I also hope I’ve shared the importance of laughing. Physiologically, a good belly laugh is healing. It’s important for patients to brighten their days with comedy and avoid the downers.  It’s not that difficult to find the humor in tough times. I say, when the times get tough, the tough start chuckling.

In an earlier post, I wrote about changes in appetite the nurses warned me might occur. So far, I’ve lost my taste for only two things: Diet Coke and yogurt. I don’t need to drink a lot of soda, anyway, so no loss there. As for yogurt, we’ll see. My yogurt taste buds may recover. They also warned me I may gain weight. I have. Five pounds to be exact. I blame it on reduced activity. (I won’t kid you about chemo fatigue)

But then I haven’t lost my taste for chocolate ice cream . . .  DAILY chocolate ice cream.  Hmm. Think that could account for the five pounds?

Diva Cheryl

I’m halfway through my chemotherapy treatments now and have discovered a number of advantages to chemo. Yes, everyone focuses on the negative side effects, but there is an upside. In no particular order, here are the benefits of chemotherapy.

1. No bad hair days. My wig is ready-to-wear and always styled!
2. Shorter showers. No shampooing or conditioning.
3. Shorter baths. No leg shaving.
4. Fewer manicures/pedicures needed.
5. Guilt-free loafing. I legitimately can claim fatigue.
6. No joint aches or pains. Chemo drugs actually alleviate arthritic type discomfort.

There you have it: six advantages to being on chemotherapy. No matter what life throws you, you can find the proverbial silver lining of every dark cloud. But the best part about taking chemo? I’m reducing my chances of a recurrence of my cancer.

Diva Cheryl, still laughing and healing

After all, I write contemporaries which I hope are funny. Suddenly I was asked to write a historical fantasy in a land far, far away. It was a treat to be asked, as the editor who suggested me was a complete stranger. But they were asking me to do WHAT?

The only thing that came close to being something I’d be comfortable with was humor. The rest was a total bzzzzt!

But if anyone thinks authors are all rich, you are in for a surprise. The money was good, so I said sure! I can do that. The dollar signs were leading my brain cells.

It took at least a month to simply research the time period and the fantasy. And then a couple more to suck it up and just write, even though I already realized I was so out of my element.

In two days I was given my answer from this editor I didn’t know. “…totally adorable….”

The point being, I took a chance on something I’ve never, ever tried before. I did it because I wanted the money, but in the end learned that spreading your wings isn’t such a bad thing. In fact, you learn more than you can possibly imagine.

Would I do I again? I don’t know. But for once I spread my wings and love that I did it. Please, everybody spread your wings.

Best,

Trish

The land of the free because of the brave. 

What a beautiful, true statement.

Since Richard and I were alone, I decided to try out two new recipes to see if I’d like them well enough to make for company sometime down the road.  They were big hits with my dear husband who was pretty happy to have something other than the usual baked chicken and salad I’ve been feeding him since his heart attack.  He probably would have been happy with a roasted combat boot.  

I liked both of the recipes, too.  So, I decided to pass them on.  I hope you’ll try them and enjoy them as much as we did.

Corn Fritter Casserole

2 boxes Jiffy Corn Bread Mix

1 (15 ounce can) can whole kernel corn drained

2 eggs, beaten

2/3 cup milk

1/2 cup onions finely diced

1/2 cup green bell pepper finely diced

2 tablespoons butter

3 chicken bouillon cubes

1 1/3 cups warm water

3 tablespoons melted butter

Salt to taste

Freshly ground pepper to taste

Mix together the Jiffy mix, corn, eggs and milk.  Coat the bottom of a nonstick skillet with vegetable oil. Heat skillet to medium-high. Drop a spoonful of corn fritter mix into skillet. Cook on each side until lightly golden. Place on a paper towel to drain. Add more oil as needed to complete frying all the corn fritters.

Melt 2 tablespoons butter in a skillet over medium low heat. Saut? onions and bell pepper until onions are transparent. Remove skillet from heat. Melt 2 tablespoons butter in a skillet over medium low heat. Sauté onions and bell pepper until onions are transparent. Remove skillet from heat.

 Place chicken bouillon cubes in 1 1/3 cups water and dissolve.  Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Crumble corn fritters into a large bowl. Add sautéed onions and bell peppers. Add 3 tablespoons melted butter. Pour dissolved chicken bouillon and water mixture over corn and sautéed vegetables and mix well. Place mixture in well-greased 8-inch square baking pan and cover with aluminum foil. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes. Remove foil and return to oven for 10 to 15 minutes.

