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Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Thank You Greg, Janet, Sally and Ed


The first day of evaluation went well, better than expected. Everything was on time with little to no waiting. Anna rode in the wheelchair all day to save energy and that helped a lot. The assessment of our family and Anna's support system took about 2 hours with the social worker, Annie. She was very professional and impressive. It gave us a time to sit together and listen to Anna about how she feels about what is happening and to offer supportive words to each other in how we are all going to get through this. We are committed to helping each other and being sure we do not burn out. We all vote for a speedy transplant and recovery but the timing is so out of our control.

In retrospect, as I think about how the day progressed there was a unique character of support that was developing from behind the scenes. Do you ever feel that serendipitous things happen in such a way to be dream like? I do a lot of the time. It makes me feel like life is not all what it appears to be on the surface and there are communications that are unseen and unknown, making life's coincidences. You know how you think about someone and then there they are? Isn't life funny sometimes? Stanford is a very busy and bustling place. There are thousands of people there, and yet so many times I see people I know at just the right time and place. It happens a lot there and yesterday was no exception.

We have a dear friend, Ed. He and his wife Lisa have been our friends for 25 years. They are quite a bit older, Ed is now 85, but he is such a young minded man. He is a dear sweet man who was involved in the new age movement in CA from the beginning of Esalen knowing many of the early teachers of that era. In fact, he was a teacher himself and has a black belt in Akido. He is a Buddhist and poet and one of my favorite people. He is also a chaplain volunteer at the hospital once per week. I have seen him from time to time when I was at the hospital as he did his rounds of compassion. I had no idea what day he was to be there. I have been missing Ed. As I was walking down the hall I thought about Ed and Lisa and that I had not seen them for a while and wished I could knock on their door.

You know where this is leading. A couple of hours later as Anna and I went to her last appointment of the day and pushed the button of the elevator to go to Ground the doors parted and there standing all by himself was Ed. "Ed! I can not believe it is you. You are the man of my dreams, standing there! I so wanted to see you!" This is the true work of a tuned in chaplain! Such an act of Aikido! He appeared at the most opportune time after I knocked (pushed the button, ha ha) at his door. We hugged and caught up. It felt like such a gift. I need magic right now. That was magical.

A little other friendship magic happened earlier in our visit that was confirming and supporting. As we talked about Anna's support system and the what ifs like if any of us are sick is there someone to step in my sister, Sue's and sister-in-law, Terri's and our dear friend, Janet's names were mentioned. She could come from Mendocino to help us. It could not have been 30 secs later my cell phone rang. It was Janet. I could not answer because we were in the meeting but, it was her way of saying, "I hear you all the way up here in Mendo, yes, I will be there." We all laughed at that and also knew that her loyalty as a friend could be counted on. A little magic was sprinkled on us.

And, just before that, not so serendipitously but with love and great timing (minutes before our session was to begin) my brother, Greg called as we were waiting in the Chest Clinic and to begin the process. He did not know where I would be at that time but he called to say he loved me and sent his support. I need my brother and this family support and kindness. It makes such a difference.

And interspersed yet another time in the day, when we were having lunch in the sunshine, another friend, Sally, came up to us to say hello and to tell us of a former neighbor in the hospital with cancer. She was visiting her. I know they are dear friends. I could see the pain and concern on her face. Meeting Sally showed me how much true friends do care and will be there when you need them.

I know we all have these experiences. It is when they happen when you need them to, when you are needing support and good things to come your way that they add that flavor of sweetness to the day that makes you believe that life is good even though it is so very tough. Thank you Greg, Janet, Sally and Ed. You are all so special and reaching out means so much.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

So, Are You Nervous?

While doing her percussion treatment last night Anna asked, "So, are you nervous?"

"About tomorrow?" I asked. "No, not really. I am not the one on the hot seat. Actually, I am relieved that we are finally doing it."

"Yeah, I'm the one that is to be poked......." Anna responded.

It is early, 4:45AM that I am starting this post. I got up to write because I realized that yes, I am nervous. It was hard to sleep. I would wake up with not feeling great, buzzing in my stomach, agitated. Finally I decided that I might as well get up. I have to be at Anna's at 7AM ready to go. She is getting up at 6AM to do nebulizers, etc. before I arrive to pound on her. We will leave the house by 8:30AM while Anna is fasting to get to Stanford Hospital by 9:15 to register. The transplant evaluation begins today.

