tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-311525852024-03-12T19:58:08.739-05:00the middle-aged mom chroniclesNo, it's not about my children. It is about life.Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.comBlogger147125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-17564312244534882062017-02-23T21:41:00.000-06:002017-02-23T21:43:35.569-06:00A Letter to Ted Cruz<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Dear Ted,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I just read where you called me and my fellow Democrats "bat-crap crazy" during your little talk at CPAC.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I really wish you hadn't done that. Not because it hurts my feelings, but because it makes you look like a small-minded crybaby of a bully. Which is not a very senatorial look. It's also admitting that you don't give a damn about a very large group of your constituents. Because make no mistake Ted: I am your constituent, just as my fellow Texas Democrats are your constituents. It also shows that you clearly think that the status quo of the last 25 or more years is still in effect. You know, the one where Texas Republicans are invincible and Texas Democrats just kind of ceded you the state. And that's also a big mistake. We are waking up and we are not going to sit quietly in the corner anymore and let you or any other elected official in this state (or this country) do whatever they want. We will be heard and respected or you and anyone else who fails to listen to us will end up dealing with us at election time. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In the meantime, let me give you a few examples of things that are truly 'bat-crap crazy':</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It is bat-crap crazy to claim to be pro-life solely on the basis of your anti-abortion beliefs without also being in favor of a few other things. Such as being against the death penalty. Or being in favor of an organization, such as Planned Parenthood, which saves lives every single day by providing health care of all kinds to those who otherwise would not have access to it. It's bat-crap crazy to shut down access to birth control and education about birth control when access to those have been demonstrably proven to reduce the number of abortions. It's bat-crap crazy when you claim the pro-life high ground while you refuse to take in refugees and send them back to die at the hands of the regimes and violence they are fleeing. If you don't care and protect the child, teenager, or the adult that baby grows up to be, then you are not truly pro-life. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It's bat-crap crazy to spend money on 'bathroom' legislation, instead of spending money on public education or programs that combat human trafficking. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It's bat-crap crazy to pour billions into building a wall along the U.S. - Mexico border to keep us 'safe' from non-existent 'rapists and criminals' when our nation's infrastructure is decaying daily with no plan to repair or replace it. You want to keep people safe and create jobs? Put the money into repairing and replacing our nations roads, bridges, and dams. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It's bat-crap crazy to spend millions to deport people who have never done any harm to anyone and to separate children from their families by deporting their parents, then potentially dumping these children into our overloaded and underfunded foster care system.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It's bat-crap crazy to ban all Muslims from entering because of the actions of a few extremists. Especially when the facts show that the average American is in more danger of being killed by a toddler who finds an unsecured gun than a terrorist who entered the country illegally. (And yes, here's the stats: <a href="http://www.snopes.com/toddlers-killed-americans-terrorists/)">http://www.snopes.com/toddlers-killed-americans-terrorists/)</a> Oh, and by the way, people who have truly studied the issue of terrorism say the main thing that will be accomplished by this ban is to make it easier for the terrorists to recruit. Hate breeds hate. So, maybe we need to think about ways to break that cycle. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It's bat-crap crazy to pass laws that allow corporations to pollute our water and earth in the name of 'creating more jobs.' Seriously? How is that going to work? Are the proposed jobs going to be in health care nursing those who get ill from the chemicals being dumped?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It's bat-crap crazy to dismantle the ACA, leaving people without coverage and potentially causing the deaths of the seriously ill who will lose their coverage without a workable plan in place. And I don't mean a plan that won't work for the neediest among us.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It's bat-crap crazy to spend millions investigating over and over again, Hillary Clinton's emails and then to refuse to investigate Trump's staffs' ties to Russia, when the red flags are clearly there. This is partisan politics of the worst kind. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It's bat-crap crazy to not stand up for a free press and to defend at all costs freedom of the press, a press that fact checks and stands against the promulgation of hatred, bigotry in all its forms, and racism. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So, based on this Ted, who's the one who is bat-crap crazy? It's sure as hell looks like it's not me. Or my fellow Democrats. So you think about it. And if you decide that you don't care about us, well, we'll see you in 2018. Actually, we'll see you before then too. At every event you hold. And we'll be calling and writing too. We've been silent too long and we are not going to go silent again.</span></span><br />
<br />Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-36819066628878052592016-12-24T23:17:00.000-06:002016-12-24T23:17:55.000-06:00Peace to You.It's Christmas Eve. In the past, I've posted a Christmas wish list, which is usually a list of things, mostly political, that I want desperately to be resolved. Given what has happened this past year, I really thought I'd be posting that again. But I'm not. Despite my despair over the result of the election and what is happening to our country, I find myself focusing instead on what I am grateful for tonight.<br />
<br />
My sister Julia reaching six months in remission from Acute Myeloid Leukemia and also the successful removal of the two melanoma tumors she had. How wonderful is it that she is in great shape despite fighting two totally different cancers this year? I am beyond grateful for her doctors at MD Anderson who have gotten her to this point. But more than anything else I am in awe of how Julia has handled everything she faced this year. An added gift is the increased closeness to her that I have and which I treasure every day.<br />
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My relationship with my sister Jane. In the past few years, with all that has gone on in my life, the losses I have faced and dealt with, never did I imagine that it would be this sister who would be my bulwark and the one I could turn to. I can only hope that I have been a tiny fraction of a similar resource for her. <br />
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My immediate family. Last night, I was blessed to have a sleepover with my two darling granddaughters and one of my daughters. And tonight, all three of my children, my lovely daughter-in-law, and those granddaughters were at my house for dinner and Christmas present opening. Laughing and playing with them and my husband tonight, I was able to put aside the despair of the past few months and revel in the moments we shared. Tonight reminded me that, despite whatever else is going on in the world, I have children and grandchildren who are the epitome of love and understanding. And yes, I know, everyone thinks their children are wonderful. But my daughters and son truly are. I see how they interact with each other and with the world and it gives me hope. Hope that they will be difference that changes the world. Even if it is just the tiny part of the world around them.<br />
<br />
So, this Christmas, I wish you the peace that I have tonight. I hope that you will look around you and see the tiny, and hopefully large, joys of life. That you have that person or people in your life who are there to support you. And if, for whatever reason, you are living in darkness tonight due to whatever difficulty, that the coming year will bring you peace and joy in some form or fashion.<br />
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Merry Christmas to you all. And together, we will make a difference in the new year. Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-44023792432918695192016-10-22T06:20:00.000-05:002016-10-25T17:23:46.212-05:00The Legitimization of Hate<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It has been coming on slowly, but inexorably. The legitimization of hatred.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Hatred in the form of racism.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Hatred in the form of religious <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">intolerance</span>.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Hatred in the form of sexism.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Hatred in all its ugly forms. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It is clear that for far too many, the lessons I thought the world had learned of inclusiveness<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">—</span></span> love of one's neighbor despite his or her race, gende<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">r, or religion<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> — </span></span>have fallen by the wayside, or worse yet, never truly took root in people's hearts. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">What is particularly appalling to me about the resurgence of this racism, sexism and bigotry is that many of those who I see and hear expressing it are people of my generation. People, who lived through the Civil Rights movement and who saw, either first hand or in the media of the day, the injustice of segregation and racism of the 50s, 60s and 70s<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">. These same people</span> are now openly expressing views that are encouraging and espousing a return to the 'good old days'. Yes, the good old days. When <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">white men were in <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">full control<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> and anyone who was different<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> d<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">ue to race, religion<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">, <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">sexual preferences,<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> or <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">gender didn't dare to show it. <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">women kn<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">ew the<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">ir place and it wasn't in the workpla<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">ce. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>A time that to the<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">se discontented few, who <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">blame o<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">thers for their</span></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">unhappiness <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">and</span> life choices, </span></span></span>is the epitome of what America should be. "Make America Great Again!" they cry, envisioning no doubt a new idyllic America where things are again as they should be. Where straight, white, so<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">-called Christian </span>males rule, those who aren't <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">the priv<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">ileged f<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">ew</span></span></span> know their place, and conservative <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Christian</span> religions are the 'real' faith of the country<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">. Where those who 'don't belong' in <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">our</span> country due to<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> their <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">religion or race</span></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">are</span> rounded up and taken away.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There actually once was a place that sought to make that particular vision a reality. It was called Nazi Germany. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">To me, the greatest sin Donald Trump has committed during his presidential campaign is this legitimization of hate. <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">T</span>he true mortal sin of his campaign is the way he has unleashed and vocalized the hatred of the small minded on the country and the world. <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">O</span>nce it was <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">unacc<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">eptable,</span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">thanks in part to </span></span>'political correctness',<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">to</span></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">voice th<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">ese</span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">toxic</span> thoughts<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">. <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But </span></span></span>now<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">, </span>given permission by Trump to vocalize their hatred without apology or an attempt to hide it behind <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">a</span> routine unme<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">aning</span> protest<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">, one hears again the casual racism and intolerance of my yout<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">h coming out of the mo<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">u<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">ths of people who <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">should know better</span></span></span></span></span></span></span>. And Trump and his followers wrap that <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">hatred</span> in patriotism and the flag. <br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I</span>f you vote for anyone who openly espouses these views as openly and loudly as Mr. Trump has done, then you are <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">guilty of <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">contributing to the l<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">egitimization of</span></span> hatred too</span></span></span></span>. <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And y</span>ou do not get a pass because you happen to favor his proposed policies: economic, social, or international. <br />
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Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-83860227745798673342016-08-01T21:40:00.000-05:002017-03-12T09:49:28.845-05:00America's Bully<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I was bullied as a child. Starting in third grade when we moved to Kenedy, Texas until I left almost immediately after my high school graduation, I was bullied by my classmates. Over 50 years ago, when I met my tormentors for the first time, there was little to nothing done about bullying by teachers or the school administration. My mother, a fourth grade teacher at the school, did nothing but tell me to "Ignore them. If you react, they'll keep doing it because they want the reaction." Well, I did my <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">b</span>est for 10 years to ignore them. But the truth is that the verbal attacks and deliberate slights never stopped no matter what I did. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I tell you this because my experience factors in to why I loathe and fear Donald Trump and will do whatever it takes to prevent him from winning the presidential election this November. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I realize that many factors go into creating a bully, especially one of this caliber. I have no idea what was done to this man to make him this way, but to be honest at this point having read and listened to the unceasing vitriol, misogyny, racism, bigotry and belittling remarks he spews to anyone who dares to disagree with him, I find that I really don't care. Getting to the bottom of his issues is a job for a highly skilled mental health professional and will no doubt take years to unravel, much less remedy. What I do care about is what someone like him, so clearly unstable, with an inclination towards violence and out of touch with reality, will do to this country I love. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">To me it is very clear that my mother's advice from all those years ago cannot apply to Mr. Trump. We cannot ignore him and hope he will go away. Because as I <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">found out</span> the hard way, ignoring the bullies just gives them permission to continue their reigns of terror. I will never know if my childhood would have been better if I had stood up to the bullies and not let them define my youth. But I will not risk the future of my children and grandchildren being ruined by an unstable bully with a global arena of potential victims. I will speak up and stand up for what I think is right. </span></span><br />
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<br />Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-65322867932655805742015-12-18T11:20:00.002-06:002015-12-18T11:33:54.418-06:00All I want for Christmas<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yes, it's been a while. But I'm back again. And with a Christmas List of things I really, really want. Unfortunately, I have serious doubts about whether Santa Claus will be able to deliver on my list this year. But as my dear Uncle CC used to say, "You'll never know if you don't ask." So, I'm asking for:</span></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">1. A ban on media coverage of that billionaire idiot who is running for President. Yeah, him. That guy. Whose team should really confiscate his cell phone and shut down his twitter account. But failing that happening, I don't think it's too much to ask that the news media simply stop giving him the type of air play that keeps this idiot alive in the polls and makes him feel invincible. So, please. Stop. Stop filming him. Stop telling us what he's saying. Stop allowing him to encourage those who are supporting him to hate anyone that is different from them. Just walk away and don't give his hate and racism a forum. Because clearly all the coverage you're giving him, in a misguided attempt to show the world what an idiot he is, isn't working.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">2. America to be great. A big part of the Presidential campaign rhetoric seems to be focused on 'making America great again.' But based on what I'm hearing from those candidates focused on that issue, if we're looking to be great again, they are steering us in the wrong direction. To me, a great America is an America that doesn't discriminate against ANY person on the basis of religion, gender, race, or any other qualifier. A great America doesn't look for ways to remove rights from any group. A great America guarantees equal rights for all. A great America would not be the bully in the room, but the country who protects others from bullies and protects <i>all</i> people, even those who just happen to also belong to a religion that has members who distort the teachings of that religion to justify violence against others.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">3. A focus on better role models for young girls. C'mon. Do you really want your daughter to grow up to be the next Kardashian or 'real' housewife? Or do you want her to grow up and be known for her contributions to computer science, to technology, to literature, to math, to film, to medicine, to science, to diplomacy, to art, to drama, or any of the myriad professions available to her? </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">4. My fellow Texans to stop electing idiots. Like Greg Abbot. Like Dan Patrick. Like Ted Cruz. Ad nauseum.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">5. Every leader/pastor/reverand/iman/rabbi/man or woman of God who preaches hate of any type aimed at any other religion/group/belief system to stop it. Hate breeds hate. When you preach hate you are doing evil's work, not God's and I venture to predict that you will indeed someday get your just reward for assisting evil.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">6. Religion to get out of politics. Or to be specific, I think it's time that the Republican party stopped taking instructions from and catering to the conservative religious fanatics. Which I find extremely ironic since I can remember when JFK was running for president, how one of the GOP's main objections to him was their fear that since he was Catholic, he would be following orders from a religious leader (aka the Pope). I'd also like to remind people yet again that freedom of religion is just that. Freedom to worship in the faith of your choice without fear. Or not worship if that is your choice. This 'we're a Christian nation and so Christian beliefs take precedence over others in our political system' is a dangerous path to go down. Think Nazi Germany people.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Merry Christmas y'all.</span></span><br />
