I met a new to me author, Vicki H. Moss recently. She grew up with her brother’s flying squirrel and her mother cooked squirrel. While I live in a neighborhood full of black squirrels and some of our older neighbors talk about families that eat them, it doesn’t sound like my fried food for family.  

On Vickie’s blog she posted The Writer Rat, a story about the albino squirrel she encountered while in Beaufort, South Carolina. This next week photos of the albino squirrel will be posted in a number of different blogs and a prize offered for the first to report all the squirrel photos on the different blogs. Keep your eyes peeled.

To learn more about the contest

Where in the World is the Albino Squirrel? Begin the search at http://www.teresaslack.blogspot.com

Prizes and fun.

 Where is a black squirrel when I need one, I’d post a photo of the one that teases our dog Paddy, but …..sigh, he’s not available this morning. Well it is Sunday, maybe he’s gone to church. I’m headed that way shortly.

Still lionhearted, Kat

When we give our lives away, we gain so much in return.

My parents modeled that type of giving from as far back as I can remember. For instance, when we moved into our home on 23^rd and Madison in Eugene the front door of our home built in the late 1800’s, opened onto an ally. Dad remodeled the house, switched the back to the front, and where that front door once was turned into the bathroom. 

But one of my first memories of my parents giving happened before that change. I still see Mom and Dad taking some of our Thanksgiving turkey to some worker that came up the alley. Now it might have been the mailman the day after Thanksgiving, but whoever the laborer, the part I remember is the sharing.   Read the rest of this entry »

“Will he heal? What’s the prognosis?” Family and friends asked that question often when Gary received a diagnosis Pseudomyxoma Peritonei (PMP) in December 2002. I felt exhausted trying to explain what I did not know. Once I shared my meager knowledge with a friend, she proceeded like the old gossip game. By the time she’d told three people what I hadn’t said, her statements gathered momentum and when someone repeated back to me what she told them, I didn’t recognize my friends question or my answer. 

Now I’m the subject of the questions. What’s next? What did the doctor say? How much tissue was removed? Is it malignant? When will you return to work? What about your trip to Oregon? Then comes the, “You poor dear, whatever will you do?” 

So what do I know? The surgeon’s office called last evening and said to call today at 11. I just called, no report yet. The receptionist is to call me later this afternoon. She also scheduled me to see the doctor tomorrow at 9:30 a.m.  

Oh and how do I handle all the questions? Same as I did when husband was sick, write answers. If my answers don’t make sense, oh well.  

Years ago my friend Bobbie gave me an adorable ceramic donkey—it still sits in my living room, she also told me the donkey’s story:  

There once were two men and a donkey headed to market. The men loaded their backpacks and started to town one on each side of the donkey. A man met them on the way and said, “That looks pretty silly to me, you have a good animal. Why not ride?”One man climbed on the donkeys back. They walked further and met another man who shook his head and muttered, “Perfectly good animal and you are walking?”The men looked at each other and both climbed on the back of the donkey. They walked further and met a woman who glared at the men. “You two ought to be ashamed of yourselves. Two of you on that humble animal. You’ll kill your beast.”

Both men slid off the donkey in embarrassment.  

The moral of the story: No matter what your choice, you cannot please all the people all the time. With that I think I’ll rip the bandages off and take a shower. Think I’ll color my hair, too. Looking young will give my moral a boost.

Life is one big comfort zone for me. Give me a lion, soft comfy shirt and a pillow to prop me up. Do you see I found a super long, navy blue, polka dotted scarf to tie me together. Look happy as a lark, don’t you think? Now I wait.

It’s the wait that gets to me. This morning I decided to crawl out of bed at 5:30 a.m. just to listen to Joyce Meyer. I figured she’d have something worth listening to, and she did. 

“You can count on this. You are not your feelings.” Those words were a great comfort. I’m still in wait mode, if I sat around in “feeling zone” I’d have done nothing. Instead I called my old friend Esther in California. Woke her up and you know she didn’t even care. We laughed over old times, hashed a few memories and talked about her caregiving experiences. Read the rest of this entry »

This weekend I grabbed my coffee and studied mission statements. I wanted to share a concise reason for my giving Capsules of Hope Caregiver Seminars. Writing a mission statement isn’t new to me, still I couldn’t define my goals simply.