Tomato Biscuits

4 med. Tomatoes, sliced                    1 ½ c. shredded cheese (I used cheddar and

½ stick butter                                              parmesan)

1/3 cup green onions, chopped                   1 (12 oz) can refrigerated big biscuits (10  

1/3 cup green pepper, chopped                  per can)

½ c. sour cream                                 ¼ c. bacon, fried and crumbled

½ c. mayonnaise (not low fat)           Pam

In a 9X13 inch pan sprayed with Pam, place biscuits leaving a small space between them.  Melt the butter in a pan and sauté the onions and peppers until transparent.  While they cool, place the sliced tomatoes on top of the biscuits, they may overlap the biscuits.  Then pour the onions and peppers over the tomatoes.  Mix the sour cream and mayonnaise together and spread evenly over the tomatoes, onions and peppers.  Top with the shredded cheese and bacon crumbles.  Let sit on counter for 10 minutes before baking in a preheated 375 degree oven for 30 minutes or until lightly browned and bubbly.

Enjoy!

Diva Dolores

Cheryl's new "cranial prosthesis"

Enough with the red hair. I now have a new cranial prosthesis–no fooling, that’s what it’s called for insurance and IRS purposes–and I’m wigged. This one is more like my own hair, except easier to maintain. But enough about hair loss.

Today’s post is about turning into my mother, many a daughter’s fear *LOL*. First, you need to know my dear mother, God rest her soul, suffered from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Her OCD was mild, perhaps, if compared to the TV character Monk, Howie Mandell, or Howard Hughes, but nonetheless she was germphobic. She carried antibacterial wipes in her purse before antibacterial handcleaner was marketed. I should have bought stock in Lysol. It was her cleaner/disinfectant of choice. She wiped the telephone receiver before using it, washed her hands repeatedly until even Jergens lotion couldn’t help their chafing. She went through at least two rolls of paper towels a day because they were more sanitary than cloth towels. I could go on, but you get the picture.

After my first chemo treatment, my white cells dropped so low I had to have Nupogen shots to stimulate the bone marrow. These shots helped boost my immune system, but by the time they worked, it was time for another cycle of chemo. So with a compromised immune system, I suddenly was faced with a new set of rules.

Avoid crowds. No buffets, pot lucks, or salad bars. No handling of fresh produce until it’s washed. No shared condiments. Sanitary wipes for grocery buggy handles. Wash hands frequently. Wipe down counters, etc. with antibacterial cleaner. In other words, do what Mom always did.

Mom would be proud. I wash my hands, I use my antibacterial hand lotion and wipes, and I don’t wash my produce unless I’m wearing my food handling gloves. Yes, circumstances have forced me to turn into my mother. At least it’s not OCD. This stuff doesn’t come naturally, I can tell you. I’m not a bad housekeeper, but by these standards I was lax. I believed in the five-second rule, and often shared drinks with my hubby. No more.

At least it’s succeeding. I have to take my temperature twice a day to be sure there’s no fever. If I reach 100, I have to start taking antibiotic. So far, so good, so the excessive hygeine is working. But I sometimes imagine I see Mom smiling and nodding in the background with an I-told-you-so look in her eyes. I guess we’re laughing together.

Diva Cheryl

I live in Florida and it’s summer. Hello! I am not wearing hot turbans or big-hair wigs! In fact, what better time to lose one’s hair than summer? Since I live in the boondocks, I haven’t many neighbors to frighten with my sunscreen-lathered bald head. The UPS man delivering a package may wonder if it’s Yul Brenner meeting him at the truck. Or Bruce Willis. But he’s gotten used to it and doesn’t even give me a second look anymore.

I’m reminded of an old Dick Tracy comic strip, featuring a villainess named Miss Egghead (anyone old enough to remember her?). In one unforgettable (to me) installment, a tarantalla from a crate of bananas lands on her head and she yanks off her wig, screaming and doing an arachnidphobic dance. One of the guys unloading the crates of bananas cries “Ay ay ay! A bald señorita.” I guess I prefer “bald señorita” to “Miss Egghead.” *LOL*

I do have a wig I wear in public. This is as much to spare me looks of pity from strangers. I hate that! I’m getting cured, not dying! I also wear it to get my chemo and Herceptin® treatments because that cancer center is like a refrigerator! The wig keeps me warm. The wig is also fun. It’s light auburn. I was born with blond hair, but I always wanted red hair. So now I have it! Sometimes. And I found out Diva Vicki is right. Red hair gives you an attitude! I put on my wig and start singing “I am woman, hear me roar…”  (Did I mention I live in the woods? Nobody but my dear hubby has to listen.)

But the lyrics I love most from that old Helen Reddy anthem apply to my present situation (except I sing it to cancer, not to men). “You can bend but never break me ’cause it only serves to make me more determined to achieve my final goal.  And I bounce back even stronger, not a novice any longer, ’cause you deepened the conviction in my soul!” You better believe it, sisters.

