Today, I should be wiped out.  But, I am not and for that I am most grateful.  Today was a typical weekend day for the Coppinger Clan really.  I was up at 6 to make breakfast and wake the family.  I had everyone up and dressed by 7:30am so that we could make the first two activities of the day – soccer for all three kids.  Boys game at 8:15am followed by Katie’s game at 9:45.  It was chilly so everyone – including me – wore their compression gear.  The games went well and then we were split up.  Jim and Michael went to lunch with Jim’s father and Katie and Christopher and I went to Taco Bell and then home to check on Rider.  After lunch and some relaxation, Jim and the boys headed to a hitting lesson before their tournament games this evening.  While they were gone, I got a couple of loads of laundry done and cleaned up the breakfast plates in the kitchen.  At 3:30pm, the whole family piled into the van for the baseball tournament in McKinney in the rain.  Even though the game had been delayed twice, it still did not start on time and we were finally ready to get started around 5:45pm.  The boys played well with the occasional rain shower and I was able to keep score.  I really enjoy keeping score.  I actually gave it up when I found out I had cancer because I had no idea if I would be able to attend the games regularly, so to be able to keep score is a real treat.  Once the first game was over it was almost 7:30pm, so we drove our wet, muddy crew to Whataburger.  Whataburger is sort of a team tradition.  If there is one nearby, we are usually there between games.  We scarfed down our burgers and fries listening to the players talk and laugh together about the game, video games and whatever else 13 and 14 year-old boys talk about.  The parents talked about how much we really hoped that they would just call the rest of the games so we could get out of our damp and dirty clothes and hop in a hot shower.  As we were finishing up our meal, our prayers were answered.  The final game of the night (our game) was cancelled due to the wet conditions.  I honestly think even the players were happy to be headed home.  So now, here I sit at my computer recounting the beauty of this day.  I am here.  I sat in the sun and the rain and the cold.  I spent another wonderful day watching the absolute loves of my life participate in sports they love and all the highs and lows that go with them.  Today, was a good day!


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Oh My! What a couple of weeks it has been!

Hi Friends!  Sorry my last post was two weeks ago.  It has been quite an experience these past two weeks.  So let me catch you up on the Nasty, Sad and Uncomfortable time you have missed…

On St Patrick’s Day, Christopher was not feeling himself. By about 7pm, he started vomiting and honestly did not ever feel better or stop.  He completely missed the traditional corned beef and cabbage dinner (not sure he was all that upset about it).  By 10:30pm he was so tired of heaving that he begged to go to the ER.  Jim took him to an urgent care location near us and they put him on fluids and determined he either had food poisoning or a GI virus.  I decided it was Norovirus.  He was still sick all day Sunday and missed his first day of soccer tryouts Monday.  Michael and Katie went to school, but by the afternoon, they too seemed like they were not doing too well.

Then just after dinner Monday night, the vomit fest for Katie and Michael began.  Katie was first and did not make it off of he couch in time to miss the new family room rug.  Jim and I spent an hour or more cleaning the rug and tile while Katie spent the rest of the evening in the bathroom.   She and Christopher went to bed with barf buckets and towels near their beds.  Michael still seemed ok at bedtime so he did not have a barf bucket when he needed it at 2:30am.  He was also unsuccessful making it to the bathroom so he helped me clean up his bedroom and hallway carpet between 2:30 and 3:30am.  Not the best hours to ty to clean up vomit next to the other kids trying to sleep, but we did the best we could.  Needless to say, he and Katie did not go to school Tuesday.  Michael was too afraid to miss the last day of soccer tryouts and the District Track Meet on Wednesday, so I allowed him to go back to school.   The boys’ day began at 5:40am so they could be at soccer tryouts at 6:30am.  Then a full day of school, followed by the District Meet which ended after 9:30.  Both boys were not home until after 10:00pm and had homework. He and Christopher still did well in 5th and 7th respectively in the 1,600 meter run ten though they were headed to the bathroom every 20 minutes and trying to sleep in the stands.  The terrible timing of this ridiculous illness of course meant that they did not make the soccer team, but they are handling it well.