After she registers Anna will have blood work done. She is nervous because her dear little veins usually try their best to hold on to her precious blood. Others can have their blood drawn through their ports but Anna's port-a-cath in her chest also is stingey and will only receive drugs into her and will not allow blood to be drawn. My mother had small veins as well. That is just one familial connection....

At 10AM until noon Anna, Sara, Casey, Doug and I will be meeting together with the transplant social worker to be assessed as her caregivers. One of the important elements of this process and being accepted is having a support system that can help you get through it. If you do not have an adequate support network then transplant will be too difficult, may prove unsuccessful and a patient can be denied the surgery. They already know that Anna and I are tied at the hip, a loyal, faithful and hardworking mother, daughter team. They also know that Doug, Sara and Casey are there too, to love her and help her as needed so this is a formality. It is also a way that we begin this process together showing our support and love for Anna.

This feeling that I have while waking, while typing. My body knows what this is all about. My mind has to catch up. I think when there are things that are just too much to really deal with the body finds an escape valve. Okay, I tune into my yucky feeling, my tummy, my anxiety. This is it. This is the end stage of this disease. We are here. You only get a transplant because you will not live much longer. That is one of the other stipulations along with a support system. How can I access those tears? I have worked so hard to keep my darling from this place. I worried about her; I spent sleepless nights; I sat with her for countless hours in the hospital; I have had her as the center of my world for so long to save her. There are the tears. I hope that I can find some release before the morning begins.

I am afraid, yes, Anna, I am nervous. I want the world for you as I always have, as your dad and I always have, as your sister does and your sweet courageous Casey does too. We all want the world for you. We want you to have a simple morning of waking up, rising from your bed and just simply, very simply starting your day as you want to. No more aerosols, treatments, coughing until you are totally out of breath, tubing in the nose and denial of the refrigerator because if you eat you will throw up so you have to wait for hours. I want to see you and Casey go on a vacation and play in the turquoise blue ocean and laugh and live like others your age do.

Yes, I am nervous and I am sad, so sad that you have had to endure so much. The rest of us breathe as we should. We want you to too. You are so brave. You have this to face. So much, so much. Your evaluation begins this morning but as you said we will finally move from the waiting until we can be waiting, to WAITING. Waiting for the call and working hard to keep you as well as we can with all of our energy and love. We know that you need us. We need you too in our lives. We need to see you with a smile when you wake up and can breath. Oh my, the tears of joy when that happens. That is what is keeping us going. This is the focus for our thoughts after the escape valve releases.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

About My Links

I am taking the opportunity to list links to other web pages on my blog. As you can see under the "about me" there is a "gadget" that lists links. Here is what they are about. There are 13 links. Hmmm seems appropriate as that is the number attributed to my Anna as she was born on the 13th.........(not saying I won't add other links later, though). The links are in alphabetical order, not in order of importance or where you should go first.

Anna's Blog: Anna Banana's Variety Show was started a while ago but Anna had stopped blogging. Now she is taking it up again. She also thinks it is important to log in her experience. So, tune in to her to get it from the source.

Breathing Room: The Art of Living with Cystic Fibrosis is a fantastic organization that gives artful voice to the CF experience. Michelle Compton is the founder and exec director. Visit the site to see interesting photographic images of living with CF and accompanying poetry. Michelle had a lung transplant well over 10 years a go. She is a good friend and huge inspiration.

CF Concert in Japan: While in Japan in Oct 2009 I had the honor of presenting Healing Flags to Japanese CF families (there are very few in Japan) at a fund raising concert in Sendai along with my friends Ana and Isa and their documentary film crew. It was a special, special time. This is a video clip produced by The Power of Two.

CF Courage Dolls: This is a project I organized. 9 CF moms (one aunt) spent 9 months creating courage dolls to support each other. CFRI created this web page to share the project with others.

CF Singing Sisters: This video clip is from a very recent TV show where two sisters with CF sang. They are talented and sweet. A heartful moment.

Conversations with CF Moms: This video clip is of a group of us moms filmed by the Power of Two documentary sharing our experience with you.

Cystic Fibrosis Research Inc.: This is the organization that has been the support life line for our family. I served on the board for 10 years when Anna was little and recently helped with the newsletter. If you want to make a donation this is the place.

Healing Flags for Japan: CFRI created this web page to share my Healing Flags project that CFRI members participated in.