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Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-34694251856000711602014-12-31T10:15:00.001-06:002014-12-31T10:15:54.256-06:00A Moment of Grace<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Let's face it. 2014 was, for the most part, just awful for me. Given that I've cried enough, I'm not going to subject you to a look back to all that. I am going to list a few things I'm grateful for over the past year.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I'm thinner. Much thinner. Not as thin as I'd hoped I'd be by now, but that's okay. Especially as after I lost the weight, I kept it off. I restarted the diet this week and have a new goal to reach in 2015. I'm ready to get the rest of the weight off.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I'm three weeks away from being released from this boot and being allowed to drive again. I can't wait. But I must thank all those who helped me through this. From Larry, who has dealt not only with feeding and transporting me, to Michael, Sarah, Sara, and Emily who jumped in and helped with a wide array of tasks when I was first unable to do anything at the house, to our friends and family who brought us food, to the students at the school where I work who simply opened doors for me to wheel or hobble through. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The people at work. The events of this year have meant that I've had to work remotely on occasion and they were supportive through it all. Being able to work from various locales and with adjusted schedules helped me keep a bit of much needed normalcy in my life throughout everything that happened. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Our redone space in the house. Over the summer, I redid our entry hall, living and dining room completely. It was a project I had in my head for over a year and it's done now, aside from finding the perfect dining table and chairs. The finishing touch for me though are the new light fixtures which my sister Jane gave me for Christmas. I still can't believe she sent me my dream lighting for these rooms. It's beyond perfect for these rooms. And they wouldn't be sparkling in these rooms if Larry and my son Michael hadn't spent quite a bit of time installing them. Working on these rooms was therapy for me following the death of my sister MC and now that they are done, being in them continues to sooth me, giving me a peaceful, beautiful space to sit and read or sew or just think.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My granddaughters. Luci and Ellen are pure love. I hold them and cannot believe how lucky I am to have them in my life. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My husband. It's been a tough year and I am not an easy person to live with normally, much less when I am deeply unhappy as I have been for too long. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My sisters. All of them. Mary Claire taught me so much. And being part of a team with Julia and Jane, heartbreaking as our appointed task was, was life altering. I've always loved them. But that love is deepened now by our shared experience.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My children. Who continue to love me. I hope they know how much I love them.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-30620881991430724592014-11-01T14:51:00.000-05:002014-11-01T14:51:40.997-05:00A Three Month Sentence<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">More reason to hate 2014. Last Monday I went for the two week follow up visit with my surgeon. I was foolishly optimistic. I went in thinking that I could positive attitude myself through this. If I had a positive attitude, I could pull it all together and get my life back as early as Thanksgiving week. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">What a pathetic fool I am. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The good news is, the stitches came out and the xrays look great. The bad news is the truth told to me by the surgeon. Because I was told to not put any weight on the damn leg, I didn't move anything within the splint for those two weeks because I was afraid of messing something up. And as a result, the muscles/tendons/whatever in my ankle have tightened up and need help. As in 'aggressive' physical therapy three times a week for six weeks. Which I can't even start for another week and a half! And which I will have to take time off from work to do as the physical therapy facility's last appointment of the day is at 4:00 pm. I also won't be seeing my surgeon again for six weeks. During which time I am not to put any weight on the injured leg. At all. And then to add insult to my injury, I asked when I will be able to drive again, thinking 'the minute I can put weight on this foot again'. And I was wrong again. Best case scenario is three months and that's only if at three months I can put my full weight on the leg and have full flexibility in the leg/ankle will he clear me to drive. Three months during which I cannot drive myself anywhere in my mini cooper. Three months when I have to rely on someone (mainly my husband who does have a job of his own) to drive me literally everywhere. Work. Physical therapy. Doctor appointments. Stores. You name it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As I sat in the exam room taking it all in, I started to look around for something to hurl at the wall and break. Because I was so angry and frustrated. Luckily, there was nothing within reach. But I'm still angry and frustrated. I am used to being independent and doing everything for myself. I'm used to doing things for others, not having things done for me. And right now, there is so much I can't do. And it's not that I am not beyond grateful to everyone who has been helping me. I am beyond grateful. But I am having a very, very hard time getting past the frustration of being helpless. And afraid. Afraid of getting in a rush and falling again and making it worse. Afraid it will take even longer for me to get my life back. </span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-38767118548366766962014-10-24T20:47:00.002-05:002014-10-24T20:47:21.972-05:00An Expedition to Deepest, Darkest Borneo<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Or My Return to Work with a Broken Leg</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After being discharged from the hospital late on Tuesday night last week, I spent Wednesday and Thursday adjusting to being home and figuring out the basics of having a broken leg in this house. Family and neighbors fed us. Essential changes were made to make things a little easier for me, and I started to build up my strength. On Tuesday night I announced my goal of being at work by that Friday. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My husband refrained from asking, "Are you insane??" and did not make plans to spike my tea on Friday morning w/ an extra dose of the codeine based pain killer I was given. Instead he was a good sport and listened to my reasons for wanting to jump back in so soon. My reasons were simple and, I think, valid. On Friday, a meeting was scheduled with the marketing firm that has been examining and exploring the school where I work with the goal of providing us w/ new creative for our marketing efforts. This process has been a months long effort and Friday was the day the committee I am on was to see the design options they had created after all of this research, observation and input. As I will be one of those working with these new designs, I naturally wanted to be there for the unveiling. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Now, our technology department could have arranged for me to attend the meeting remotely. And normally, I'm the first to accept a technology solution to a problem, any problem. But in this case, I told my husband, I really wanted to be in the room to see it unfold and to actually witness the reactions of my coworkers. And to be a part of the moment. And he got it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So, we made our preparations. Thursday night, he became my shampooist, wheeling me into the kitchen and washing my hair as I stood on my good leg with my head bent over the sink. Then he wheeled me into position in front of our closet mirror so I could dry my hair. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Friday morning arrived. We had planned that we would shoot to arrive at the school a little before 9:45, which wold give us time to get me in, get him set up in my office for the day and get me into the conference room in time for the meeting. To do that, we'd need to be in the car by 9:15. So, we get up and he fixed me my tea and English muffin. I ate and took my meds and gave myself the shot I have to take as a result of this little debacle. We did a little dance getting ready. Normally, I leave before he has to get into the shower. This day was more than a bit different. This was the first time I'd worn makeup since the accident, so everything had to be brought to me and there was no room on my nightstand due to all the meds I was taking. Also, my hair was looking significantly worse since I had dried it the night before. So, he had to set up my flat iron and bring the wheelchair so I could see what I was doing in the closet mirror. Once we were finally both dressed and ready, it was time for my first trip out to the car since coming home. We gathered everything up we thought we might need. Pillows to elevate my leg in the back seat of the car. My laptop case. My purse. My meds for the day. A shawl to throw over my legs while sitting in the wheelchair in my skirt. His backpack with his computer and other essentials to work. My walker, in case I needed it instead of the wheelchair to get somewhere at work. We really didn't know what I would need to get around best. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We piled everything on top of my lap and on the side of my seat except the walker and he wheeled me into our entry hall, then went to back the car down the driveway to the sidewalk. Once back in the house, he got me out, not w/ a ramp but with what I considered to be a rather dubious assortment of random lumber from the garage arranged to 'step down' the wheelchair to the pavement from the threshold. My verdict was that while it was a slight improvement, I still wanted a ramp. But he got me to the car and I managed to get into the back seat, hoist myself across the seat to the other side and fastened in and my leg up on pillows while he fit the walker and wheelchair into the trunk. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Thirty minutes later we pulled into the gate at the school. After a bit of business w/ the security guards, including being told to put on my badge (it's still in my Mini Cooper), we parked and began the process of extracting me from the car and unloading the wheelchair w/ me and my stuff. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We finally got me and my stuff into the building and made our way to my office. After a few of the welcome back/what happened to you conversations, Larry settled me in the conference room for the meeting and headed off to do his own work in my office. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I am happy to say that I was right about going in for this meeting. It was so much better being there in person to see the work and the reactions of everyone. It wasn't easy, but as first days back to work after an injury like this go, it wasn't bad. I will report that we did not need the walker, but did need the pillows. I texted Larry a little after 2 hours in and asked him to bring me one to put under my elevated leg. He handled it smoothly, handing the pillow in through the door and was accomplished, I hope, with a minimum of fuss. After the meeting ended around 2 pm, I hung around to help to get some information to some of the others that they needed. Then we loaded up me in the wheelchair and headed out for home. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Since then, we have streamlined the process. So, it's not nearly as big a deal though it's still not exactly a breeze. It helps that I am regaining a lot of strength and stamina. I also admit that I probably pushed it on that Friday going back so soon, only six days after breaking my leg and having surgery. But I wouldn't have missed being in that room for that meeting. </span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-81717140741871254282014-10-22T20:09:00.000-05:002014-10-22T20:09:21.188-05:00An Unexpected Detour<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">One false step. Just one false step. And this is me right now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGMUmcrCrVfNnUVQU5t6YI7KDLdRxBNwaGbyE1hx2CSnr5EwT6kSAuSzvW3_rlTnu-iVIZik37WVjuR2rA4V4tjQgCN4LBO2PeioI22pi4jlslHpgkk3bM-6GRUxuC5y1gW8hK/s1600/Leg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGMUmcrCrVfNnUVQU5t6YI7KDLdRxBNwaGbyE1hx2CSnr5EwT6kSAuSzvW3_rlTnu-iVIZik37WVjuR2rA4V4tjQgCN4LBO2PeioI22pi4jlslHpgkk3bM-6GRUxuC5y1gW8hK/s1600/Leg.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Eight days ago, I was at a friend's house for a lovely evening filled with fabulous food, dear friends, and a lot of fun just sitting around talking to each other. Then, as I was headed out to our car, I stepped out of their gate and missed a step.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ending up on the ground in a heap with a right leg that was screaming with pain. As I seemed overall okay with no visible bruises, just in a bit of shock from the fall, my husband began to urge me to try to get up. So, I finally raised myself up on my hands and in doing so caught a good look at my lower right leg. "It's broken," I said. And everyone concurred when they looked at it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So, a long night followed which involved a ride in an ambulance to the Houston Med Center, hours in the ER in a treatment room waiting to be treated, including having two level one trauma cases right next to me on the other side of a screen in the treatment room (one made it, one didn't to my sorrow), admittance to the hospital in the wee hours of the morning, followed by surgery on my leg. In the days since, I've had evil physical therapists (who had my welfare at heart) trying to get me to hop up on a three inch tall platform using my walker and doing it without touching my broken leg to the ground. (I flatly refused to jump, finally telling them that we would get a ramp for the front door threshold.) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And now, about a week and a half later, I'm figuring this out somewhat. It has not been easy. The timing of this little accident has not been optimal (when is it?) and I have quite a bit of guilt over some things that I have not been able to do as a result of being out of commission for several days. I have another 5 to 7 weeks approximately to go. And even once I'm okayed to walk again, will almost certainly have to have physical therapy. But I'll cope. We'll cope actually, as this is really a family effort and also, to a certain extent, an effort that involves my friends and co-workers as well. For which I am profoundly grateful. </span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-76506058950509154502014-09-25T06:49:00.003-05:002014-09-25T08:19:09.478-05:00Forty Years Later...<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Forty years ago, in 1974, there was an extremely active movement in the United States to get the Equal Rights Amendment ratified so that it would become the law of the land. That "Equality of rights under the law shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of sex." There was a deadline looming for ratification by the states of this amendment and though I was just in high school, I was a fervent supporter of the effort. And I remember an argument I got into on the subject of equal pay for equal work with the guy who was my boyfriend back then. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Forty years later, the Equal Rights Amendment still has not become the law of the land. Despite numerous efforts, gender equality in the United States does not exist. It doesn't exist anywhere in the world. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Forty years later there are still people, like my ex boyfriend, who believe that women should not be given equal pay for equal work. (By the way, he still should be thankful that I opted to just order him out of the house rather than sew his mouth shut after he voiced that opinion. I was at Mom's sewing machine at the time and was tempted beyond measure to just take care of his idiocy with a few stitches.)</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Earlier this week, the UN launched an new campaign called He For She. It's aimed at gaining gender equality throughout the world for once and for all. Because that's really what equal rights is all about. It's not just about women having the same rights as men. It's about everyone having the same rights. It's about men being able to do what they need to do for their families, for their children, without being considered 'unmanly'. It is about joining together and finally, finally, not discriminating against anyone because they are male or female. To have the same rights no matter if you are male or female. We must change the stereotypes that we define men and women by and allow each man and woman to be equal under the law. Equal access to family leave. Equal access to pay. Equal in every way. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Earlier this week, I shared a link to a video of Emma Watson making an impassioned plea at the UN for this initiative to my facebook page. Looking at my recent posts, photos of a carrot cake I baked received 15 more 'likes' than my post about this critical issue. Am I annoyed? Hell yes. This is literally a life and death issue for women around the world. Women and young girls are actively being attacked for trying to get an education in certain areas of the world. What is wrong with us when a damn cake gets more attention than an issue of human rights? We are talking about the right to vote. The right to be paid a fair and living wage. The right to an education. The right to be viewed as a human being who has value and to not have that value denigrated because of what sex you just happen to be. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Yes, I'm sure that those of you who are conservative and religious tend to think 'equal rights = feminism = abortion rights.' And you are so wrong if you think that is what this campaign is about. Because it is not. It is about treating EVERYONE with respect no matter if they are male or female and giving everyone the right to make decisions about their lives. So, I'm asking that you go to the website for this initiative and make a commitment to support this effort. Educate yourself about what this campaign is actually about. Educate yourself about the truth of what women are subjected to in terms of acts of violence against women, the lack of educational opportunities for women, the gap in pay for women and all the other issues this initiative is about. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It is time to stop the war of the sexes and create a world where our sons and daughters will treat each other with respect. No matter where they live. This is the world I want for my son, my daughters, my daughter-in-law, and my grandchildren. Give it to them and to your children and grandchildren. Give it to the world. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Here's the link: <a href="http://www.heforshe.org/">http://www.heforshe.org/</a></span></span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-14931874811272188122014-09-02T21:16:00.001-05:002014-09-02T21:16:57.043-05:00Here I go again…<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Note: Yes, I’m sounding off again. If you are a conservative Christian who still thinks our current president is a secret Muslim and you vote based on whom you think is the most Christian choice, then you probably won’t like what I’m saying here. On the other hand, that’s exactly why I think you need to read this today. So no alternative websites offered to you today. Just keep reading. I can pretty much guarantee that God wants you to know this.</i> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I have finally reached my breaking point with posts on social media about how we need a president who believes in God in the White House, or about the 'need' to bring back God/Christian values/Jesus to America. All the while extolling the joy that will come of living in a country that has freedom of religion as long as that religion is nominally Christian. <br /><br />Enough people. Let’s look at a couple of facts:</span></span><br />