As for me, I cleaned up too much vomit and also got the virus. Katie and I were home sick together Wednesday and although she went back to school Thursday, I don’t think the virus was quite done with us as we continued to suffer through out the following weekend.  I was well enough to have my regular chemo Monday, but fell ill again during the week.  What a nasty, nasty virus.  I believe it weakened Katie enough that she now has Strep throat and is on antibiotics and out of school again!  Hopefully, we will all be completely done with this thing by next week!

Easter this year fell on April Fools Day with also happens to have been my father’s birthday.  He would have been 76 years young.  We had a lovely lunch with my Mom, Sister and BIL (Brother-in-Law) at my Mom’s house.  We talked, laughed at the kids, watched the fastest egg hunt ever, had a wonderful meal and generally had a very pleasant time together building our new normal.  I love my family so very much.  I enjoy spending time with them and I enjoy feeling the warmth of my parent’s home.  I do not know how hard these things must be for my Mom, who loved my Dad all of her life – quite literally as they met at age 6 or 7.  I hurt for her and had hoped to be able to help her with everything before our newest challenge – Cancer – was put on my plate.  Now even she has health issues that must be addressed.  Oh when will this family get a break?  Too many years of easy, care free living I guess.  Anyway, my Dad was my very, favorite fool.  From gross table conversations, to lighting his farts with his cigarette lighter, to getting down in the dirt to play with his grand-babies.  His impact on my little family will last forever and I am so grateful to have had him and Mom to take care of the kids while i worked.  What precious times.  What a miraculous gift.  What a GIGANTIC hole…..


The picture above is likely the last photo tken of my Dad with his three grand-babies.  It was taken on his birthday in 2017 to recreate a couple of pictures he had taken with the kids when they were younger in this same position.  I’ll include them here…

I love and miss you Daddy!

So, I picked up my hair during all this crazy.  I purchased it from a wonderful woman – Dana – at the Women’s Health Boutique in Plano (Independence and Parker I think)  The one I tried on was gray and I loved the cut.  (Actually, I think I loved the gray too!)  Dana suggested a warm tone closer to my actual color and this is what came back.


I think it is really cute, but my kids walked right past me when I wore it for the first time.  It still feels fake and its kinda itchy.  I do not have the fit right yet so it is either too tight and crawls up the back of my head or it is too loose and slides back.  I probably won’t wear it very much, but I wanted to have something so we could go out to eat and not deal with people who stare.  Katie gets very upset and glares at folks in the store or at the restaurants.  being bald-ish does get me a few perks.  People hold the door and let me go first, but it feels weird because usually I have forgotten that I have no hair and left the car without a baseball cap or hat.  Hopefully I’ll get to some point where it all feels some sort of normal.  As for now, “Bob” lives mostly in his box.  Except for the ocasional trip to a kid’s head!


I’m stealing my blog sign off from a good friend and favorite baseball blogger, Tepid Participation.   He ends all of his blogs with the following words that sum it all up…

Love ya!


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Dang! It’s the 19th again!

Stupid date comes around every month.  Without fail.  I look up, wonder why I feel blue and BAM there it is – UNLUCKY 19!  I was looking at my Facebook feed and the memories sugestion came up.  When I looked at everything facebook had collected for this date in history, one post on this date in 2014 I mentioned that it was a tough day and I hoped tomorrow would be better.  I have no idea why I felt that way or what happened.  But I know why the 19th will forever be a thorn in the side of any day from now to forever!  BOOOOOO HIIISSSSS 19!!!


Today is also a day of sixes.  I had my 6th chemotherapy treatment today marking the halfway point in my first cocktail of treatments.  I feel good except for the red, sore bumps on my very few hair follicles.  Mostly where my head rests on the pillow or the band of my hat rubs.  Nothing much to do about it but use a gentle soap and some antibacterial cream so…bring on the neosporin and the bald head!

AND – Six months ago today, we said goodbye to my Father.  He had gone into the hospital late Saturday night with trouble breathing and general weakness.  He had butt-dialed his older brother and did not have the strength to hold the phone to talk.  Mom, Dan (his brother) and the EMTs who answered the call, all had to convince my Dad he needed to go to the hospital.