Organ Donor Registry: If you live in California and are not already registered as an organ donor please visit this site and do it now. Give the gift of life if something tragic happens to you. Talk with your family of your wishes and encourage others to do the same.

Our Family on CF Voice: We were interviewed at the CFRI conference for this video clip on a very interesting web site that also has other very good information and interviews. Click on the "All In the Family" button on the right when opening the page.

Tess Dunn: Enjoy the music and talent of Tess who has CF, lives in Santa Cruz and is the daughter of a CF mom friend.

The Power of Two: This is going to be a great documentary film about CF and organ donation to be completed this year and released next year.

The Song, Breathe: On the CF Voice web site this song and music video is very moving.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

One of Those Days

I wonder, will I ever have a life without this craziness? I used to have time for myself tootling in the garage, making things, feeling creative. It has been a long, long time since then. In the past couple of years I have been dealing with intense things; a dear elderly disabled friend who needed "a daughter"; my poor mother in constant pain, constant Dr. appointments and disability, hospitals and the end of her life; Doug's mom dying from lymphoma; daughter Sara with two ER visits and surgery in a year; buying a new house and selling and moving from our home of 20 years during the Holiday season (the year before we spent Xmas in Stanford ER) and Anna's declining health with multiple hospitalizations and now the eventual transplant list. And this is the short list! (Note: I must write a post about all of this, it is insane!) We have been used to CF being the great interrupter for the last 30 years, but combined with everything else in the past two years or so it is the icing on the cake or as Anna says, the crown on the drama queen that is our family. (Never used to think we were dramatic, but I guess I was wrong) It has been one family crisis after another. Not a lot of time for tootling.......

But, to get to what else is going on, my body also wants to interrupt and be noticed too. It asks for attention and it is definitely getting older with all of the #%#&*!! crap that comes along with it. And yesterday was one of those days when it was my body that contributed to the crazy busyness.

I have been trying to exercise in the morning going for a little run (jog). It really helps me a lot to get some exercise. I think it can be much better than talk therapy. After all how could I ever really talk about all the stuff I listed above, no one would believe it. It is a great way to start the day. So, I did so yesterday morning and had no problem until I noticed that my knee had a bulge. It was a soft to the touch, watery, cushy lump. The back of my shin under my knee was also swollen. No pain though. Hmmmmm. Go away! I do not have time for you! Go away! No good, the bulge still remained. Now what do I do; ignore it, decide if it needs hot or cold, hide it from Anna to not bother her, or what?

Honesty took over when I went to Anna's condo. "I have a swollen leg, look." "Mom, call the doctor it might be a blood clot." OMG just what I need, we need. So, I could no longer ignore the soft cushy bump and fatter left leg even though that was the course I preferred to take. While Anna was sucking in her aerosols Dr. Watson's nurse called me back, I could be seen at 11AM. We worked hard to get through the pounding in time for me to jump in the car and drive to Menlo Park in time. I was sure it would be quick and then I had to return to get Anna to a clinic appointment at 1:30PM.

Well of course, you know how doctor's offices go. I saw Dr. Watson at 11:45. "So, what have you been doing? Have you traveled anywhere lately?" she was fishing for a reason for the swelling, like airplane travel. I looked at her and thought, "travel, you mean like did I just return from a grand vacation in Hawaii or something?" Again, an OMG arose in my mind and I looked at her kind eyes, "You can not believe the stress I have been under. Perhaps all of this fluid in my leg is stored up tears" and the real tears flowed. We hugged. I love Dr. Watson.

But, the swelling in my leg and my knee was not due to the stress and the tears still to be cried. Her first concern was indeed whether I had a blood clot but she was pretty sure it was not. She thought I had a cyst that was on the back of my knee, top of my shin (common as a pre-curser for arthritis!) that had burst and the fluid was filling space in my leg and knee. Even so, we had to rule out blood clot. An Xray of the knee and ultrasound was ordered. Ok mind, yes you heard it, arthritis Not a surprise, age is advancing and it is definitely in the family. Oh but it does not hurt now so I must keep my focus on the task at hand. Time was getting short.

I got my knee Xray and made an appointment for my stat ultrasound at 3PM then jumped in the car, raced (went speed limit really) back to Sunnyvale to pick up Anna. I scrambled getting things ready for her and we jumped in the car and drove to Stanford for her CF clinic appointment. While driving there Anna says, "Mom, this may be my last CF clinic appointment. After I am listed I will be going to the transplant clinic." My head began to spin. The implications of "the last CF clinic appointment" was startling. I have been going there for so long. What did this mean? It meant so many things, I could only seize on the meanings that I wanted it to mean. It has to mean that we are closer to our miracle. That is the best meaning for sure.

