Author Archives: Susan

About Susan

I am a retired teacher with a husband, three adult sons, and a German shepherd. I view life as an opportunity, and I will explore as many of the opportunities as I can. Living in Baja California Sur is making my retirement a happy experience and I love sharing photos and stories of my life here.

Recent Baja Delights

The desert is coming alive. Summer is here for sure and I’m using my house fans already. We had such a cold winter. Well, at least it was cold to those who live here full time. I love the lazy, quiet summer, even with the humidity and heat. It’s like taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Sweet, sweet summer.

Couple days ago we went to La Paz to run errands. Stopped at the Bravo Market for bacon (for Greg) and bones (for our dog). I can barely stand the smell of the meat, so I wandered around looking at all the fruit and veggies while Greg waited his turn. In the various juice stands they must make a least 20 different types of fresh fruit and vegetable drinks. More my speed.

After our errands and shopping, we headed out of town toward the pretty beaches–Balandra Bay, and Tecolote Beach. Stunning views. Big city, desert and water and mountains all in one day.

Tecolote

So many shades of blue. It was pretty quiet where I took these photos, but not too far away people were speeding around in jet skies and you could hear the screams of delight from young kids. I prefer the quiet lapping of the water on the shore, but to each her own.

Today’s walk in the neighborhood was fun. Isabela and I have a couple different walks in the hills around where we live. She loves to chase rabbits and she is always stopping to smell something. It’s what dogs do. They have such a sense of smell.

The following is from

 http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/nature/dogs-sense-of-smell.html

It says, “For one thing, they possess up to 300 million olfactory receptors in their noses, compared to about six million in us. And the part of a dog’sbrain that is devoted to analyzing smellsis, proportionally speaking, 40 times greater than ours. Dogs‘ noses also function quite differently than our own.”

That is an interesting site if you are interested in dogs, and who isn’t?

We saw lots of things today, but I only took a few photos. The desert is alive with flowers this time of year.

Weeds? I won’t tell them if you don’t.

These are weeds apparently, but such showy ones.

Oh, and a dead rattlesnake. Poor guy. Isn’t he beautiful? Call me crazy, but I like snakes, though I have a healthy fear of this kind.

 

The photo below is a neighbor’s place. He must pay for a lot of water.

Going to leave you with a photo of my favorite peak– Sierra de La Laguna:

These photos should show you some of the reasons I love my life here in Baja Sur. We live on the “right side” of the wall.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Push Comes to Shove

This idiomatic phrase has been rolling around in my head for awhile and my attention has been focused on precise distinctions. Is there a subtle difference between a push and a shove? When things get critical, and there is an urgency, does a push then become a shove?

 

I had a professor at the University of Washington that insisted there are no synonyms. Each word has its own special essence and I believe these two words prove his point. ‘Shove’ seems more aggressive, doesn’t it?

Recently, I had my push/shove moment. The political climate in the USA is horrendous. My heart breaks constantly over the unabashed way our leaders disrespect humans. Not just the immigrants who are coming in search of asylum, but its own citizens. If you happen to be a person of color, or if you are not straight, white, and male, or enjoy a good financial status, then you are often treated unfairly.

The actions taken by the current government officials that hurt democracy, harm others in the world, and negatively impact our planet’s environment will take years to reverse. The bigotry shown by #45 and his ilk hurts all of us. America is no longer the country to which I feel connected.

I became so incensed I had to quit Facebook because I couldn’t stop emotionally reacting to all the political posts. I was horrified by posts from friends, or their responses to others’ posts, that showed them to be people I don’t even want to know. How can ANYONE say that #45 is a Christian? I can think of a lot of descriptors of him, and Christian certainly is not one of them. He lacks integrity, intelligence, moral fiber, and the ability to think critically as evidenced by his lies, executive orders, and his choices for cabinet members.

But it is the issue of gun control that changes everything for me. I find myself losing control of my emotions when I see how many  people find no reason to even discuss gun control. Gun control is not a valid issue to them.

It isn’t healthy to get so wound up. I deactivated my Facebook account. Now I pick and choose what to read. I am surrounding myself with books that make me think, help me become a better person. I am immersing myself in painting, music, and beach walks. I spend time with people who care about others, and people who believe in protecting rights, but don’t see owning an AR15 as a right anyone has.

