreign countries, you won’t need a money belt; you can just stash

your extra cash and passport into the hole in your back! Nobody would ever think to look

there!

The CIA can stick a little surveillance device there, and use one of your moles as the hole

for the camera to see through. But you’d have to be wearing backless dresses a lot. Not

very practical in the winter though…

If you keep on losing your car keys…

It can be fitted with a remote sensor so that you can open doors just by pressing on it –

like those round discs with the handicap symbol on them which you see near entrances

and exits.

It was good to have a laugh about that. And laugh we did. Hearty, gut wrenching giggles and chuckles. I really think the healing process begins and can be accelerated with a little humor…

(why is blogger acting so stupid and reformatting my text?)

Me, moi, yo, io...

This was my daily ohm for yesterday.
There are days when the timing of these things makes so much sense - as this one did...

I have been spending so much time being the good daughter, girlfriend, friend, pet owner that my needs have been going unmet. I am just going on automatic pilot. I think my body is starting to take notice and wave some red flags in protest.


January 31, 2006

The Importance Of You
Aries Daily Horoscope

You might be feeling introspective today and may want to spend some time alone. There may be thoughts that are weighing heavily on your mind and need your undivided attention. Perhaps there are new intentions that you'd like to set. Even if you are busy today, consider making time to be with yourself. Everyone needs time to nurture themselves and cultivate their ideas so they can bring them forth onto the physical plane. If you find that people are clamoring for your attention, give yourself permission to tell them that you are unavailable for a while. You might also think about silencing the phone or turning off the radio or television. Nestle into a favorite chair and meditate; or take a solitary walk today in an area that calms and soothes you, so that your mind can be free to turn inward.

Time spent in personal reflection is time spent reconnecting with ourselves. This practice fosters a deeper understanding within us of what is most meaningful in our lives. It also gives us a chance to work through anything that might be puzzling us. When we spend time with ourselves, away from distractions, we can hear our inner voice speaking to us more clearly. You also spend time engaging one-on-one with one of the most important people in your life-you. Allow yourself time and space alone with your thoughts today, and you will find that you have many answers to the questions in your life.

Fuck off blogger, microsoft and intel

I just spent the last half hour blubbering my lungs out about my fear of losing my mom, how I feel pretty shitty that I can't really do anything to change the diagnosis, listing the types of people who have come forward to help/lend a shoulder to cry on - and I press one renegade key - and everything disappeared!

I guess that says a lot about my state of mind/heart right now.

I tend to put all my eggs in one basket - run headlong into something without checking if the breaks work and then when it's too late - crash.


I am still reeling from all of this - and am a little disturbed as to whom I can really confide in about this - my struggle, fears, sadness.

There are some friends I have, but they have their own lives and problems, but it stings nonetheless when you reach for someone and they yank their hand away because they are too going through some imbalance.

I feel that no matter where you turn - you're fucked.

Sure, I can get all Zen on your ass - about going with the flow, Ophra-izing all of this tragedy into "stages of learning" and working past the pain, but who am I kidding.


When you need someone to listen - when you hope that somebody will be there to help and they retract into their own thing, it bites.

Is this selfish? Is this being self-centered? Being self-absorbed?

I don't know what the fuck it is, but it is getting me really down.
Confused.

I don't want answers, I just want a hint.


Just one fucken hint...

Melancholy's greek roots are black and bile...

I got a call from my bro E.
He just called to check up to see how I was doing.
He is my bro - but I have two sisters - one from high school (she adopted me into her family of four brothers and 4 sisters), and the other one from a snowy scandanavian country who has been both mentor and mentee during our friendship. A nice family - considering that I don't have any biological brothers or sisters...

The last time we spoke on the phone was just after our little trip to NYC - It was Thelma and Louise and Carrie Bradshaw. E, Pet and myself on the road on the I-98, singing and laughing all the way. It was the shortest 36 hours I have spent - it flew by in a blink of an eye, but each minute was super charged with fun and memories that will last me a lifeitme.


He called to say hi - to see how I was doing after the whole thing with my mom - now that she was home, after the operation, how I was holding up, how we were feeling. It was nice to know that people care - that some people are not afraid of getting involved in other people's lives becasue things can get too sticky. I am so very happy I have my friends - my bro and sisters. Without them, I don't think I would be riding out this storm so well, so gracefully.

Am I waiting for the other shoe to drop?
I don't know.
it all seems so surreal...


melan- + cholE (greek origins - black and biles)

Why does being melancholy have such a bleek gramatical historical root?

When I feel melancholy, I don't experience any sickness or upset. It's actually the opposite - I get a warm, mushy - sitting in the sun - warm all over feeling. Sitting with my mother tonight, I remember when we took our roadtrip to Boston - Cape Cod years ago. Sure, we fought. What mother and teenage daughter don't fight; but there were good times. I felt melancholy about that summer, those times we spent together. I wonder what our next trip will be, and if we are doomed to have our last too soon...