We sat in the clinic waiting room then the clinic exam room until it was time for me to jump again into the car and drive to my ultrasound. I finished my medical appointment, got in the car again, drove back to Stanford, parked, walked to the clinic, opened the exam door and was able to participate at the end of Anna's meeting with her CF doc. Again, OMG what a day. It was 4:30 and dear Anna finally had time for lunch, a PB&J.

Home again, home again, jiggity jig and back to the Wednesday routine, second treatment, dinner, the dance show, So You Think You Can Dance, third treatment and back to the apartment by 10:30..........tired. Forgot to mention........no blood clot, TG.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

We All Have To Give Up


It all feels so different. The intensity, the immediacy, what we need to give up and what is really now at stake. We all have to do this. There is no choice. It is like when Doug and I moved in December. It unfolded. We knew we wanted to move at some point. It then became, we had to move, it was time. We got into gear and did what needed to be done. And now, that set the stage for this poignant time. We all have to deal with the immediacy of this moment. Life is at stake and an opportunity for a miracle is at hand. There is no choice but to do what we all need to do.

We all have to give up. And that is all of us, in ways that we have not really had to before. We have to give up to the ripening of this stage of CF with its danger and exhaustion. We have to give up to our circumstances of where we live and work in relationship to the task of caring for Anna. We have to give up our usual control on how our day goes.

I am the one now who has to live a large part of the week away from my personal space. Before we moved it was Doug who had to live away in a room from time to time, lessening the commute. We moved so that we could be together and he could finally be close to work. Now it is reversed. Again, we are not together and he is taking care of the home front and I am in "the apartment" to be near this work of caring for Anna. It is new for me to not be able to control the home environment. That was always my space. I know that is new for Doug too. I am not there to be sure that food is on the table, that the chores are done, the plants watered, and the dog is walked and happy. Now that is his job most of the week along with his day job. That is what he has to give up and that is how he has to grow.

I have to give up my ability to fix it for him. I cannot be in all places at once fixing and mending for everyone in the family so that they can all be happy. I have to let it be OK that I am not there creating the comfort and the space for Doug that I like to. I have to attend to this work, to our daughter. We have all worked so hard to fight against this disease and this is such a moment. We never clearly visualized this time and how it would be. It came upon us as life unfolded. And as it is unfolding it is the lesson of giving up and personal sacrifices that we are facing.

But what we are facing is nothing in comparison to the lessons of letting go that Anna has to learn. In tears and total frustration she tells me of how she cannot have the life that she so loves. CF is taking away and narrowing her life so much. There is little that she can really do on her own besides staying focused on treatments, medications, keeping track of what needs to be done. I am doing the cooking now. Anna loves to cook. I am running the errands. No more jumping in the care to run off to an adventure for Anna now. We are doing this to help her get her life back to have a new life one day soon. To have a life altering surgery that takes out the offending beast that is strangling her life-line of breath and replacing it with healthy new vibrant lungs. Any personal sacrifice seems so trivial to this amazing event we are hoping to be participating in.

But something has happened in all this letting go and giving up. Anna has found a new talent While in the hospital the last few times she began to watercolor. And now, when there is a moment she is taking up the brush. Her painting ability is growing and developing. She has found something new to give her a feeling of accomplishment. Anna never felt that she could be still enough to paint like this. The disease has slowed her down, leading her to a new expression. She responds to what she puts onto the page as if it is a miracle, that she could actually produce art, wonderful talented art.

Is this a lesson for all of us? Isn't this what the natural world teaches us? As we give up and let go there is space for newness. Winter makes way for the beauty of Spring. This is even in the place of tragedy and in illness. There is always a place to find new growth and miracles in our lives. I wonder how it will be for all of us as we continue to have to give up and operate differently in our lives as we do this work for Anna. How will each of us be different? What new talents or parts of ourselves will we find? That is true for you Sara, and you Casey, and you Doug, and me too. And most of all for you Anna, how will life be different and how much more will you know about yourself?

Monday, June 21, 2010

I am not 29!!!!!!