I will continue to vote, to uphold my values, be part of my community, and do things to help others in big and small ways. But I won’t be sucked into being part of poisonous rhetoric. I am choosing to look for positive ways to impact my world. The actions I want to take will be of a supportive, encouraging nature to those I encounter. I will be better able to share with enthusiasm now because I am not constantly aching inside, being reminded of the evil nature that seems to be thriving in America right now.

You may see my withdrawal as cowardly. But I see it as simply realizing my limitations. I’m refusing to be bombarded with what kills my spirit.  Push has come to shove.

I just learned to play Amazing Grace on the ukulele. I finished another colorful painting of a doorway. I took my dog for a walk, my husband and I had a great conversation with our neighbors, and I started a new book. I’m filling my life with love and happiness.

 

My most recent attempt with acrylic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hiking Mt. Solmar in Flip Flops

 

It all started when my dear friend Dori and her daughter, Lily and Lily’s girlfriend, Annabel came from the US to stay in their home nearby us for a week. They wanted to go to Cabo San Lucas and hike to the iconic arch. Dori said they had done this before, so I gladly accepted the invitation to go with them. I have hiked a lot in my life and think it’s fun. Just because I’m 71 doesn’t mean I can’t hike anymore, right? But I wore flip flops? Really? What the heck was I thinking?

I drove us to Lands End in Cabo by the marina and after parking and avoiding several annoying salesmen trying to get us to buy a boat trip, we got to the beach on foot. That’s where this hike was going to start. But it has been quite a few years since Dori had gone to the arch. The pathway she’s sure they took back then is fenced off.

 

No stopping us though, and we decided to follow the path up Mt. Solmar and see if we could drop down onto a trail to the beach where the arch is.

 

Doesn’t look like much of a trail, does it?

 

Lily, Annabel, and me!

This wasn’t a problem for quite a long way, but we realized early on that this wasn’t going to be ending well. The beach is not in the direction we were going, and it got pretty steep without much of a trail. We sent the teen-age girls up alone to see if they could see a trail going down to the beach.

My flip flops made this a tenuous experience. Also, every time I reached for a rock as a hand-hold, there was a little cactus waiting to greet me. Oops. The views from where we were made it worth it though.

 

 

After the girls had gone higher and checked it out, we realized this wasn’t what we wanted to do and we started back down.

I definitely rue the day I didn’t wear my hiking boots or my tennis shoes at the very least. Without support and traction, I was not doing that well. I started to lose my footing at one point and reached out to hold onto a rock, but there was a cactus in that very spot, so in a split second I decided to jump, instead of fall. I landed on some loose rocks, jarring my knees and fell on my butt. Ouch. Not only was I trying to hike in these stupid shoes, I hadn’t had breakfast. It was about 11:30am at this point. The fall made me feel achy and woozy.

I would have kicked myself if that had been possible. Stupid me. At least I brought water along, but it was already half gone.

Cactus blooms delighted us on the trail.

Turned out that we could see a better (level) path after we got down that headed in the direction we wanted. Dori remarked that she should have listened to her intuition in the first place, as it was pretty obvious that going up this rocky mountain wasn’t going to get us to the arch.

Taking this nice path made for a sweet adventure that ended with more splendid views, but we never made it to the arch. One would have to be a mountain goat to get down the rocks to the beach. Or be wearing better footwear. And maybe being a little younger would have helped me. At any rate, we decided to get back to the beach where we started.

The arch is around the corner beyond the rocks. (I think.)

 

Dori, don’t fall!!!

The three of them brought swim suits. I only brought my camera.

Dori enjoying the water.

Others enjoying the water too.

We had the privilege to see lots of jumping rays as our finale.

 

We left the beach to the local children and headed to the restaurant to meet our spouses for lunch.

Maybe I’ve learned my lesson too.

Flip flops do not make good hiking footwear.

 

 

 

 

 

Cactus Dreams

When I was a kid I thought the desert was ugly. Really? What was I thinking? Now I get so excited about how many species of cactus I see here in The Baja.

Cactus dreams are mine.

 

Cactus Sunrise

 

Cactus Sunset

 

The one on the right above is from an agave that puts out this last bit of fun before it dies. We used it for a Christmas tree last year and we like it so much we kept it in front (without the lights). The one on the left is a yucca.

Below are two agave “trees” that are coming out of a couple small agaves.

