Angelina Jolie Did Not Have Breast Cancer

Recently, in an Op-Ed for the New York Times, Angelina Jolie talked openly of undergoing the procedures to remove her breasts due to the occurrence of the BRCA#1 found on her genetic testing results.  The words 'brave' and 'beautiful' are being splashed alongside pictures of the glamorous actress as she becomes the new poster child for breast cancer.  And therein lies the problem: she did not actually have breast cancer.  But that all seems to have been lost in the glare of Hollywood lights, as fans roll out in support of the actress calling her their hero.  

While most are commending her decision, some see this as merely another symptom of a fearful, insecure society.  A culture that has embraced even the most extreme preventative measures for what the future might actually bring.  Because the future is and will always be, uncertain.  This is a society living with science at the helm, and not putting our faith fully in God's plan for our life.  A society that removes portions of their bodies out of the fear of the unknown.  Without God there is no certainty of what may happen when the body breaks down.  Angelina used many resources to have these procedures done on a body that did not have cancer, only the genetic capability for it.  Instead of using the knowledge to remain vigilant of her health, she let fear lead her.    

Fear is not heroic.  The woman who is actually battling breast cancer and who decides to have a double mastectomy is heroic.  The highly paid actress having expensive procedures done on a healthy body is not brave or beautiful, it is unnecessary and maybe a serious cry for attention.  She did not battle something and then live to tell the tale, as many women have done.  Yet now she is, for the moment, seen as a survivor of a cancer that was never there.  A hero's journey that was never undertaken.  She never spent months on chemo and radiation, watching her hair fall out, barely able to crawl out of bed, and feeling sick to her stomach every day.  

As this story makes its way through the media, may we remember the real heroes, the women who did not have unlimited finances and dealt with breast cancer on God's terms.  
     

        

Unpublished Letter to the Fargo Forum #1

 
Since about 2005 I have been writing letters to the editor of the Fargo Forum.  I was published quite often but as of the November 2012 election it seems they have made some shift in their editorial content.  Subsequently, I no longer get published.  I have decided to start posting the letters here.  Yea for readers of my blog!  Now I admit this last one did use the word bunghole in relation to the current president's administration.  I do not think that went too far but maybe the same newspapers that publish the gory and lewd accounts of murders and sex crimes, cannot publish the word bunghole.  Here is the letter in its entirety.  Please enjoy!  

In the early nineties, Mike Judge brought us the show “Beavis and Butt-Head”. A cartoon parody of life as a middle-class, teenaged burnout in suburbia. One of the more infamous lines from this series comes from the character Beavis as his alter-ego, the great cornholio, states, “I am the great cornholio! I need TP for my bunghole!” After a sugar or caffeine-induced high he slips into the role and begins to make the ridiculous demand for more TP. Anyone who even remotely questions this command is met with the next equally infamous phrase of, “Are you threatening me?” As we watch the Obama administration in action, one wonders when they got a hold of some pixie sticks, descending into a Beavis-like world of inane demands and megalomania. Over the last year, White House reporters have essentially been silenced, given scripted talking points and told to act nice. Bob Woodward of Watergate fame was threatened when exposing lies involving the sequester. And then there were the Benghazi whistle blowers whose careers were threatened by the administration if they cooperated with congressional investigators. Obama also recently made the odd request at a commencement address to, “reject voices that warn against government tyranny.” As this administration wanders around in a delusional state, seeking out perceived threats, I believe it is time for the American people to ask who is really threatening who?    

Jesus Did Not Smoke Marijuana

Over the years, as my relationship with God has developed, I have moved from a realm where God is this happy-go-lucky figure, to one where he is treated with awe and humility. As I read message boards and social media posts from modern-day Christians, the respect, that should be accorded to the one who created the whole world, is missing. Jesus and God are viewed as these non-judgmental hippie-like entities, that are like, “Hey man, I'm cool with you breaking my commandments and laws as long as you love one another.” If that were the case, Sodom and Gomorrah would still be here, since the inhabitants of those ill-fated cities did plenty of loving.