I understand his hesitation.  He had been in the hospital from mid April to June 6 because of a motorcycle accident at the YOUNG age of 75.  He shattered his leg from the knee through the ankle.  They fixed it by running a long rod down the legnth of the tibia and screwing a metal plate to a number of bones in his ankle.  He also fractured his hip/pelvis and broke his wrist and pinky on his opposite hand.  He tumbled so many times that he does not remember his helmet flying off and his body scraping along the road with enough friction to burn his clothing into his skin and put a couple of painfull strawberrries on his head.  When he went home to an empty house in June, he was still not allowed to put any weight on his leg.  Makes it interesting to lower yourself onto the toilet with one broken leg and an opposite broken hand.  Very tricky business – probably messy too!

I digress – in September of last year, Mom and Dad had both eaten something that did not agree with them earlier in the week.  They were both pretty sick for a couple of days then Mom started to get better, but Dad did not.  Two (or maybe three) days later, she made the decision and called an ambulance to come get him.  She told us and then the next day the hospital called and said they were going to have to intubate him soon so I needed to come down asap if I wanted to talk to him.  I arrived about an hour later just as they completed the intubation.  I was too late to talk to my Dad.  I was pretty pissed.  They called me to come, I made arrangements and got down there as soon as I could and still they did not wait.  Why did they even call?  I had talked with him earlier.  He had been on the phone with Mom earlier in the morning and she said he seemed fine.  Still wispering, but fine.  But when I talked to him around 10am, he could only whisper I could not understand most of what he was saying and needed the nurses to hold the phone.  The nurse actually got on the phone at one point and said it was just too hard for him.  After my sister called they made the decision not to let him talk on the phone, and then when that changed nothing, they called my Mom to have her ok an intubation.

One good thing is that shortly after I got there, they were bringing him off of the paralysis medication to check to see that they were getting good breath sounds, good oxygenation and all that.  They also ran a tube onto his stomach that also came out of his mouth with all kinds of green yuck in it.  Looked like old, browning, soggy, spinach chunks in spinach juice.    When he came around he was fighting the tube, gagging and moving uncomfortably.  He could not see me in the room and seemed to be looking for someone to help.  I got up, went to the side of the bed, and put both hands on his chest,  I looked him in the eye and he looked at me.  I said, “Daddy, don’t try so hard.  You have a tube down your throat to help you breath.  You have another one emptying your stomach.  Try to relax nd let them do their job.”  He blinked slowly and nodded slowly up and down.  Then I said, “I am so sorry Daddy!  I know this is awful, but you are very sick.  You must try to relax and let these people help you.  I love you!”  He blinked and nodded again just as slowly as before.  I stayed with him, eyes locked until he began gagging pretty severely and lots of green junk came up through his tube.  Then I went out into the hall and grabbed a nurse.  They surrounded the bed, checking their instruments, making sure the tube was inserted as far as it was supposed to be, said things like, “I know, I know, I’m sorry but we have to do this.”  Then they gave him a sedative and he drifted off to sleep.  He was the same the next morning, sleeping, moving at the sound of my voice, but not looking at me, not communicating with me.

That was September 18.  ON the way home that night, I had to pull over and curse the universe.  I screamed, moaned, cryed (a really ugly cry), slammed my hands on the steering wheel and yelled, “NO!  NOT MY DADDY!  IM NOT READY!!!  I WANT HIM BACK!!!  I WANT MY DADDY BACK YOU HEAR ME?!?!?!”   It’s just coincidence (maybe) but about 30 minutes after I got home, the main doctor called.  MY Dad’s heart had stopped.  They had performed CPR and broken some ribs which in turn collapsed a lung.  Not only was he not getting better, but now he would need to somehow recover from these new injuries as well.  During the course of treatment it was also discovered that his blood was not really giving the medicine to the areas of the body that needed it.  The thousands of dollars of antibiotics, blood pressure and other meds were not making it to the areas of need and were not being absorbed.  He was not getting better, in fact he had steadily gotten worse.  Now with he additional injuries (common when resuscitating especially an older person), it did not look good.  He wanted us to plan to come down in the morning and to consider taking him off of the life support systems he was relying on to live.

I did not cry again until my father’s memorial gathering in October.  My father was already gone.  He left us when I was crying in the car.  His heart stopped and he was gone.  That fact was confirmed when I saw his body lying in the hospital bed the next day.  Yellow and swolen and chapped.  Tubes everywhere, chest rising and falling abruptly with the breathing apparatus.  What a horrific site.  The decision was easy, but I’ll not describe what happened once they turned everything off.  I will say this, once it was over and we left the hospital room my husband declared to me that “I do not want you to be at the hospital or take the kids to witness anything like that with me.” and that and he would never be participating in anything like that again. Can’t say I blame him.