 

 

 

Speaking of lights, we took them from the agave bloom and put them around our cardons in the front. Pretty cool, huh? Cardon cactus (scientific name: Pachycereus pringlei) are native to northwestern Mexico in the states of Baja California, Baja California Sur. (“Sur” means “South”)  It is the tallest cactus species known, with a record height of 63′ tall. It is similar, but not the same as, the saguaro cactus found in the Sonoran Desert in Arizona.

The ones below are on the side of my house. We have several cardon in our yard. They make great perches for the birds too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lately I have been painting little pictures of cardon. I was inspired by one of my photos to do this one:

 

Here’s the photo I used:

 

The ones below are growing into quite a clump, which is very common around here.

 

The first time we drove down The Baja, seeing the cactus was mesmerizing to us–the shapes, the sizes, colors, how they grow in such a desolate landscape. The varieties of cactus are endless, and I know only a fraction of what’s out there. The next few photos are from Cataviña on our drive on The Baja.

 

 

 

 

 

This last one in Cataviña is my favorite. It looks like a water color to me. Maybe I’ll attempt to paint this one.

Several of the cactus grow into funny shapes. We say they are “morphed.” I have no idea what causes this strange thing to happen to them. Diversity is everywhere. The one directly below is a pitaya that has morphed into this funny shape.

The next ones are morphed cardon.

 

Cactus are like people. Some of them are pricks and the next thing you know they blossom.

 

 

Here are some of my tries at painting these amazing plants.

 

The ones with the orange flowers are called tuna cactus. The ones with yellow blooms are nopales. I’ve had the paddles from them in salad. So yummy. You can eat the fruit too.

 

This gorgeous flowers above are growing on a pitaya, or organ pipe.

 

It always amazes me how cactus can grow in such rocky places.

Above is a cardon standing alone at Balandra Bay in La Paz.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I no longer believe the desert is ugly. It’s full of the most crazy, cool cactus and critters. My life is full of cactus dreams.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Whale Watching and More

A trip to Lopez Mateo in Magdalena Bay gave us more to love about the Baja. The experience was exactly what we wanted, with much more than whales to see. Magdalena Bay is on the Pacific side and after a peaceful morning with whales and dolphins, the boat dropped us off we had a short hike on the dunes to get to the ocean.

 

 

 

 

There are a family of coyotes who live on the dunes. There is no source of fresh water, so they rely on dew on the vegetation. I was surprised at how large they are. There must be a lot to eat.

 

We searched for treasures and found some. These are the largest sand dollars I’ve ever seen.

 

 

We made the trip with Carlos and Paula who own and operate the Todos Santos Surf Shop and Explora Baja. We’ve done the whale shark trip with them several times, but this is the first time for Mag Bay. It’s such an up close look at the gray whales. Our oldest son and his wife came from Florida to visit and we treated them to this side trip. It’s about a six hour drive, but Carlos drove and we had the comfort of a big van. The hotel we stayed in served delicious meals. The evening meal was lobster. Oh my! What a treat.

Our daughter-in-law loves to have her photo taken while she jumps for joy. What a delight.

 

Hearing the whales spout, seeing their tales, and being so close to these creatures gave us thrills.

 

 

 

The mangroves are something to see too. Lots of birds thrive here.

 

 

 

 

The sights and sounds of Magdalena Bay will be with us forever. We’ll definitely go again.

 

 

 

 

Dolphins show off!

The sunrise from our hotel room balcony was beautiful.

 

Memories are made of this.

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you for not driving on the beach!

 

 

I didn’t make this sign or put it in the public access by my house, but I am thrilled that someone did. Zona de Anidacion means Nesting Zone. But it is more than nesting that makes me so unhappy about people driving on the beach. What about the baby turtles as they hatch? It’s hard enough for them to make it to their ocean home going over all the footprints and beer cans and plastic bottles and other plastic crap that people leave on the beach.

Going over tire tracks is a major hurdle for these precious little ones. I’ve seen them as they fall into the rut and end up on their backs struggling to right themselves. It’s bad enough that some dogs dig up nests, and the birds eat the babies as they attempt to get to the sea and crabs eat the eggs in the nest. At least those last two I mentioned are nature at its finest.

But cars and trucks on the beach? Why? Because it’s Mexico and you can do anything you want and get away with it? No rules? You left your brain at home? You left your manners at home? You don’t care?