The most recent meme I happened to read on Facebook reads as such, “You call yourself a “Christian”, but Jesus wasn't a snob who judged people by their imperfections. You may wanna get your Bible out and check up on that.” Oh there are so many holes in this I do not know where to begin. It is true that Jesus did not judge and healed all he came across. But he will return to judge the living and the dead. The old testament and its laws were not thrown out with Jesus and his teachings. Here is a quote from Matthew, "Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them." Most will not understand this in our politically correct times. But we will be judged, no matter what legislation has been passed or what we are told to think by the mainstream media.

Judging and hating have become intertwined in our lexicon. The devil, of course, is always in the details and maybe that was the way the prince of air had it planned out. Judging is not hating. You are not an awful or a hateful person if you refuse to tolerate a behavior that your fellow human beings find acceptable. You can still love someone and yet not be a party to their personal struggles with sin. I have loved people who have been drug addicts and alcoholics. But I did not lead them further into the abyss by sanctioning the demons that ate away at them.

The times are rife with pick and choose Christians. The best advice I ever received as a Christian is to not make editorial decisions. Meaning, you cannot base your spirituality and understanding of the Bible on what the media, or your friends, or family say. The Bible is the literal word of God. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the great German theologian who helped the Jews during WWII, stated we must treat it as if God is speaking to us when we read the Bible, like he is in the room with us. And the only way that works if you come to the word of God with a childlike understanding. You must innocently read the texts and not try to unravel them in order to fit your worldview.

In the second coming of Jesus, gone will be the soft robes and sandals, and in their place will be the full armor of God as judgment is meted out to one and all. As a Christian you must not mistake Jesus and his caring nature for weakness but see that he had great power that he was reserving for future judgments. When the time comes that power will be unleashed and as stated in 2 Peter 3:10, “But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything done in it will be laid bare.”

It's A Hard Knock Life: Some Heads Need Harder Knocks

From a very young age I remember perceiving life as an emotional and spiritual evolution. I would go through various trials and tribulations in this lifetime, learning from each experience. As I aged I would advance to higher and higher states of being, attempting to chip away at my flaws. I planned on spending my adulthood in a sort of yogi-like understanding of myself and the world around me. But as the years passed, this plan proved much harder to implement. Many days are spent going two steps back instead of forward and progress is slow going.

I think nearly everyone has a time in their life where they become very jaded and disillusioned. I distinctly remember at age thirteen, becoming painfully aware that the adults in my life were fallible and that I could not fully trust anyone. I do not see this as bad, necessarily. There is not one perfect person walking this planet, that person died long ago. But somewhere between thirteen and my thirties that lesson faded into the background. The idealism came back and I trusted that the people close to me would always remain close to me, that as they aged they would strive, as I strove, to be a better human being.

Due to recent developments with family members, I am re-learning the lesson of trust. You can only trust God to be on your side. Not your spouse, your children, your sister, your brother, etc...I can add another lesson. That not everyone is on an upward trajectory in life. There are people who will continually seek and cause chaos. They will let it enter their life and the lives of those around them. These people use it as a method of control. If someone chooses to constantly play the role of the victim, they do this so that they never have to fully grow up and the people around them can be their caretakers. And then there are the bullies. The people holding the carrot at the end of the stick, trying to make you dance like a puppet. They do this through chaos manufacturing, creating mountains out of mole hills to get the desired reaction.

Now I am pushed through the canal again, seeing the people around me with new eyes, reassessing their place in my life. As a Christian, forgiveness is part of the walk. I have forgiven those who have hurt me many times over. But I too am only human, and I find a bitterness at these same people needing forgiveness once again. The family as fragmented now as it was decades ago. The same situations, only a different day. I find solace in knowing I can choose to evolve while others retread the same paths. I had hoped that by the time I had a child, old wounds would be healed and everyone could move forward. But I must take this as a reminder from God that we are all on very different paths and only once in a while do they converge in a harmonious conjunction.