I have been reminded that Anna is not 29, technically. To me, she will be 29 on July 13, is more 29 than she is 28. But, just thought I would let you know that I am actually a mom of a 28 year 325+ day old beautiful woman. Soon, very soon, she will be 29!

A Fish Story


Usually a fish story is filled with exaggeration. You are not sure if it is really true. A long thread is pulled as the story is told and you exclaim, "that is a fish story if I ever heard one!" But this is not that kind of a fish story. This one is true. both Anna and I caught fish this weekend, strange, but true! Anna's catch was a fish of her dreams that swims through aqua water with cherry blossoms floating in its wake. Mine was caught at a secluded creek arm of a favorite reservoir and whose sweet meat was shared with friends.

How were these fish caught you might ask? Our daughters decided that Doug and I needed to take this weekend to get away. It may be our last time for quite a while. When Anna is on the list for lungs we cannot be more than 4 hours away. Even though that is true I am unsure if either of us want to be much more than 1 hour away. It will just be too nerve wracking. So, daughter Sara came to help Anna this weekend so that we could go away and restore and rest. We seized the moment and drove to our country house in the foothills.

Meanwhile, back to Anna and her dream fish. For a very long time Anna has wanted a third tattoo, but this time not a small understated tattoo, but rather a substantial piece of art work to adorn her. The subject of the tattoo would be a koi in aqua water. Anna is a water child, born a cancer and has always loved water, especially warm, tropical blue water. The koi is a beautiful and showy fish but also a symbolic symbol of courage and strength. So, for a long time she imagined a beautifully designed koi swimming on her body as a way to say to herself and the universe that she recognizes herself and her challenge and is ready to meet it.

Because Anna's health has declined faster than expected she thought that there was plenty of time to have an ornate tattoo fashioned on her with multiple sittings prior to transplant. After transplant you are not supposed to have tattoos because of immunosuppression. In the last two months getting the tattoo seemed more of a fantasy that would not be fulfilled. Anna found a skilled and very talented artist who could paint the fish of her dreams upon her body months ago, but because he is so good at what he does it takes months to get an appointment. The first appointment was coming up soon but Anna knew that with her delicate health a tattoo with multiple sittings was something that she could not risk.

Last week Anna decided that it would be much too much of a disappointment if she could not have her dream fish tattoo in some form. It would have to be done in one sitting. The thought that she would have a partially completed tattoo that may never be completed was not acceptable. So, the design had to be made smaller. With the love and artistic support of her sister, a new, more compact design was created that could be done in one sitting. This felt much more achievable. Checking in with the artist on Friday he agreed to the new plan but it was discovered that he gave her an incorrect date for her first sitting. He would be out of town. Anna's heart sank, "but there will be no other time. If I am to have this tattoo it has to be now." As things are meant to be or, as you create your reality, the artist happened to have time on Saturday evening and was willing...... Suddenly Anna's lower back was to be a canvas the next day. It actually was perfect with Sara with her, supporting her, it was what these sisters had talked about sharing with each other for months now.

While Sara and Anna prepared for their fish expedition Doug and I prepared for ours. One of our most favorite things to do is to take out our boat on a near by reservoir in the foothills and throw in our lines. This practice restores us. This may be the only time this summer that we will be able to take the boat out. First we trolled for kokanee salmon with no luck. Next we drove the boat to a a lovely quiet spot with tranquil water and fishing holes. Our boat floated with the wind as we used our trolling motor to steer by the side of the lake while it narrowed into a spit of creek. Awwwwww, peace. It was but a few minutes and with a worm on my hook a fish took hold. It was a 16 inch brown trout. Yayyyyyyyy! Catching trout in this reservoir is not common for us. Usually we catch and release bass. When ever we catch a trout it is a very special occasion. The fish was lovely. I allow myself to take these fish for eating as a way to stay in touch. Yes, I know there are all kinds of justifications but I enjoy eating fish and we eat it regularly. I was raised fishing as a little girl and knew from a young age how to clean my own fish. If I am willing to have others catch it and sell it in the grocery store then I should be able to catch it and eat it myself.