 

Yesterday I stopped a fisherman from driving his truck over a bunch of baby turtles. I went screaming and waving my arms in his path yelling, “No! No!” As he got closer I reached down and picked up one of the turtles and held it up for the fisherman to see. He got out of his truck and saw for himself all the turtles…must have been about 40 of them right there in front of him. Had I not stopped him, he would have driven over them in his full sized truck.

To his credit, he got right with it, picking up the babies and putting them closer to the water. Maybe that’s not the right thing to do either, but it’s better than driving all over them. He took photos with his phone and I offered to take his photo with the turtles. His smile with those little ones made my morning. We spent a lot more time watching the waves roll up and over them a few times before they finally made it out to swim. The fisherman never did continue driving, rather turned around and went off the beach.

I can’t help but think that if people who drive all over the beach would see this miracle hatching or females laying eggs, that they would stop taking their vehicles on the beach. Maybe that is too optimistic, but I’ve always been more of an optimist than a pessimist. Lack of knowledge about the impact their driving causes has to be one reason they don’t stop.

 

All those black dots are babies heading to the water.

 

These are the mother turtle tracks from coming up to nest and then going back to the water.

And in case you didn’t see my previous post, here is a mother turtle covering her nest. We came upon her early one morning. What a blessing to see this miracle.

I hope this short video of the babies heading to the water will buffer quickly for you.

I promise it is worth your time.

You miss many wonderful things driving on the beach. Here are some things I’ve come upon during my walks.

 

 

All collected one morning on the beach. Find the seahorse?

Just standing still for awhile to watch the waves, and turning toward the mountains and see the sunrise are two examples.

An eel washed up.

 

But it is more than that. The peaceful feelings, the wonder, or the magic won’t be yours as you roar down the beach in your vehicle.

Sunrise seen today as I walked on the beach.

 

Please don’t drive on the beach. The turtles need your help.

 

HPV Causes Cancer–HPV The Silent Epidemic

Attention. I need your attention. Especially if you are a parent. Children between the ages of 11 and 12 need the human papilloma virus vaccine.

https://www.nbcnews.com/health/health-news/silent-epidemic-cancer-spreading-among-men-n811466

Who knew? There is an epidemic of head and neck cancer among men. It’s caused by the human papilloma virus (HPV) and anyone who has been sexually active in his or her lifetime may have it. It is very common.  Some doctors believe HPV is as common as the cold virus. This is the virus that was dormant in Greg for years (no symptoms) and why he grew a tumor on his tonsil that was stage 4 squamous cell carcinoma. There are so many men affected by HPV that is causing throat cancer that it is considered an epidemic.

Please, if you have children, read the articles I’ve included with the links. Ask all the pertinent questions of your child’s doctor and seriously consider this vaccine. I know there are many young parents who won’t have their children vaccinated, but think again. Please. You don’t want this cancer for your son or daughter. It can be prevented with the vaccine. But only if you get it early like they recommend as 11 or 12 year olds. Adults cannot be protected with the vaccine. HPV does not just “go away” either.

The American Cancer Society has a lot of information about it, as well as many other reputable organizations. https://www.cancer.org/cancer/cancer-causes/infectious-agents/hpv/hpv-and-hpv-testing.html

 

Anyone who has ever had sexual relations, even with only one partner, is at risk for HPV. You owe it to yourself and your family to get educated. Please.

Cancer sucks. The treatments suck.

Educating yourself is painless.

https://www.cdc.gov/hpv/parents/questions-answers.html

 

 

Olive Ridley Turtles on “our” Beach

Two days in a row we came upon turtles laying eggs and then going back into the ocean. To say it was a thrill doesn’t quite capture the feeling. Such a blessing to witness this spectacle.

I’ve written extensively about the Olive Ridley turtles in a previous post, but I now can add these photos.

Look closely and you can see the motion of the sand as she covers her nest.

 

There were construction workers who are building houses on the beach. They  came down to view this too with their cell phones out snapping photos. We were all enthralled and excited.

 

 

 

They lay their eggs, cover the nests and go back into the ocean. What a blessing to witness this.

 

 

The bad news is that people drive on our beaches. It is illegal to do so, but it doesn’t stop them. Also, this morning we found four new nests and all of them had been dug up. There were 4 Runner tracks leading to each of them. Disgusting.

Turtles have enough trouble surviving without these creeps digging up the eggs. Ugh.