I started to post, for your comic relief, a photo of me bald-headed, but I’d rather show you my “chemo with an attitude” picture as a redhead. I keep saying there’s a fun side to this chemo thing. Also, I’ve plotted out a new book during my treatments. I’m sure that story will be full of attitude, too.

Red hair attitude

Diva Cheryl

© 2010, Vicki Hinze.  All Rights Reserved.

The other night, I watched a Carole King and James Taylor concert on WEAR—PBS.  Carole sang a signature song and the lyrics snagged me.  In the song, a woman says she can’t hide and just can’t fake it anymore and she called the question:  “Doesn’t anybody stay together anymore.”

Admittedly divorce rates are up.  Admittedly, we’re a nation with more single member households than married ones for the first time in our nation’s history.  Admittedly we see long-term marriages—thirty to forty years or more—hit the rocks and the couples divorce.  One of my own relatives divorced after forty-two years.

So looking around, it’d be easy for us to adopt an attitude that the answer to Carole’s question is, “Very few stay together anymore.”

And yet I look at couples I know well—relatives and non—and I see both:  people who have been married multiple times and are single again, and couples who have been in long-term relationships and are still going strong.

The long-term couples go through the same seasons of prospering and hard knocks, having kids with and without challenges, raising kids with and without challenges, adjusting to job losses, transitions in locations, building, buying and selling homes, getting the kids through high school or college, watching the nest empty, and readjusting to living with just each other.  All the normal things that happen in seasons of life.

Some embrace the seasons and some fight them.  Those who embrace them, and do so together, tend to make it through them together.

During the course of a life, a person changes.  We are not the persons we were when we married.  We’re the persons we become.  And we become every day, change every day.  Sometimes slowly, so it goes unnoticed. But just as often, we experience something significant or traumatic, and that change is immediate.  Our partner accepts or rejects that change and either grows with us, accepts the growth, or pieces of the relationship become stagnant or conflict-ridden.

For example, the couple who before marrying elect not to have children.  Then later, one or the other decides they do want children.  The remaining partner might agree or disagree.  Regardless of which s/he does, change is upon them.  They can grow together or apart.  Because a disagreement on something of this significance isn’t going to be easily resolved.  That deception isn’t a factor is a plus.  Reason tells us that we can change our minds; we do it all the time.  But there is no assurance that both will change their minds, and neither is wrong or right, only different.  They’ll work through it and resolve the issue one way or another—together.  Or not resolve it and it will divide them.  And we all know a house divided falls.

There are many times during a marriage when a person has to really work at remembering  all the things s/he loved about the other—the things that drove them to marry in the first place.  And times when compromise was the key solution in resolving differences.

In looking at the marriages that have stayed together and those that fell apart, I see a couple of things that I believe are significant:

1. Those who grew together were fully committed to growing old together.
2. They considered ther own needs and those of the other person.
3. They respected themselves and each other.
4. They voiced their “issues” and resolved them.
5. They were nice to each other, friends.
6. They loved and trusted each other.
7. They considered their marriage valuable.
8. Neither wore a choker chain, meaning they pursued their joint interests and their uncommon ones—and their uncommon interests were spouse-supported.

It’s worthy of note that the majority of these people had spiritual anchors rooted in faith on something larger than themselves, and this too they explored together, and shared in common.

Many years ago, I attended a conference and an agent at that conference gave a lecture.  In it, she cited her relationship with her grandmother and a bit of wisdom shared by her that the agent applied to the author/agent relationship that holds true for marriage as well.

It’s good to have a partner.

Life is full of ups and downs and highs and lows.  Live long enough and you experience both the best and worst of life.  The best is better for sharing it.  The worst is easier to cope with for sharing the burden of it.

No one says you have to get married.  You make a choice to marry or not to marry.  There is no blanket wrong or right answer, only one that is right for you at the time.  Later, you may change your mind based on your perspective or attitude toward marriage changing as you change.  That’s fair too.

In looking at the marriages that fell apart, short or long-term ones, one thing came up over and again.  People did the work on their relationship and married.  But then they turned their focus elsewhere, as if they’d checked off that box on a to-do list, and were done.  They either didn’t know or forgot that marriage keeps a running to-do list that lasts a lifetime.

Marriage is work.  At times, hard work.  Some realize or remember that and devote the work to it that the second most important relationship in life warrants.  Others don’t.

And in that realization is the key to staying together forevermore.

But no more . . .

Spam is now an annoying addition to my morning email . . . scratch that because it’s not just mornings. It goes on all day. ENDLESSLY!

It’s only 9:00 am and already, so far today, I have been offered . . .