When I finished the project I felt empowered. Want to see that mission statement, check out the Mission statement page here, or pop over to see my post on STRAIGHT FROM THE LIONS MOUTH 

Build your own, find strength and purpose in knowning where you are headed and why. Choose to make a difference.

Help! Hope! Healing!

 

 

  

HALF

Half cannot begin to describe the amount of time a caregiver gives. Whole is a must. Never half. Not in between. The patient is on the mind of the caregiver twenty-four/seven.

 The first days of Gary’s hospital stay I didn’t try and spend nights at the hospital. He had good care, I needed to sleep. And I did. When he came home the burden changed.

Like the latest TV craze, reality is known by extremes, whether it’s extreme makeovers of houses and bodies, weight loss, or the well-known Survivor Series. The caregiver is a passionate reality fanatic.

The word passionate has evolved to something sexual in today’s world. The true meaning of passion is suffering. The caregiver cannot give half—they cannot stand on the fringes and not feel the pain. The one truly giving of self will work with a wholehearted passion. Totally involved. Never half. Read the rest of this entry »

Help! Hope! Healing!

INSPIRATIONAL TOUCHDOWNS

June 28, 2009 

Email from my friend:

I now have the greatest peace ever, in my every day days I know for sure, without a doubt, doing what God intends me to do…care for my best friend.  He plucked me right out of Wal-Mart, and set me right beside this guy.

Vonnie Skidgel caring for Alzheimer’s husband

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 Help, Hope, and Healing

OUR FINEST GOAL

In 2002 my mentor and friend Vonnie stood well into her journey of care for her husband, Gene. Because of her caregiver duties our phone conversations ceased and we settled for short emails to keep updated on our news.

That same summer I attended a writer’s conference and dreamed of being a published author.

But God had other plans. In December 2002 we rushed my husband Gary to the hospital.

The surgeon said, “At some point, Mr. Crawford, your appendix burst. We found pieces floating throughout your abdomen. We did remove a large mass from where your appendix should have been. You have a rare disease called Pseudomyxoma Peritonei, a cancer of the peritoneal lining …”

And our world changed. Read the rest of this entry »

What Do I Say?

Dear Caregiver,

After my husband’s terminal diagnosis with a rare cancer, Pseudomyxoma Peritonei (PMP), it seemed like some of our friends lost all common sense. They said really “stupid” things. Mom said that was the least of my worries and in a few years it wouldn’t matter. I stewed anyway. Then we attended church.

“Well, Gar, you sure look good. Probably the hospital wasn’t that big a deal anyway.” My white-faced husband stood holding onto the back of the pew while a fellow parishioner made light of his situation. “Looks like you just needed a change of desire, you suppose?”

Change of desire? What kind of statement was that?

Read the rest of this entry »

Published at last. More than a memoir, this book is thirty-one capsule sized stories sandwiched between my story of caregiving and twenty-two pages filled with answers to frequently asked questions by other caregivers. 

When my husband Gary was diagnosed with Pseudomyxoma Peritonei (PMP) a rare cancer of the appendix, I felt confused and even angry. Anxiety dogged my mind and heart. No matter where I searched for a manual of hope, I found none.

Libraians offered me books written by the caregivers for Alzheimer patients and those written by forty-something caregivers taking care of their elderly parents.

When the medical world offered us no hope  Read the rest of this entry »

Cracking the parenting Code by Laura Lee Heinshohn is one of the best parenting books I’ve read in a long time. The book is built in an easy to read, investigative layout. Obviously the author did her sleuthing detective work ahead of time, her FBI questions and resolutions are thought provoking.  

Heinshohn laid out the book in three parts: The Mystery, Solving the Mystery—Six Clever Clues, and Leader’s Guide for leading a 13-Week Small Group course. Read the rest of this entry »