Forever Family

Forever Family

We come from a place

Where no amount of time can erase

Everyone knows your name

Where you came from

Where you have gone

What you have done

We are here, whether you like it or not

We are here, even if you have forgot

Good times, bad times

Engraved in our minds

Search through the treasures

What will you find?

This is here forever

The ones who won't go away

Neither sun, nor clouds, nor rain

We will enjoy your pain

Forever and ever amen

Forever and ever until then?

Dysphoric Milk Ejection Reflex: A Personal Account

When I first found out that I was going to have a baby I knew immediately that I wanted to breastfeed. I spent the next nine months reading materials and taking a class so that I could be prepared. But sometimes life just has a different plan than the one you have had firmly cemented in your head. And you either have to go with it, or go through the hell that I put myself through.

I remember when my daughter first latched and I was so happy. She took to it easily and I thought to myself, “This is going to be a piece-of-cake”. I didn't spend much time in the hospital and soon enough I was home, trying to establish a routine. Our daughter was born with jaundice so we had many follow-up appointments to check her levels and I would meet with the lactation consultant. It was very over-whelming at the time. I had never spent the night in the hospital, never had a procedure done, and here I was, spending all this time in a place, that to be honest, I hated.

So I was determined to get things right with the lactation consultant so that we could begin our nesting phase. The latching, as I stated, went extremely well, but I was not producing enough milk, and my little one was starting to lose weight. This was the first blow. I tried not to let this affect me as I plunged ahead. But she still kept losing weight and eventually we had to supplement formula. I was getting extremely upset at this time. What had started out so wonderfully was slowly turning into a waking nightmare.

Finally I started producing more milk but then as if on cue, another problematic monkey leaped onto my back. Whenever I would begin the feeding process, a wave of incredible sadness and revulsion would come over me. My husband witnessed as I became somewhat catatonic before and after feeding. My pupils would dilate and it was like another person would take over. No matter how happy I was before the feeding time, it would always, and I do mean, always happen. I tried switching locations in the house, tried different television shows, not having the TV on, and it didn't matter. What should have been a happy, bonding time with my daughter usually ended up with me in tears. I was crying while breastfeeding and I knew this wasn't normal.

But for all the reading I had done, I had not heard of this happening. Eventually I started to pin it all on myself and my failures as a mother. Then I developed postpartum anxiety, which is different from postpartum depression. I had never had a panic attack in my life and now I was having a few a day. They were uncontrollable. Nothing had prepared me for this. I don't even think reading about this would have prepared me for the actual experience. I felt like I had been broken into a million pieces and I was desperately trying to put myself back together.

Breastfeeding became something otherworldly, as I sat there and cried, while doing something that should be natural to every female creature. Eventually I couldn't even think of my breasts without overwhelming revulsion. I discussed this with my OB and she said that yes this happens to some women and that I shouldn't beat myself up. So I made the call and decided to stop breastfeeding. It was a painful decision. One that I still feel to this day. The postpartum anxiety only got worse after this, as I went through mother guilt, and I had to take a temporary medication to get me back to normal.

It was only months later that I learned my condition had a name. I don't even think my OB knew that there was an actual term for this. It is called Dysphoric Milk Ejection Reflex or D-MER. It is described as “an abrupt emotional "drop" that occurs in some women just before milk release and continues for not more than a few minutes. The brief negative feelings range in severity from wistfulness to self-loathing, and appear to have a physiological cause. The authors suggest that an abrupt drop in dopamine may occur when milk release is triggered, resulting in a real or relative brief dopamine deficit for affected women”. http://www.internationalbreastfeedingjournal.com/content/6/1/6