So here we are, 6 weeks into chemotherapy, 6 months after the death of my Dad and both on the 19th of the month.  Interesting timing don’t you think?  Once could go crazy thinking about all of the possible reasons why.  “But I can’t think about it now, I’ll go crazy if I do.  I’ll think about it tomorrow.  After all, tomorrow IS another day.”

Love to you all!!!

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I spoke too soon!

Monday marked my fifth chemotherapy treatment.  Almost half way through my first medicine cocktail!  Because the kids were on spring break, I had the pleasure of having Katie come keep me company.  She is such a great helper and was the center of attention.  One of the doctors brings his little dog in to brighten the room and he gave Katie some treats and commands to give the dog.  So cute!!!  I loved having her with me!


My chemo buddy Katie! Love this girl!

And of course all the talk of keeping my hair jinxed me.  Literally the day after my last post, my head began tingling and my hair began falling out.  Bed head is a real struggle with short hair so each morning I grab the spray bottle and comb and go to work.  This particular morning with my first pass of the comb, it was filled with hair.  I always get some hair, but this was different.  Then I reached up and gave it a little tug, and with no effort at all had a hand full of hair.  Dang!

I kept it up for the rest of the week really, just not pulling on it too much or blow drying and styling, but Saturday, the wind made me look like a tree loosing its leaves.  Every time it blew, hairs flew off of my head.  So, out came the clippers and gone went the hair. Its pretty hard to clip your own head.  I look a bit like a mangy mutt, but my head is not perfectly round so even the boys gave it a go and did not have much luck.  A friend told me to make head wraps out of t-shirts.  I even watched a tutorial or two, but honestly, I’m not too comfortable in those.  I even forgot my bald head and went out the store with Jim with nothing on the old noggin.  I did not remember until someone gave me that, “Oh dear, she must have cancer” smile.  It was not really a big deal though.  Just another part of this crazy journey.  For now, I’m experimenting with ball caps, skull caps (when cold) and maybe a head wrap or two.  We’ll see what feels best.  I’ll get the wig this week or next week, whenever I hit my total out-of-pocket.  It’s cute, but the deal is they put SO much hair in these wigs, they don’t really look or feel natural.  I’ll probably only wear it out to dinner or something.  We’ll see.

As far as my health goes, I’m still trucking along with no real problems except fatigue – which I had anyway cuz, you know – KIDS!  Thank you for your messages, cards, gifts and offers of help.  I expect that phase two of my chemotherapy will be a little rough and know for sure I will need help after surgery.  If all goes well and we stay on-schedule, I should be moving to the next phase of chemo around the beginning of May and surgery should be around the beginning of August.  This is a LONG journey.  From my current perspective, getting rid of the cancer seems to be the easy part.  It’s recovering after that looks ominous.  Re-building something that resembles me before cancer, but with all of the battle scars and knowledge that comes from an experience like this.  With all my family has been through over the last year and a half, I can’t imagine any of us will come out of this without scars.  But I feel your prayers and I know you are with me every step of the way.  I appreciate it so much!


No more bed head for me!

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No News is Good News


Putting my hands and feet in ice during my Taxol infusion. The hubs brought DQ for lunch!

It’s true.  I have no major news to share.  I just had my fourth chemotherapy session so we are one-third of the way through phase one of my cancer treatment.  I have no major side effects and feel pretty good most days.  I still have hair on my head, but no sign of the tumor in my breast.  If only I could just quit now.  But alas, they must treat the whole body and so I must press on.  Family and friends are standing by to help me whenever I need and prayers are working to keep me strong enough to attend sports events and concerts and do my regular household chores.

This disease hit my family at a very vulnerable time.  I had committed to helping my mother sort through her life after my father passed suddenly in September.  Then with this diagnosis and the first two months of hounding doctors to see me and get me started on a therapy, I can see that I may still have time to help her.  What a crazy storm we are in.  If you are saying prayers for me, please include the rest of my family as we face a year of anniversaries, birthdays, and celebrations without my father who brought joy to us all.  We can all use some extra strength and courage now!

Love to you all!

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Three times is the charm!


Hair on day 14 of chemotherapy. Still plenty up there.