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<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Adolf Hitler based his genocide aimed at the Jews on his Christian (actually Catholic) upbringing and education. One article I read tonight on this said that the German Social Christian movement, which influenced Hitler’s beliefs strongly resembles the Christian Right movement in America (<a href="http://www.nobeliefs.com/hitler.htm">http://www.nobeliefs.com/hitler.htm</a>). So, this man, raised as a Catholic, who wanted to be a priest, committed one of the most heinous acts of genocide in history aided and abetted by the Christians of his country. Who joined in all in the name of religion. </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">America may have been founded on Christian values, but by virtue of the fact that our constitution does guarantee freedom of religion, that means in actuality America really is not a country of any specific religious belief. Or it should not be by the law of the land. </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Fanatics exist in virtually every religion out there. Evil exists. It is not exclusive to any one religion. In every religion, including Christianity, there are those who will turn the teachings of that religion to their own evil purposes. Christianity does not hold the franchise on virtue and goodness. Neither does any other religion.</span></span> </li>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Going on from there, a few personal observations: </span></span><br />
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<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">While I am myself a Catholic, I respect all faiths and prefer to not stereotype those of different beliefs based on the lunatic fringe element of their faith. And there are lunatic fringe elements in every single faith that exists. </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I also firmly believe that those who feel God will reward them with the joys of heaven for killing others in His Name have a big, hot surprise awaiting them. Since I was taught in my religion classes that the fifth commandment prohibition against taking life also covers actively (or passively) hating another human being, hating any one simply because they are a Jew, Muslim, Catholic, Atheist, Southern Baptist or what have you is therefore a mortal sin. </span></span></li>
</ul>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So, have you figured out where I’m going with this yet or do I have to spell it out for you? Just in case…here’s the deal:<br /><br />As I see it, posting anything or saying anything that implies in any way shape or form that any religion or belief system is the ‘right’ religion or belief and that other religions or beliefs are lesser or wrong and that their believers should be disenfranchised or eliminated from the face of the earth is an act of hatred, and therefore a mortal sin. If you are guilty of this, stop right now and sin no more. Then, and only then, will the world (and America) be a better place.<br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Disclaimer: No, I’m not perfect or claiming to be perfect. I’m actually quite a bit less than perfect. And I freely admit it. But I do have a fairly well developed worldview of good and evil. And right now I’m seeing way too much evil in how people are using religions of all types to justify hatred on a global scale. And that worries me greatly. Hence this: my version of a wake-up call.</span></span></span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-11680606632624619922014-08-27T06:39:00.000-05:002014-08-27T06:39:38.398-05:00Five Months Later<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Today is my sister Mary Claire’s birthday. She would have been 56 years old today. <br /><br />I wish beyond all things that she was here, so that I could bake her a cake like I did last year and celebrate with her. I would give anything to see her sitting on my couch in the den and holding her newest great niece, Ellen.<br /><br />But she is not here. Instead I have spent the last five months mourning my little sister and coming to grips with everything that has happened since she told me about the lump near her collarbone. <br /><br />I miss her every single day. I think about her every single day. <br /><br />I have second-guessed every single decision we made about her treatment. And come to the conclusion again and again that we did do everything we could. <br /><br />And I have relived the week and half while we cared for her in hospice over and over.<br /><br />Ultimately, I have had to make my peace with not only what we did, but with what how it all ended. <br /><br />This experience has changed me in ways I never expected. I am no stranger to losing those I love to death. I watched my father die in front of me when I was just seven years old. I lost five relatives between the ages of six and fifteen. And because of the experience of watching my father die suddenly of a heart attack, I developed a deep-seated fear of death that has haunted me my entire life. Until now.<br /><br />Watching Mary Claire fight the inevitable those last weeks changed my perspective forever. She fought so hard for every moment, even though at the end the moments she was fighting for were moments where she was incapable of truly living. When I think back over what happened, the only thing I would change is that I would no longer deny the truth of what was happening to her. <br /><br />By this, I do not mean that I would not have fought for her as hard as I did over those two years after we got her into M.D. Anderson. I would. Absolutely. But once we had no further options, I wish beyond everything that I had had the courage that my sisters Julia and Jane had to face the truth and the courage they had to tell Mary Claire the truth about what was going to happen. And if I am ever in Mary Claire’s situation, I hope that I have Julia and Jane there to tell me the truth. I promise I will believe you two.<br /><br />I love you forever Mary Claire. <br /><br />And I love you forever Julia and Jane. </span></span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-8882251074567091752014-08-26T21:09:00.000-05:002014-08-26T21:09:45.390-05:00Goodbye <i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The eleventh post in my series on my sister, Mary Claire. </span></span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><b>Wednesday, March 26, 2014</b></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">At 9:30 tonight, my little sister, Mary Claire Chesnutt Luce, died. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Only memories remain. Along with anger. Sadness. And relief. </span></span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-43639219939230932412014-08-25T20:57:00.003-05:002014-08-25T20:59:36.702-05:00A Prayer for the Dying. <style>
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</style><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>The tenth installment in my series on taking care of Mary Claire while she was in hospice care.</i><b><i> </i></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b><i>Tuesday, March 25, 2014</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">Another day and Mary Claire still hangs on to life.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">She has not eaten anything since last Thursday night.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">For the past three days, the only thing she has taken by
mouth is liquid morphine and an anti-anxiety med which we dissolve in the
morphine.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">Watching my beloved sister die a fraction of an inch at a time has been a nightmare.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">When this all started, my only goal was to save my sister.
Having now faced the reality that there will be no miracle for her, no cure for
her, no way for her to live a full and loving life, I only want her to go and to be at peace. It
is the most painful realization I have ever had to deal with. But it is the
truth. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span></span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-37404706928567295542014-08-24T11:14:00.001-05:002014-08-24T11:15:27.122-05:00Every Day<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>The ninth installment in my series about my sister Mary Claire. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><b>Monday, March 24, 2014</b></i><br />The first thing we do in the morning, when Jane, Julia and I wake up, is head to MC’s room to see how the night went and if there were any changes. At this point, there really aren't any changes and the few changes we see are very subtle. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">Mary Claire is still hanging on to life. The hospice people say this could be because she is waiting for someone. Our mom perhaps, since everyone else has already been here. But we cannot bring Mom in to see MC with the way that MC is now. Perhaps she is simply scared to die. We don’t know. What we do know is that it hurts to see her this way. Even Mike, who we thought would never feel this way, seems to have reached that point. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">And so we wait. Julia has all the funeral arrangements made. She’s picked out a plot at the local cemetery in Rockport and bought it for Mary Claire. She’s talked to the funeral home. She’s also made arrangements with a local restaurant that was a favorite of MC and Mike for a reception after the funeral Mass. Jane is writing her obituary. I am picking out the music and I have my children working on picking out the readings for the funeral Mass. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">Jane and I have our system down now. Since we are giving Mary Claire the maximum dose of morphine every hour now, we are taking alternate days to be in charge of giving her medicine. Which is essential, as I’ve discovered it really is difficult emotionally giving her this much morphine every hour. One side fact: when we open a new bottle of morphine, we tint it with blue food coloring so that we can tell if the dose begins to run out of her mouth when we give it to her. </span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-81381510169504726562014-08-21T20:09:00.001-05:002014-08-27T11:29:19.410-05:00A Cry for Help<style>
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</style><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The eighth installment in my series about taking care of my sister Mary Claire in hospice.</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i><b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Sunday, March 23, 2014</span></b></i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">Jane and I were woken up at about 4:00-4:30 this morning by
Connie, the night nurse. MC was calling for me and refusing to let Connie give
her the liquid morphine. We immediately went to her and managed to persuade MC
to take the morphine. But she kept saying “Help me. Help me.” And it broke my heart
because I didn’t know what to do. All I know to do is to give her medicine to
control the pain. And I felt that I was failing her. So, I finally just held
her and told her she could go. That it would be all right. That I would be
okay. And we would take care of Mom. And that Mike would be okay. And that
everybody would be okay. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">I told her to go. That Daddy would be waiting for her.