 

 

 

 

 

Part XI: It’s the Little Things

 

We are getting snug in our bed in the trailer the night before his first dose of chemo and Greg tells me, “I want to show courage and be a role model for my sons as I go through this cancer treatment.” He is being so brave, and while he has not been reticent to share his feelings thus far, this sentiment still astonishes me. It takes me a minute to recover, and as I hold him close tears run down my cheeks.

Lying together, cuddling in the soft, warm sheets and heavy blankets Janine has thoughtfully used to make our bed, I have faith that we will come through this rough patch in our lives better than ever. Already we are seeing things in a new way. Cancer has opened our eyes to so many things we used to take for granted. The little things seem important now; such joy comes from those warm, soft sheets, the stars in the sky, the smell of coffee beans being ground. Thankfulness in the midst of cancer somehow comes easily for both of us. Maybe it’s the outpouring of love and support from our friends that fills all the empty places in our hearts with hope. There are so many blessings.

December 7, 2016. First chemotherapy treatment following third radiation.

Each of us have committed to certain tasks to ready ourselves, and we work in silence to get them done before morning fully breaks. I pack some snacks, our books, the trusty medical notebooks and we load up on warm clothes. We learned from our initiation how patients get very cold during chemo. The drugs have been refrigerated and when they go into the bloodstream he will most likely need a blanket. They keep the blankets in a warmer, so he’ll be nice and toasty, but I bring along his sweatshirt too. We both have on thick socks to ward off the chill. Sometime during his treatment I will take Isabela out for a walk in the hospital neighborhood, so I pack her leash and my gloves, scarf, and hat. The drawing that Lilly made is coming with us too. Deep breath. Ready.

Driving out of Mike and Janine’s driveway, Isabela thinks we are going to take her somewhere for a run, and that’s not what’s happening. Because we are going to the hospital five days a week for seven weeks, I start telling her on day one, “We’re going to take Daddy to the hospital,” thinking that she will get the drift after a few days and stop whining when we drive off everyday. It works after a few days, but not today. Her whining is annoying. Guess we’re both nervous. She settles down as soon as we get into the parking lot to wait for the ferry.

After radiation today we go to the 3rd floor–the chemo floor. The nurses are friendly, yet professional. They make us comfortable with their smiles, assurances and skill. The first treatment will happen in a private room instead of out in the open pod areas, for privacy they explain. Okay, let’s get this going. Greg looks pretty calm, but I imagine his outward demeanor is hiding his anxiety. He usually verbalizes his internal conflicts, thoughts, ideas. Today he is stoic. Neither of us slept very well, which has heightened our feelings of uncertainty. Greg rubs his lips, I keep pushing my glasses up, even when they aren’t sliding down my nose. The unease in my body makes my mind race, and I keep going over and over a check list of today’s possibilities. It isn’t my habit to play What if? That’s always Greg’s job.

Soon he is seated in the recliner and they have taken his vitals and accessed his chest port. Pre-meds have started. These are the medicines that will help his body tolerate the chemo drug, Cisplatin. They are anti-nausea meds, so we cross our fingers they will work.

Sweatshirt courtesy of dear friends from Colorado.

 

Greg holds Lilly’s drawing to remind us of home, and it provides him with Baja strength.

After an hour, I go back to the car for Isabela. It takes me a minute to don my heavy jacket, gloves, scarf, and hat. She is so excited and happy to finally be getting out, she is pulling on the leash. This is not what she’s supposed to do. Looks like I have some repeat lessons to give. It is difficult and painful for me because my shoulder is in such bad shape. I was supposed to get a complete shoulder replacement next month (January) at the University of Washington; I’ve been waiting for five months already, but both of Greg’s oncologists think I should postpone my surgery, so I have done that. The pain is getting so bad, but I am working on putting it out of my mind. When my dog pulls hard on the leash it’s not easy to “forget” my pain. My issue seems trivial though, and feeling sorry for myself will only give rise to guilt. Wishing to avoid anything negative, I promise myself to stay focused on how I can make things easier for Greg. It’s not always that easy, I’m human after all.

While Isabela and I make a tour of the neighborhood, I am lost in thought. It’s hard not to worry about things. Is our house in Baja okay? No break-ins? How is Greg doing alone up there in that room? How are we ever going to repay our friends for their help? Is the treatment going to work? What if it doesn’t?