Sorry friends.  Its late, I’m tired and I’ve still got about 30 minutes of chores to do.  I’ll probably put them off til the morning and then make the kids buy lunch again cuz I’m too lazy to make it for them…I know, I know!  They are completely capable of making their own lunches. I like to have grab and go stuff already set up for them so they can get their full 8+hours, but I do know they can totally do it on their own.  Heck, they’s probably like it even better!!!

Now, on to the news about my third chemotherapy appointment.  So today was cycle 1, day 15 on my therapy plan.  At this point, it is expected that my white blood cell counts should start going down, which they are, but not enough to delay treatment or put me on antibiotics.  My hair should start coming out any day.  So far it does feel thinner, but still plenty of it.  I’m still keeping hands and feet in ice to prevent neuropathy and it is working so far.  No tingling or numbness to speak of.  My main issues are fatigue and irritability – so basically same as before treatment 😉  (gotta figure out how to get emojis on here)

I guess the best news is that I am having trouble finding my tumor.  It was easy for me to find in January and even last week.  Now I’m having to press and press.  It certainly is not in the same place that it was.  At my appointment, I told the doctor before the exam. When he examined the tumor location, he seemed to have the same problem isolating the tumor.  He said, “These are dramatic changes”  with a big smile.  The surgeon I met with who told me about the study said the tumors had been “melting away.”  I’m excited, but very guarded.  I have a very large mountain yet to climb and much harder times ahead.  Heck – I’m still in denial that I even have cancer in the first place, now with no physical representation of the disease, I fantasize that I could just quit now.  But alas, that is not how sneaky cancer works.  The thought is that sub-microscopic disease could be anywhere, or everywhere.  Just because it does not show up on a scan does not mean we can be sure it does not exist.  So, we press on.

Today I flew solo because Jim had to take the girl to the doctor’s office for her lingering cough.  Some very large antibiotic pills were prescribed to try to knock out whatever it is, and she and her Daddy took a trip to the Starbucks for a juice and cake pop to wash the pills down.  I did pretty well on my own.  The  ice torture was not so bad I actually made it until the last 10 minutes of the infusion.  I took my iPad and headphones to watch a show on Hulu, but something was wrong with the wi-fi so, I pulled out a couple of books and read.  It was really nice.  Someone on another row was sleeping and his quiet even snoring made me a little sleepy, but to be able to read uninterrupted for an hour and a half was quite a treat!  I did not feel lonely, because I had all of you with me!  On to Cycle 2 Day 1 next Monday!   I’m ready! and of course I gotta include my own personal hashtag created by Erin – #crushitcoppinger


Thanks David, Michelle, Reagan, and Kylie! I love it!

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Week (or is it weak) 1 of Chemo


First Treatment Cycle 1 Day 1 with Jimbo.

So I started this out more like a diary of the week days during my 24 weeks of chemotherapy.  But honestly, that is kinda boring and whiny.  At the moment, having just completed my second chemotherapy treatment this morning, things are pretty good and I expect that to continue.

Here are the basics of the first (and I expect second) week.  I had trouble sleeping the night before the chemo appointment- nervousness about side effects, worry about not hearing my alarm which went off at 3am to take some anti-nausea meds before the big day, and worry about big needles hanging out of my chest.  My blood pressure was off the charts so they had to take it a couple of times to see if it would go down.  Six (6) vials of blood out of my “port” before the “pre-meds” and then onto the chemo drugs.  All on a very slow drip to be sure I do not have an allergic reaction.  Apparently that is kinda common.  For the first treatment, I was there from 8:30am to about 2:30pm – LONG DAY!

So, the port (have I already explained that?) is kinda creepy.  A little button thingie with a catheter that is implanted in a pocket created just under the skin (GROSS) on my right chest.  The catheter is also shoved just under the skin up to my collarbone where it then meets a major vein to give it a great pathway directly into my heart.  YIKES!!!  Sounds scary and gross and uncomfortable right?  Well it was the part I dreaded the most, and may be the part I now like the most.  It did hurt for a while and still is a bit uncomfortable when I sleep on that side, but it is also great, convenient and fortunately, working well.  Imagine having an IV, but you don’t have to worry about the stick each week AND YOU CAN FULLY MOVE YOUR ARMS!!! Someone told me it was gonna be my best friend and I should name it.  Hmmm – Portia De Chemo?  NAH   Wait…I’VE GOT IT!!!  Say hello to URD!  I looked up names that mean good fortune and there is one from Norse Mythology.  It is the name of one of the goddesses of destiny who spin the threads of life and measure a person’s destiny, and decide fate.  My port is named – URD! Perfect for a gross little buddy right!