And it would be okay. And at some point, she calmed down and started saying,
“Okay.” Over and over. </span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">I stayed with her until morning. My sweet little sister, I
hope I am right. That it will be okay.</span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-20003940544212641382014-08-19T21:09:00.002-05:002014-08-19T21:30:36.855-05:00She would have loved this...<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Note: Fair warning to my conservative friends/readers. Yes, I'm going to say things that will potentially upset you. So, if you really can't stand me using my freedom of speech, go somewhere else today. I recommend Molly Wizenberg's blog<a href="http://orangette.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"> Orangette</a>. No politics there: Just joy in the creating of good food that feeds her family and her friends. On the other hand, if you can stand just a little bit of political commentary (really there won't be much) stick around and then go read Molly's wonderful words. Because this is really not so much about slamming Texas' Republican governor as it is about someone I loved.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">On Friday a federal prosecutor in Austin indicted Texas Governor Rick Perry on two felony counts of abuse of power. Today he showed up at the Travis County courthouse to turn himself in and have his mug shot taken. I'm not going to get into whether the charges against Perry are baseless or natter on about how I certainly hope they aren't baseless. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">No. What struck me today was how happy my best friend Sara would have been over this turn of events. She would have been ecstatic. And we would have been emailing each other about it and speculating hopefully about Perry's hope of another presidential run being done in by this indictment. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">Sara was the real deal when it came to being a liberal Democrat, becoming more and more zealous as the years went by. The standard expectation being that most of us are fervid liberals when we are young, turning more conservative with the passing years. Sara was pretty much the opposite of that. But then she never did do anything that was expected of her. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">Today I would have shared with her the fact that my daughter, her namesake, took a afternoon break to walk down to the courthouse and watch Perry make his 'walk of shame' in to turn himself in. I would have shared the video and photo my daughter Sara shot. And Sara Gray would have loved it all. She would have relaxed a tiny bit because she saw hope for Texas in this turn of events. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">Instead, I'm hoping that she's seeing this now and smiling over the fact that Rick Perry now has a mug shot and is racking up some big lawyer bills. And that he is maybe, just maybe, losing some sleep at night over this. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">It was a good day in Texas today Sara. I wish you were here. </span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-18613449610716368022014-08-12T22:04:00.003-05:002014-08-12T22:08:30.000-05:00An Act of Faith<style>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The seventh installment in my continuing series on taking care of my sister Mary Claire while she was dying.</span></i></span><b><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span></i></span></b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Saturday, March 22, 2014</span></i></span></b></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">One thing I’ve found out this week is that if I’m alone, I
break down. And I can’t break down. Even though Mary Claire is now not as aware
as she was, I need to show her that I’m okay. So, I have to stay strong and not
be walking around with red eyes from crying. </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">This morning, Fr. Rey came and administered the sacrament of
Extreme Unction. Also known as the anointing of the sick or Last Rites. When he
arrived, I pretty much read him the riot act. As in, “We need to do this, but I
do not want MC to be upset by it.” Because I know she is afraid. Hell, I’m
afraid. She is dying. And there is nothing I can do to stop it. </span>
</div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">She did become upset. But then, amazingly she became calm at
the end. I’ve heard of this and this is
not the first time I’ve seen this sacrament administered. But I was surprised
by it’s effect on her. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">I’m so tired. But I need to see this through. I need to see her through this. </span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-36610888514379903232014-07-19T19:54:00.002-05:002014-08-27T11:26:45.484-05:00Taking to Her Bed<style>
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</style><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>The sixth installment in my series about taking care of my sister Mary Claire in hospice.</i> </span></span><br />
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<i><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Friday, March 21, 2014</span></span></b></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mary Claire is now unable to get out of bed. Little did I
know when I put her to bed last night that we had seen the last day she would
be mobile. The hospice nurse told us today that we should not move her now.
She’s not capable of walking. She’s also having difficulty swallowing her
pills. After trying mixing the crushed pills in grape jelly and that not
working as well as I had hoped, I tried chocolate whipped cream. Success! She
loved it. The only caution is that you simply cannot lick any that accidentally
gets on your fingers. I almost did that automatically (I love chocolate), but
stopped myself just in time. </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span></span>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Today I contacted our extended family and a few family friends
to let them know the state of affairs here after a ‘friend’ of MC’s went on
Facebook and announced that she only had two weeks to live. I was not happy
when I woke up this morning and saw that post. But Julia immediately reached
out to someone she knows who promptly dealt with the issue. Gratefully, MC is
now past the point where she can use her phone to check Facebook. We have
removed the iPhone from her room and have with us though just in case. </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span></span>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Jane arrived early this evening. Though MC had asked me today when
she was coming, MC had forgotten Jane was coming until Jane went into her room. Which led to a funny Chesnutt sister moment: Jane
was explaining to Mary Claire that she would have been
here sooner, but that she had been sick with a cold and fever and knew that
Julia wouldn’t let her in the door while she was sick. A long pause, then MC
said, “Bitch.” And yes. We loved it. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It is a relief having Jane here. I had been worried about her getting here in time. And together the three of us
will see MC and each other through this. Originally my plan had been to go
home once Jane got here and return in a week. But it is very clear that I
cannot go. Both for Mary Claire’s sake and for mine. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span></span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-11076505835699470782014-06-05T19:57:00.001-05:002014-06-05T20:00:57.215-05:00How Do You Say Goodbye?<style>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The fifth installment in my series on taking care of Mary Claire in hospice earlier this year.</span></i><b><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Thursday, March 20, 2014</span></i></b><br />Mary Claire continues to weaken. We can all see it. She’s
determined to do things on her own, but this morning, when I fixed her
breakfast (chocolate milk and malt o’ meal) she couldn’t feed herself. She was
just too shaky. She got frustrated and wouldn’t eat any more. Absolutely
refused to let me help her. We are worried because she doesn’t realize that she
can’t do things by herself anymore and very concerned that she will wheel
herself too close to the stairs or try to stand up by herself and fall. So, we
kept a close eye on her. Much to her annoyance, I’m sure. She also got upset
when Julia helped her put her makeup on. It hurts MC to see her face in the
mirror, which is so thin, and to see the swelling she has in her lower body. She
can’t move by herself and she’s not herself. And all she wants is to be
‘normal’ again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">Today really started the goodbyes. Family is beginning to
come in. Clark came in this morning early and when MC saw him, she called his
name and just clung to him when he hugged her. She was so happy he was here. My daughter Emily came in for a
quick overnight trip, and a few friends stopped by. Mom was also told today
about what is happening. She is stunned and heartbroken. I finally saw her this
evening. Julia called me to come join her at a restaurant, where she had taken
Mom and our friends from home to get me out of the house. Amid the laughter and talk, much about old times,
Mom suddenly became quiet and teary. It’s a shock, because we tried to protect Mom from the worst of this. And I have no idea if that was the right or wrong thing to do. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">After everyone else had
gone, Julia and I stayed. And talked. And cried. And on the topic of the right or wrong things to do, we agreed that no matter
with what has happened so far and with what happens in the next few days, there
will be no second guessing, no guilt, no recriminations. And we told Clark that
when he and his wife came and joined us. This loss is going to tear us apart in
so many ways. We cannot tear each other apart during or afterwards. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">One bright spot in this day. The weather finally was just
warm enough with no wind to allow MC to sit outside on the deck. We got her out
there and just sat and visited while music played on an iPad. It wasn’t long,
but I’m so happy that we had that moment with MC.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">The low spot: When I was getting MC ready for bed, much
earlier than her usual time at her request, she asked me, “Why can’t I remember
anything?” And my heart broke again.</span></div>