Before I know it we are back at the car. Isabela jumps in and I pour her some water, but she isn’t interested. Apparently it’s not easy to work up a thirst in this cold weather and merely being walked on a leash. I leave the bowl full and return to my guy.

He’s got his eyes closed. Good. He’s relaxing. One chemo almost done; six more to go. Soon we will ride the ferry back to Whidbey Island with a contented feeling of accomplishment. One day at a time. One foot in front of the other.

The ferry on a nice day with Mt. Baker in the background.

 

 

 

Part X: Treatment Begins

Thanksgiving comes and goes. Ordinarily it is my favorite celebration. Somehow we don’t feel very festive this year. Our friends Mike and Janine already have family plans off-island, so we are on our own in their beautiful home. Though we have been invited to spend it with some other island friends, we feel the need to be on our own instead.

The quiet time is good for us. I roast an organic chicken with carrots and make mashed potatoes. Even though I don’t eat meat, only fish, I always acquiesce and have turkey on Thanksgiving. This chicken is a fine substitute, as a turkey is too big.

We give thanks for all our blessings and enjoy the meal together.

 

Knowing that Greg’s first radiation and chemo are right around the corner, we are nervous. Fear is part of it too, and not knowing exactly what it will feel like makes Greg apprehensive. Is it going to hurt? Will he have claustrophobia in the mask that he has to wear in the radiation machine? Will the chemo affect him right from the start?

It feels like a gas pedal is stuck and we’re speeding down the highway without brakes. It’s all happening without our control. Not good for a couple of control freaks.

The form-fitted mask is finished, his PET scan has been done, and his chest port and his G-tube are in place. The PET showed “activity” on his thyroid gland, mandating a biopsy. Another little procedure, but it turned out normal/benign. Whew.

This is the mask he wears during radiation.

I love my husband and am a nurturer at heart; I’m not afraid to be a care-giver. I enjoy learning how to use the gastronomy tube (G-Tube): how to clean the tube itself, keep his tummy area clean, tape the dangling part onto his hairy stomach, administer the so-called food (Boost…yuck) via syringe, and how, as an alternative, feed him that yucky stuff using a pump and hanging the bag of Boost on a pole so that it can trickle in. It’s not that difficult, but it’s important to  regulate the pump, and to avoid germs while working through the process.

The Kangaroo Pump

 

We won’t need to go through this G-Tube feeding rigamarole until he has trouble maintaining nutrition orally, so for now all we do is keep it clean by putting a couple syringes full of water through it daily. It’s not easy for Greg to accept this foreign contraption as a way of life. “It’s gross,” he tells me. Of course he’s right. It’s gross.

The first day of treatment arrives: December 5, 2016.

We rise and shine early to give ourselves plenty of time. Being punctual is of major importance to us all the time, but it is even more important today. Coffee is first on our list. The adrenaline I hate so much is already coursing through my veins. Adding a little caffeine will make it worse, but coffee is our lifeline right now. Neither of us can eat.

As we’re ready to leave we run through our check list: ferry passes, cancer information binder, protein bars, Isabela (our dog), dog leash, water for us and Isabela, coffee, books, yarn and crochet hooks (I’ve got to keep busy), jackets, mittens, hats, and our notebook. We also make sure to bring a special drawing done by a young girl, Lilly, who is the daughter of our friends, Sean and Dori. It’s a lovely illustration of the ocean and has the name of our little pueblo, Pescadero, on it. Greg wants me to take his photo with the drawing while getting his treatment. This way we can show her how much it means that she created it for him.  He considers it his talisman, serving him with power. He’s sweet like that.

The ferry ride today is a blur, but I get out of the car and go up to the passenger deck to get a photo as we travel to “the other side” as we call it. This is the first of 35 daily trips (Monday through Friday) for Greg’s cancer treatment. The first of seven chemo treatments, in addition to radiation, is in two days.

Treatment begins!

The technician holds Lilly’s drawing for me. I return to the waiting room and they guide Greg into the radiation machine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

To Dance is to be Happy

Los mariachis me hacen bailer

Bailer es ser feliz

La  música tiene un ritmo

Me hace tocar los pies

Bailer es ser feliz

~~~

The mariachis make me dance

To dance is to be happy

The music has a rhythm

It makes me tap my feet

To dance is to be happy

~~~

Don’t they look happy?