When I read this I felt such a weight off of my shoulders. I had put it all on myself and my shortcomings. I didn't know that what I was experiencing was hormonally related. It doesn't seem that this condition is widely known or discussed. I had let myself and others make me feel incredibly guilty for failing at breastfeeding. And yes, unfortunately, women do not support each other very well when it comes to this issue. I have had little jabs thrown at me by friends, “mother's milk is best”, to insinuating that I didn't try hard enough and therefore must not care about my daughter. I won't name names but women have got to stop this. We should support each other in whatever decisions we make for our children instead of using these decisions to feel superior over another. But I am a realist and I know how catty and controlling most women are so I don't expect this behavior to end anytime soon. All you have to do is read the message boards on this issue. It is sad and shocking to me how judgmental others are when it comes to another persons child, when really I think they care more about lording over someone than whether that child is receiving “proper nutrition”.

With this new information, I feel that I can now move forward. My daughter is happy, healthy, and feisty. I was formula fed, most people I know were formula fed, and there shouldn't be the shame that is now attached with that. I graduated college as a formula fed person, rarely get any colds or sickness as a formula fed person. I don't have asthma or eczema. I am here today to tell those who have made the decision not to breastfeed, to not feel guilty or let others make you feel that way. As long as your baby is healthy and happy you are doing a GOOD JOB! Learn to love yourself, no matter what feeding method, and your child will reap the benefits of a happy home.

As In the Days of Noah

 

Every Fall it seems that yellow jackets find a way to build a nest somewhere on my house. For many years they were able to get into our eaves. So we blocked that off but this past season they found a little place by our backdoor and started a good-sized nest in our siding. I've never been stung and I was petrified to use that door.

Eventually my husband started setting out dishes of soap with Karo syrup and the yellow jackets began dying in the hundreds. Each day he would set out a new trap and more would die. The traps worked and the hive began to die off. I finally worked up the courage to go out there and take a look one day. I noticed a yellow jacket on the ground, trying to pick something up. I watched as he struggled to take flight with one of his fallen comrades.

I knew at that moment I was meant to witness this scene. I was meant to see this creature turn on his fellow, after working in concert to build one of natures most beautiful machines. The hive had been starved off and now they had turned on each other. I thought of our society and how community is encouraged. There are more people living in urban and suburban settings than ever before. I thought of my own city with little parks scattered about, nice walking trails, schools, grocery stores, and churches. It functions well enough, the city planners didn't do a terrible job of laying out the city. But if we faced a threat such as starvation how fast would this illusion unravel?

A yellow jacket's nest, if attacked, will act as one, even chasing the attacker for up to a mile. That is if they are faced with a sudden attack or threat. But in the case of a war of attrition, they will eventually turn on each other, as I witnessed that day. Again I thought of my community. My city is faced with flooding every so often and we diligently fill and place sandbags to prevent a catastrophe. But if food became scarce I wonder how long that friendly Scandinavian spirit would last. Would we turn on each other, much like any tightly grouped species on this planet?

As our nations debt spirals out of control and, as evidenced by the Benghazi attacks, we find ourselves more vulnerable to attack than ever before, it has become prudent to not put much faith into civilization staying civilized in a time of unrest. It is quite ironic that when we are more hive-like than ever before we have a community organizer at the helm. But as mother nature allowed me to see, you cannot depend on others, even those who you trusted, to have your back when vital resources are at stake. I urge my friends and family to get prepared. Hurricane Sandy also showed us how quickly infrastructure can fall apart and how necessary it is to have food, water, and an alternate power source available to you in a time of crisis.

Ultimately our fate is dictated according to God's will, but if you ever feel led to prepare, much like Noah, then you need to heed that call. Remember it is not up the government to make sure you are fed, only our security is under their jurisdiction.

“By faith Noah, being warned by God concerning events as yet unseen, in reverent fear constructed an ark for the saving of his household. By this he condemned the world and became an heir of the righteousness that comes by faith.” Hebrews 11:7