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</span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-63860976214829676732014-05-11T21:53:00.001-05:002014-08-27T11:27:50.655-05:00<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After a brief break, I'm continuing the posts I wrote while taking care of my late sister Mary Claire in hospice. This is the fourth installment.</span></span></i><br />
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</style><i><b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Wednesday, March 19, 2014</span></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Today we made memories Mary Claire won’t be here to
remember. Mary Claire’s friend Sharon
showed up at 11:00 am today with her arms full of crafting supplies, followed
by my niece Ashley with more supplies. We dumped it all on the kitchen table
and proceeded to have a major decoupage party, using scrapbook paper, mod
podge, and paint. Mary Claire, Ashley and Sharon worked on birdhouses and I
opted to paint and decoupage a clay pot. It was a major success and made MC so
happy. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So that’s what I am going to say about today. Mary Claire
was happy because we had a craft party. And
I will be here to remember. As will Sharon. And Mike. We even got MC out for a
while on the deck. It was a bit chilly, but it was such a beautiful day. We wheeled
her outside and Ashley had music playing on her iPad.And Mary Claire was happy. She had Mike with her. And she had her best friend from childhood with her. </span></span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-44944259774806743802014-04-13T16:23:00.002-05:002014-04-13T16:23:35.484-05:00Figuring out the unknown…<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><b>Tuesday, March 18, 2014</b></i><br />Last night I found myself looking up end stage metastatic urothelial bladder cancer online. There is not a whole lot of information available on what happens when a patient goes home to die, but what is available, fits with what we are seeing with Mary Claire. Her legs are swollen with the lymphedema and her abdomen is experiencing swelling as well. There is some blood in her urine. And she’s becoming more confused. At one point yesterday, she noticed the scars on one knee that are from when she had surgery back when I was in college. She asked what they were and I told her. Then she said, the surgery wasn’t on that knee, it was on the other knee. She is also sleeping more. I am hoping that eventually she will just drift off to sleep and simply go peacefully from there. <br /><br />It is so hard to know what to do. I admit I have a tendency to want to shield her from the reality of this end that is coming. Despite being the ‘official’ Catholic among the siblings, I have a harder time putting my faith in a glorious afterlife. Maybe it’s the residual effects of being taught by a nun who believed in scaring 2nd graders into good behavior via rather vivid filmstrips of a fiery afterlife and the implication that we kids would be lucky to get off with purgatory. (All of which she did right after my father dropped dead in front of me when I was in 1st grade. Not exactly what I needed at that point in my life.) At any rate, having spent over 20 years of my life being utterly terrified by the thought of dying, I'm not sure I'm ready to help my sister confront her end. Julia on the other hand, believes in a glorious heaven enough for the both of us. I'm amazed by the depth and strength of her faith. <br /><br />We are noticing other differences in Mary Claire. As I said, she was much, much more confused today. We would be talking with her and she’d just stare off into space and not respond. This morning I went to shower and when I got out and checked on her, she was lying on the couch, where we had left her, with her cell phone up to her ear. She had fallen asleep while talking to her husband Mike, who came back this evening and was, I think, a bit shocked at the difference in her since he left on Sunday. She's also having trouble feeding herself. She had issues getting the spoon to her mouth and kept dropping food. And it takes longer for her to take her pills. When we got here on Saturday, she'd pop them into her mouth easily. Today, I had to put each individual pill in her hand, then she would slowly raise her hand to her mouth, barely get the pill in, then take a sip of water. <br /><br />So, we are afraid that the end is nearer than we originally thought. She does still know us. Our brother Clark and his wife are coming in tomorrow night instead of Thursday night. Jane is coming in Friday instead of Sunday. And I am beginning to see that I may be here still next week, even after Jane comes in. I know Larry is worried about me missing work next week. But I just can't bear to think of leaving MC. And I do have quite a lot of sick time that I can use if needed.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />In one of Diana Gabaldon’s books, the main character talks about the ‘…heartrending and necessary task of helping a man to die.’ <br /><br />That is the business I am engaged in now. Only it is my sister who is dying. And it is breaking my heart. </span></span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-55057976756526170252014-04-10T22:04:00.000-05:002014-04-10T22:04:15.934-05:00Best Laid Plans<i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">This is the second installment in a series of posts I wrote while taking care of my late sister Mary Claire Luce when she was in hospice in March.</span></span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>Monday, March 17, 2014</b> </span></span></i><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Jane, Mary Claire, Julia and I were supposed to be in New Orleans today. <br /><br />A couple of months ago my sister Jane had come up with the idea of all four sisters meeting in New Orleans. It was a good choice, as New Orleans would have something for our many different interests: shopping, museums, antiquing, great food, and gambling. It was also a convenient place to fly into </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">for all of us</span></span>. Mary Claire and I were on board from the start. Mary Claire called Julia and convinced her that she could come, despite the trips being scheduled during part of one of the busiest weeks of the year for Julia's store on the coast of Texas. Once we had all committed to the plan, Jane had flown into action and made reservations at the Windsor Court Hotel near the French Quarter and figured out how we could arrive at more or less the same time at the airport from three different cities. Tonight we had reservations at R’evolution for dinner. <br /><br />It is the trip that will never happen. We are on a different journey now. <br /><br />The truth is, we cancelled the New Orleans trip a few weeks ago, before we knew that Mary Claire would be going into hospice. The swelling in MC’s right leg had gotten worse in January, so we had requested a return to lymphedema therapy at MDA. During one of the sessions, MC mentioned the plans for our trip and was told by the physical therapist that a flight, even a short one from Houston to New Orleans, was a bad idea for someone with her type of lymphedema. We already had doubts about the trip with Mary Claire’s increasing limited mobility and our worries about what we would do if she had a crisis when we were there. The therapist’s pronouncement made it official. We scuttled the plan for NOLA and decided to go to Plan B. We would all hang out together in Rockport or in Port Aransas during those days. We had already blocked out the time, we just changed to location to one that didn't require MC get on a plane and would enable us to get her to M.D. Anderson easily if a problem arose. <br /><br />So, Mary Claire, Julia and I are in Rockport now. But instead of sitting in Julia’s newly installed hot tub and pool relaxing together, we are dealing with the very new reality of providing hospice care to MC. <br /><br />A few facts about in-home hospice care: There is no ‘round the clock’ nursing care provided by the hospice service. The patient’s family provides the actual round the clock care. Yes, the hospice service is available 24 hours a day, but that is via phone. You call the main number and the nurse assigned to your loved one calls you back to advise you. If the issue is one that requires them they will come out, but at this point in time, we are scheduled to see the hospice nurse every other day. We also have a nurse’s aide who is assigned to Mary Claire who will come in Monday, Wednesday and Friday to help bathe MC and do other tasks for us such as change the bed linens, etc. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I don’t
know how a person who is the sole caretaker of a patient who is in home
hospice care does it. It is truly a 24-hour a day job, which requires a
variety of skills: Organization, communication, and basic nursing
skills. As it turns out, Julia and I have divided the tasks
automatically. She is a take charge organizational genius, keeping on
top of what is needed and dealing decisively with any issues that come
up. I do the physical nursing including keeping track of Mary Claire's