Pre-Meds are a fun little cocktail of steroids, anti-nausea meds, and antihistamines.  Probably the one I remember most is the steroid that the nurse said would make me feel like I had “ants in my pants.” I didn’t know it when the nurse said it, but that was a literal description of what the drug felt like!!!  After they are done giving you those, they move in to the heavy drugs!  I think I told you I am participating in a study for Triple Negative Breast Cancer (TNBC) patients with 2cm tumors who are “young” – in terms of the disease at least.  While most with TNBC patients start with a combination of Adriamycin and Cytoxin and end with a drug named Taxol.  For my treatment protocol, I am starting with three meds; Taxol, carboplatin and Keytruda/placebo.  No one knows which one.

The other thing you HAVE to know about is how they torture you when you take the drug Taxol. This drug has a nasty habit of causing painful neuropathy in your hands and feet.  Their answer – frozen booties for the feet and and two bowls of ice chips for the fingers.  The standard time for the infusion is 1 hour.  I thought I could handle it, but the pain was worse than being outside playing in the snow in socks for two hours.  Remember when we didn’t know better and snow was so rare in Texas we would be out for hours and then have to peel the wet frozen socks of of our red aching toes.  I ALWAYS came in crying because I stayed out so long.  This is EXACTLY like that!  My toes hurt most of all and no amount of movement could make it stop.  In the end, I was only able to handle the booties for about 15 minutes at a time.  At today’s treatment I was actually able to keep the booties on until they were too warm and needed to be changed out – maybe 30 minutes.  I only took a 10 minute break and then finished the hour!  I’m kinda proud of that!

The rest of week one goes like this: day two feels a lot like day one except the steroids have worn off so not so full of energy, but still strong and good.  Day three and four the fatigue sets in.  Napping and moving pretty slow on those days.  It was cloudy here during the week so I felt depressed and sorry for myself…And then I got mad at myself!  (More on that in a sec.)  Days five, six and seven are working back up to feeling basically normal.  Besides the fact that you are flushing your pee and poo twice with the lid closed to get the poison away from your skin.  And that you are documenting every little ache, pain, heartburn, nausea – or was that just a burp?  It’s all pretty standard stuff really.  I am happy with how things are going so far and can still do all the things I love to do – clean the kitchen, do the laundry, vacuume the house…crap!  I don’t love that stuff, but it does make me feel better to do normal life stuff.

Now on to my ANGER!!!

Wednesday was an absolutely horrific day.  My personal sadness about how unfair it is for me to have cancer is absolute crap when 17 families are mourning the loss of their family members – 14 CHILDREN!!!  I am so stinking angry.  Our government needs to stop preaching from their soap boxes about party beliefs and rights and whatever and ask the hard questions, get uncomfortably close to the opposition and WRING OUT A SOLUTION!

My cancer is manageable, heck, I feel pretty confident I’m gonna eradicate the buggers from my body never to be seen or heard of again.  I have oodles of support, I have a good, proven plan + I’m helping to test some exciting possibilities for the next generation, I will have ups and downs. Monthly, weekly, daily – heck, sometimes minute-by-minute! But others have been here before me.  The path is laid out, clear and ready for me to walk it.  I need your prayers, but please also pray for those who have worse fates than mine.  Pray for broken families with children and parents taken from this earth through the evil actions of others.  Pray for those who knew there was danger, but not what to do about it.  Pray for those who gave shelter to the innocents and the guilty.  Pray for our country’s leaders tht they find the courage to break from their monetary idealistic chains and can find the truth.  AND most importantly forgive them their misteps – forgiveness may allow them to move past their scripted path and forge a brave new one.  Give them the willingness, the logic, the patience, the compassion, the forethought to look beyond their personal desires and to put in the work to make the solution to gun violence as big a priority as tax cuts, healthcare, and that damn wall!

Peace, Love and Laughter Ya’ll!


Second treatment Cycle 1 Day 8 with my Sweet Momma!



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