Today I Wear Black

Yesterday I wore white.

Today I’ll wear black to honor the children who are now gone from our schools.

I still cannot believe how many people don’t see the bigger picture here.

I heard yesterday that a local district nearby, the schools rounded up all The unvaccinated students, about 100, put them in the cafeteria, and marked them absent.

These are citizens of our country.


Being discriminated against because of their parents beliefs.

Sounds similar to some other events in history where people were rounded up and gotten rid of.

I’m disgusted over the pharmaceutical industry’s power, and how it has seeped into the lives of thousands of children…. healthy children… and is destroying families. Parents who work full time now have to scramble and figure out how to homeschool and have a place for their child to stay.

It’s asinine to think that a high school senior, who has spent their whole life not being a threat, is being kicked out. But if they turn 18 this year, they can come back.

Some people are waking up and saying, “If they try to push Gardisil on my kids next, I’ll put up a fight.” That’s the thing.

No one will stand for others, only themselves.

But in the meantime, the machine gets stronger and by the time it gets to you, you get swallowed up, and no one is left to fight for you.

As for me, we still don’t have an authorization code for the scan. So it looks like I’m waiting until Monday for the scan. Results will come by Wednesday, I’ll hear plans on Thursday, and by Friday or so we will start a new protocol. That’s three weeks without chemo. And the clinical trial coordinator called and said that there isn’t enough tissue frozen from my original biopsy and I will need another biopsy should the pet scan warrant one.

I’m teeter tottering between total fear and trying to kick visions of my wake and my kids and rob crying out of my head, and replacing them with visions of me at weddings of my kids and seeing grandchildren. I’ve got pain in the lymph node, breast, spine and liver. So I know it’s on the move. One woman said it took three and a half years and nine different treatments to find something that worked. I’m praying hard that seven is the number for me.

My sister Jill has a friend who is putting me on a mass prayer chain for healing to a saint. Saturday at 9 am people all over the whole world will stop and pray for an intercession. It’s good timing before the petscan, and a miracle is welcome.

My mom was in the hospital yesterday having a procedure done to help her back. She was in my heart all day. As was Johanna who needed yet another emergency surgery. So many are going through trials now. Be grateful for all you have, and pray for those in need.

It was exhausting yesterday, and trying to teach this new math program is challenging with kindergarten. It’s a lot of discourse and discussion, and with two languages in the room and not much use of materials is hard. However, I’m a teacher of children, not programs, so I’m pulling all my resources out to supplement and make it work. Im also getting another new student today who doesn’t speak English. I’m at 24 children, which is too many in kindergarten, especially with the high poverty and needs and language issues we have. I’m counting my blessings though, as we can go up to 27.

Madison had a track meet and it was good to see her run. She is fighting off a cold and cough and is already getting run down. We all need to slow down a little, including me.

I had open house for Quinn last night, got a lot of hugs and love his teacher. Morgan had him and it was nice to have the deja vu feeling. I also hugged other parents and teachers. I love my colleagues.

Tonight I have his Boy Scout meeting I have to take him too, and he gets his merit badges from the summer. I think tomorrow night I can come home to rest after work.

I’m off to a faculty meeting, and am doing my best to enjoy this time off of chemo while not panicking. Who knows how hard the next one will be, and I dont know how limited I will become. I’m praying I continue to be carried by Jesus and live this life, showing how we can live through cancer treatments. It’s not a chronic condition, it’s terminal. Cokie Roberts from the news died yesterday from “complications from breast cancer”. That’s the line the media always says because “Died from stage four” would be too real and scary, and make people want to fund research instead of pink parties and runs and walks and the pockets of the CEOs.

It’s not complicated. It’s terminal.

Diabetes is chronic. There aren’t diabetics crying over the massive amounts of friends dying all around them. Stage four isn’t chronic. We have the corpses to prove it.

Some day I hope it will be. I hope they don’t run out of treatments for me. I’ve blown through seven in three years. They each get harder, with a toll on my body.

Today may research be funded.

May my mom and Johanna feel good.

May my liver and back stop hurting.

May the cancer be gone.

May the children who have been kicked out of school know that the teachers still love them and will miss them every single day their chair is empty.

May someone come to their senses and let these children back in.

As Jesus said. “Let the little children come to me”…. and he didn’t say, “As long as they had their shots.”

In Jesus’s name. Amen.



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