• the means to collect a $25 million inheritance from a long lost relative in Kenya
• a discount on an airline ticket if I buy a laptop
• a way to get an unending supply of Viagra and any other drug of my choice
• a URL to a site where I can view a perfect stranger’s nude body
• a way to sell my house at a HUGE profit
• free tuition to an unknown college
• and my all time favorite – a way to enlarge my penis

Okay, now in all fairness, my Internet provider has a place to list words that, if they appear in an email, will be blocked. Words such as: Viagra, penis, sex, porn, etc. However, taking into consideration the emails I’ve listed above, it’s appears to be just that . . . a place to list words that serves no useful purpose beyond that.

Now, I relegate these emails to the spam folder by clicking the “report spam” button. I’m not sure what that does beyond moving them from my email box into the spam folder. One of the drawbacks of cyber communications is that you never know where things go or if they ever reach the eyes of a real person. It does, however, give me a certain degree of satisfaction to banish them to the spam folder.

That said, these spammers are getting crafty. Now these emails have clever subject lines such as “I have an invitation for you.” Don’t open them you say? Good suggestion, but I often get this type of email when a chapter wants me to speak for them at a workshop, so I more or less have to open them. It’s kind of like when the phone rings and there’s no caller ID, but you pick it up anyway because it might be one of your kids, who have misplaced their caller ID, only to be barraged with an offer of a “free” Daytona Beach vacation for two, despite the fact that you live 45 minutes north of Daytona Beach.

What this is all leading up to is a few questions for the spammers:

Don’t you have something more constructive to do with your lives?
People to see?
Places to go?
An education to pursue?
What satisfaction do you get out of becoming an Internet telemarketer?

I sure hope someone is paying you big $$$$$ to be bothersome because I’d hate to think you’re being a nudge for nothing.

Thanks for allowing me to vent,
Have a great spam-free day!
Blessings,
Diva Elizabeth

OMG. I have to hand it to J.J. Abrams and crew – they done better than good.

Even though I’ve said ‘They’re all dead’ since the pilot episode and have been muttering, ‘after all this angst, the d*amn island is just gonna sink’ for two seasons now, last night’s wrap up was so much more than I’d expected.

I’m a sucker for reunion type stories and threads, so Sayid and Shannon, Charlie and Claire, James and Juliet, Jin and Sun reuniting, remembering, coming back together was massive comfort food to my heart. The romance author in me loved the way Abrams pulled it off. The look, the touch, the flood of memories took my breath away, satisfied me that the couples would always be together and left me envious of the concept.

It’s impossible for me to decide which reunion was more satisfying, or more tearful – Jin and Sun ‘alive’ again, Sayid breaking up the fight and remembering a once again ‘alive’ Shannon, a sane Claire giving birth again and an ‘alive’ Charlie being there, or Juliet busting James for trying to tamper with the vending machine – oh, when she handed him the candy bar and they touched – I lost it with each scene. Yep, I’m a major sap, but my family knows that, so they just roll their eyes.

And then Libby was there with Hurley and of course Jack finally remembered Kate.

(sigh)

Thank you Mr. Abrams for the absolutely great ending…now, please, fix the relationship between Peter and Walter, don’t let Olivia be in that glass cage too long and don’t let the ‘other’ Olivia do anything too terrible while she’s in our dimension.

Until next time – be well and take care,

Diva Denise Lynn

This chemotherapy gets funnier and funnier. Did you know one of the recommendations to me was to avoid my favorite foods after a chemo treatment because they may not taste the same and chemo may ruin them for me?! I’m still ROFL over that one. Have you any idea how many favorite foods I have? Hello.

I may as well eat nothing but cottage cheese and bananas for the next four months. Those are about the only foods that I don’t absolutely love.  Sauerkraut and pork maybe. Not too wild about sauerkraut and pork.   I never liked English peas much. If I ruined my taste for those, no loss. So perhaps I should give peas a chance?

Today I caught myself checking out the cans of Ensure at the drug store. No! Ensure is for old people in convalescent homes, right? Pediasure is the kids’ version. Could I drink that? At least it comes in chocolate. Or would I run the risk of ruining the taste of chocolate forever?

Did I mention that, like Diva Dolores, I love to cook? I love creating yummy dishes in my kitchen. So what am I supposed to do for the next four months if I can’t create my favorite recipes?  Cook for others and sit and watch them eat Cajun catfish or wild Alaskan salmon while I nibble at my cottage cheese and banana? I don’t think so!

I’m stubborn enough to test this advice. I will eat some of my favorite foods and see what happens. First, though, I’m arranging a heirarchy of favorites to test. I don’t want to start with my very most favorite food, just in case. I’ll pick one further down the list, like maybe #24, and experiment. Stay tuned to find out what Diva Cheryl learns to eat while on chemotherapy.

Meanwhile, my sweet hubby has purchased several old comedies on DVD to watch with me. No serious dramas. No depressing films. Just comedy. He, too, believes that laughter is the best medicine, especially for his wacky wife! We’re calling this therapy CANCEROMEDY.

Diva Cheryl