Memories - melancholy - a slice of temporal cheese cake that is nice to indulge in, but done too often, can easily cause heartburn and sometimes, even heartache.

Black bile...

I wonder what the origin of melancholy would have been if the ancient greeks had discovered Tums or Rolaids...

Going home...

Well, she came home today. She was discharged at noon and we were there to pick her up. She was waling around, a little slower than usual, but getting around nonetheless. I know she was anxious to get out of there – lying in a room with three other sick men does not make a lady feel good…

She seems to be doing okay.

I think I am doing okay as well, but sometimes I feel as if this is all a dream, and that she does not have anything, that this was just an operation…

I am waiting for the other shoe to drop – the bad news to come screaming into my life like a heroine addict that’s gone days without a fix.

Can she be fixed?

I refuse to believe that this can kill her.

But the reality is there, isn’t it any cut and dry answers. People die from cancer all the time, but then again, there are so many people who survive! So many people are saying: “it’s all in the attitude”. I wonder what it will be like when she starts chemo, when she begins to lose her hair, when she begins to get weak and sick from the treatment – will the will to live still be there, as strong as it is now?

God knows when I was at my worst during my episodes; nothing could have made me want to sick around to see any possibilities for a cure.
I didn’t even care if I lived or died.
Everything was bleak and lifeless.

I am very afraid.

Money is another issue.
I feel as if I am constantly being tested – my friend is selling his lite kit – 700$. A steal for what it’s worth. Then there is the art festival in Seattle in March. And then, and then, and then…

The list is endless, but my time and pocket book are not.
And that freaks me out too.

And my body is in a state of revolt – I think I might have some cyst on my ovary acting up again. The right one feels like its being stoked with a really sharp pencil. I had that before – PCOS – poly –cystic –ovarian –syndrome. Sometimes these little cysts get nasty.
Sometimes they turn cancerous.

So many people have cancer – I can’t help but think that in some strange way, I might be next. Either that or turning 40 will come first – and both will send me into a complete crisis.

Road to Nowhere

Road to Nowhere
Originally uploaded by Kier42.

This beautiful photo echoes every feeling, mood, thought that I am going through right now.

Mom's surgery is scheduled for 2morrow. I am staying over at her house and then going to the hospital with her in the morning. My life will be on pause for a while. It's scaring me to no end. I can't even begin to imagine how scary it will be for her.

I don't even want to begin to imagine...

I am feeling like I am lost in a fog - somewhere between reality and dreams, where sounds are muffled and soft echoes of orchestra strings fade off into the distance. This all seems like a dream.

We have yet to receive a prognosis from the PET scan. We are hoping that no news is good news...

Rose

Rose
Originally uploaded by spiritedTurtle.

This is for my mom - she is going into surgery next Tuesday and we are all waiting on pins and needles as to what the prognosis is.

Her name is RoseMarie - Rose for short...

Thank you spiritedTurtle for this beautiful shot.

Two Guys and Chick in a car...

Well, did it again!
Went to nyc on the weekend and I had a BLAST!!!
Serious fun and crazy stuff!

Went with two of my bro's - P (he played the transvestite and the Gino in my play) and E (who played Big opposite to Carrie Bradshaw) and a nice roomy rental, headed down the I-89 Friday night - a back seat filled with junk food, 6 king cans of beer, and a really expensive bottle of Elizabeth Arden Anit-Wrinkle cream*

At first, it was just supposed to be E and myself, but a last minute phone call from P added to our possé. It was like being with 1/3 of the gang from Sex and La Cité all over again! And boy, was it just like the old days - only better! We were actually on our way to New York City - 3 Montrealers going to visit Montrealer #4! (how creepy is that - we were our own Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte!!)

Charlotte - Z
Miranda - E
Samantha - P
and of course - moi as Carrie!!

Hmm, potential script idea!!

Well, carrying on with our story...

Friday Afternoon into the evening...





* That's the Elizabeth Arden incident - that will come in another post...

Stop running...

Originally uploaded by caehl.

How true this is for me in so many ways...

bird of life

bird of life
Originally uploaded by Janesdead.

This was taken by one of my fave photographers on Flickr - his screen name is Janesdead and his images are brilliant!! Each one has an essence of magic and brilliance that just touches me so deeply that when I see them, I just can't help but to be lifted up. He dedicated this photo to me and my mother "for hpk and family - love and hugs".

I know that my mom is really being lifted up by all the positive attention and love she is getting from everyone. Outpourings of sympathy and encouragement are just coming out of the woodwork, and I know it keeps her feeling positive, which makes me breathe easier. But it's still hard.

She is my mom, I have always counted on her for support, and to think that she might not be around to see me 'finally break into the buisness', she might not be around to see my first feature film breaks my heart to peices, but I can't think that far ahead. Like she said, one step at a time. And I hope each step she takes, God is with her the whole way.


Thank you Sheldon
You are such a beautiful soul and I thank you for coming into my and my mother's life.

ooxoxx