medications. And it works. Beautifully.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />We are fortunate in that Julia and Jane both have financial resources that have enabled them to hire a lovely woman, Connie, who is staying with us at night, allowing us to sleep and get some rest. Julia had originally interviewed Connie as a possible nighttime care person for our mom, who is on the verge of needing round the clock care/supervision. But then Mary Claire reached this crisis point. So Connie comes at night to allow us to sleep. Not that sleep necessarily comes easily. But I am not taking anything to help me sleep because I want/need to be available if an issue comes up. <br /><br />In between taking care of Mary Claire today, I worked today on setting up a remote office. Since there was no wireless network here at the house, my niece Ashley called the local network tech guys who came over and set up a wireless network for me here at the house. And I contacted the tech department at the school where I work to overnight the backup drive I have the majority of the photos and graphics I will need to get work done from Julia’s kitchen table. I am fully aware of how lucky I am to be able to work remotely and be supported by my bosses in this situation. Because right now, leaving Mary Claire is not an option. She needs help with almost everything. <br /><br />We are noticing subtle changes in Mary Claire today. Signs that she is weakening faster than we expected. It worries us and we are concerned about when Jane should get here. Julia has called Clark again and asked him to take some time off this week so he can be here by Thursday. My children are also making plans to come see Mary Claire. They cannot bear to not see her again. It’s a bit of a logistical issue, figuring out who is coming when and where to put them, but I work it out with them. I know how very much they love her. But I fret internally about MC ‘realizing’ that everyone is coming to say goodbye to her, knowing all the while that deep down, she knows. <br /><br />One reason I know that is that today, MC’s main doctor from MDA called her to see how she was doing. I filled him in on what was happening with her while the nurse’s aide finished dressing her after her bath. Then I turned the phone over to MC, who told Dr. Zinner about how beautiful and peaceful it is here. And how happy she is to be here with the water and the birds and the sky. MC tells Dr. Zinner he must come down to Rockport as she is sure he needs a break. She tells him he can drink wine and Julia and Steve will take him on a canal cruise on their boat. We laugh later telling Julia about how MC has invited Dr. Zinner to come for ‘dinner and a boat ride.’ But not once during that conversation did MC mention getting better and coming back to Zinner for treatment. Not once. </span></span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-30740715827870180312014-04-08T21:03:00.001-05:002014-04-10T21:56:49.799-05:00The End of the Story<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>My younger sister, Mary Claire Chesnutt Luce died on Wednesday, March 26, 2014 at the age of 55 after a valiant fight against urethral cancer. While taking care of her for the last week and half of her life, I wrote about the experience of caring for her in hospice. I will be posting what I wrote over the next few weeks as part of a small series about the experience. It is part of my mourning process and I hope those of you who read my blog will understand why I need to tell this story. </i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b><i>Sunday, March 16, 2014 </i></b><br />At some point in time, all of our stories will come to an end. This week my siblings and I began watching our beloved sister Mary Claire’s story reach that final chapter. After a long, brave struggle, she has exhausted her treatment options at MD Anderson (MDA) and we have placed her in hospice care. <br /><br />Yesterday afternoon, I walked out of MDA for what will almost certainly be the last time and followed Mary Claire and her husband Mike down to Rockport, Texas where we have installed her in a room at our sister Julia’s house. Julia’s house is a beautiful place to be and once we determined that when Mary Claire entered hospice, she would no longer be a patient at MDA, we saw no reason for her to stay in Houston. So, we have brought her here. Where she can look out on the water and see the sky. And be surrounded by all of us who love her. <br /><br />For me this is about finishing the journey I started with MC over two years ago in December of 2011, when at our family Christmas gathering, she pulled me aside and told me about a lump she had found near her collarbone over Thanksgiving. At the time, she (and I) thought that the most likely diagnosis was going to be lymphoma. Not great, but treatable. Instead, the diagnosis was Stage IV urethral cancer, which had spread to her lymph nodes and various other spots. Urethral cancer and other cancers of the bladder are not easily treated, especially once they have spread. There are limited drug and drug combinations that will reduce the tumors and the chances of her going into a full remission were slim to none. In fact, her original prognosis was 5 to 6 months without treatment and 15 to 18 with treatment. <br /><br />We were lucky, if you can call having her with us for just over two years instead of 18 months lucky. We had an additional Christmas with her that we did not expect to have. And I was blessed with truly getting to know this sister of mine. Taking care of her has been a joy and a privilege. <br /><br />Today, Mary Claire has slept quite a lot, a reaction from the very long day we had yesterday between arranging the discharge from the hospital, the 3-hour drive to Rockport, and the meeting with the hospice team when she arrived. A meeting where she signed a do not </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="st">resuscitate</span> (DNR) order. A document that hospice services require. One can gloss over the facts a little bit: about a third of patients who go into hospice care will leave hospice care to continue treatment, but the reality is if you go into hospice care, you are acknowledging that you most likely will die within six months or sooner. <br /><br />One of the most emotionally tearing facets of this is that her husband Mike still thinks that Mary Claire will somehow overcome all that is now wrong and be able to leave hospice care and resume treatment at M.D. Anderson. He cannot let her go. And while we are fairly certain that Mary Claire does know that this is the end it hasn’t been clearly said yet. My sister Julia took Mike aside today and told him, “Mike, you have to know this is it.” She urged him to change his plans to go home for a few days to take care of things there so that he would not miss out on any of the good days Mary Claire still has, but he went anyway. <br /> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We have called our brother Clark to urge him to come down to see her sooner rather than later. Our sister Jane, who was with us in Houston at MDA this past week, is back home and trying to decide when she will return to Texas. Complicating matters for her is that she has come down with a nasty cold. Does she come sooner and potentially risk shortening Mary Claire's life by exposing her to an infection? Or does she wait and risk possibly never having Mary Claire recognize her again? And we have yet to figure out what to tell our 92-year-old mother. She lives here in Rockport and I have yet to see her. Which is quite strange for me as before this, I've stayed at my Julia's house just once before. I am the one who always stays with Mom when I come down here. Quite honestly, I’m more worried about how telling our mother will affect Julia. I worry right now about Julia as much as I worry about Mary Claire. And I need to figure out how to take care of all these people (my mother syndrome) and work remotely so I can spend the maximum amount of time with Mary Claire as her life draws to an end. At this point, it could be a two weeks, a month, two months or more. We simply do not know.</span></span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31152585.post-18038818143036902462014-02-12T21:17:00.002-06:002014-02-12T21:47:58.197-06:00Now that I’m back…<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And back after such a long period of silence, I feel that I should offer a brief snapshot of various and sundry things that have happened over the past year. So, let’s catch up. And yes, for my conservative friends, I’m probably going to say a few things to upset you. So, y’all are excused. If you need something else to do, go check the Olympic medal count. Or go watch the curling coverage. (Or just skip the first three items.)</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Here goes:<br /><br />• I’m still not eating Chick fil a. Don’t miss it. At all. <br /><br />• His Holy Hairness (Texas Governor Rick Perry) tried to run for President, made a damn fool of himself while on the campaign trail, dropped out of the race, then much to my delight and wonder, decided he would finally do what is best for Texas and not run for governor again. <br /><br />• Pope Benedict decided he had had enough of people like me complaining about what he didn’t do to protect innocent children from predatory priests and decided to step down saying he was too tired to go on. (Yes, that would be my personal theory on why he quit the job.) Much to my surprise and delight, the College of Cardinals decided to elect a Pope who I actually like! Miracles do happen and I love that Pope Francis is shaking up the Vatican by insisting that those pampered clerics in the Curia and elsewhere stop living like kings and start serving the poor. <br /><br />• My daughter Emily graduated from the University of St. Edward’s Magna Cum Laude. She was also named a Presidential Award recipient. Which means that if you are in the St. Ed’s student center anytime until the end of April or so, you can take a look at a picture of her w/ her bio and an account of just why my darling child merited this honor. Am I proud? Why yes. I am.<br /><br />• My sister Mary Claire and I went up to Connecticut last summer and visited out sister Jane together. First time MC and I had ever taken a trip out of state together. Or taken a trip together at all. We all had a blast and topped off our trip by meeting up with our sister Julia in NYC for lunch the day we left for home. How cool is that?<br /><br />• My other daughter Sara, after definitely paying some dues by working at a small grocery store in Austin, was rewarded for her great attitude at said job by one of her customers telling her she was going to recommend that Sara be her replacement at the job the customer was leaving. Said job being a legal assistant to a local Austin attorney, that paid full salary and has fabulous benefits: Proof that being nice to people, even when you are having a rotten day, will be rewarded. And yes, I am proud of her. She had her dream of working and living in Austin and she did what it took to make it happen. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />• My
son Michael is going to grad school, pursuing his masters in school
administration. And he’s doing extremely well. All while teaching 4th
grade English, working on the side when he can, and being a husband and
father, and father to be. (Yes, he and his wife have another child on
the way! Yippee!) Am I proud of him and them? Well, yes. I am. </span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />• After what seems like over a year of growing out my hair, while claiming I was ‘rocking the ombre look' (I wasn't), I finally got my hair long enough to cut off the old dead dyed stuff and go completely gray. Am I happy with it? Yes. Extremely so. It’s great no longer having to touch up the damn roots and my hair is in the best condition it’s been in for years and years. Basically ever since I started dying it to hide the gray. Quite honestly, I should have done this ages ago. So, go ahead. Embrace the gray people. It’s fabulous. <br /><br />I think that covers all the major events since I left off. So onward y’all. I'll be back soon.</span></span>Rachel Chesnutt Blasdellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768727213273784984noreply@blogger.com0