Now we were all caught in the spell of fish. Doug and I had a prize to share with precious friends for dinner. Anna and Sara shared their bond of sisterhood at the tattoo parlor. We told our story to our friends. Soon, they were were caught too and we were all captivated by the taste of trout freshly coked and the images of the tattoo parlor with a woman with oxygen and her sister fulfilling a dream. Our trout gave us the gift of bonding with our friends, and the interesting connection of fish with our daughters. The koi tattoo offered us all an image of courage and persistence with the willingness to not let dreams get away even when they could easily slip away. Anna spent 5 1/2 hours on the tattoo table determined. Her dream came true. The fish is exquisite. It was difficult, she had pain, she now needs to let it heal, but it is done. Another thing on her check list complete before our miracle arrives.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

I Do Not Want To Do This

I do not want to do this. There is something inside of me that rebels. I just don't want to. I just don't want to watch or be there while CF makes its final assault. It was so much better when it was in the future and not in the now. But here it is and I cannot say no to being a witness and part of the infantry fighting back with all that we have, all that Anna has. The strength and determination that swings at the obstacles, coughs out the polluting crud and trudges through the trenches is nothing but inspiring. The hope that beckons from the eyes of friends who have been there and now are on the other side with new lives is what we strive for everyday.

I do not want to do this. We just moved to a new house not far away but far enough to make a regular commute an added stress that tips the balance. I do not want to make another home in an apartment where I do not really belong. It is a family crash pad to land and sleep while we work along side of Anna pounding her body like the sides of a ketchup bottle to get that &>*#$%! crap out of her lungs. Liquid oxygen tanks are in her living room with long plastic tubes tethered to her nose and trailing through her condo. She spends hours and hours a day in the battle. This is what life is at this time. We try to find a window of time when there is no medicine, pounding, high calorie eating, or talking with "medical people". It is rare to find but she has worked to carve out and find those moments. The other day she was able to celebrate her sister's graduation and on another, her dear friend's wedding and on another, we had a frozen yogurt. Today we may go out to breakfast carrying a portable tank to the restaurant. But at least it is something other than the relentless.

I really do not want to do this. I really do not want to see her exhaustion, the lack of vitality when at 29 she should be eager to run out the door engaged in her life outside. Now it takes hours to just get ready for the day and a shower is a major event. I took care of her as a child. I was a devoted mom, a stay at home mom loving every minute of it. CF lived with us, haunted us, challenged us, interrupted us, scared us, exhausted us, but my little girl could run from the house into her life with energy and a giggle in those days. But this stay at home mom, in the prison of CF mom, in the never ending fight against chronic lung disease mom watching its clutches on the remnants of lung is not what I want to do. This stay at home mom wants something else. We are fighting to get out of here, to run out the door.

I do not want to be here. We are in the "we do not know". We can decide to call it the Now, but I still do not want to do this. In the Now we work so hard to beat this thing. But in the Now, if we are present, we are supposed to find more than the struggle pressing in upon us. It is here where we find the tender moments, the gentle love, the comments, "I cannot believe what it will be like to have so many more hours to my day without treatments. Just think of what I can do. You can save the world in that time." That makes me want to be here. In this Now there is nothing I would rather do than to do what I do not want to do. To give it my all, to fight this damn disease to the final punch until the miracle we are ordering finally arrives and I can hang up my stay at home mom, fight CF mom hat and run out of here with her hand in mine!

Miracle On Order


I went on a special trip in October, 2009 with dear friends and a documentary film crew to Japan. The purpose of the trip was to reach out to the Japanese people about organ donation and cystic fibrosis. I dedicated this trip to all those who suffer with CF, those courageous and fortunate enough to receive lung transplants and the families who so compassionately allow their loved ones' organs to provide life for others. It was a remarkable and very touching adventure. One day I visited the Asakusa Kannon Temple in Tokyo with my friend Ana Stenzle. While there I was so moved by the history and the sense of so many people coming from around the world to say prayers and ask for compassion. I placed incense and made prayers for my daughter that she would one day experience the miracle of transplant saving her life and giving her a new lease on life. After our prayers we threw sticks for our fortune, a tradition at the Temple. The following is the fortune that I received. My heart was full of hope that indeed this may come true for my darling daughter. So, I wish to begin this blog with the fortune offered to me at that special place at that special time when I placed the order for a miracle........


When spring comes, Katsura tree flowers are in full bloom, smelling so well.
Your fortune will open wide when your season comes. If you get the chance, open,
you will get fame and honor, climbing the way to the top of the sky.
Also you meet a great person with honor who helps you.
The moon in the dark sky will get bright again,
in the clear sky, you can meet the fortune soon.
"Your request will be granted. The patient gets well soon."

Asakusa Kannon Temple
Tokyo, Japan
October, 2009