Last night was both a milestone and a miracle of sorts.  I slept for my usual (since the surgery) 5 hours in bed and then was sleepy enough to stay in bed for another 3 hours...making for a total of 8 hours of sleep in my own bed.

Quite the luxury!

It was a miracle because it happened in spite of worry over my stepmother (Mom #5) Sally's continued hospitalization with heart issues.  I'd go into more detail but it's not my story, it's hers.  So suffice to say that she's doing well; they want her to be a bit better in some areas before going home; and she's being well looked after by the good folks at Kaiser and by her daughter, my dad and my brothers and their families.

It was sort of ironic to have this situation arise given my earlier blog about "killing" Martha (my caretaker persona).  I've gotten a number of responses to that idea both on and offline and here I was, presented with a situation where I'd normally have jumped in the car and headed down to help...

and not able to do so.

I spent some time talking about that with one of my brother's today (Darrell).  We agreed that it had been a great gift that I'd had that freedom and flexibility for so many years.  And that this new situation will yield its own gifts in all of our lives.

Like long phone calls with my brother while I'm on a walk.

To be perfectly honest, it was really walks and A restaurant, but I did feel well enough to go on some excursions today.  That's a definite blessing and a win (thanks, God!).  I started the day being somewhat "slantsy" as Ken coined the term--a combination of sleepy and ansty brought on by the lack of sleep the last few days and by the compazine, I believe, which has been so effective at managing the nausea but also has a jumpiness side effect.  Hence...slantsy.

After the compazine wore away, with no ill effects literally, we braved an outing to our favorite local Mexican restaurant (Avila's Restaurant on La Paz) where I had chicken soup.  Somewhat typically, I saved half of the soup for dinner and then forgot it on the table.  <sigh>

The rest of the day has been passed in the pleasant pursuits of phone conversations with friends and family, of hanging out with Cindy, with Ken and Dan, in watching a documentary (more on that later) and in talking an afternoon constitutional.  The weather is exceptional outside...a nice change from the frigid temperatures we've been having.  I didn't walk as far as I have walked but I walked farther than yesterday.  As Cindy Siler said in her post the other day..."Welcome to the roller coaster ride called 'fighting cancer.' "  I must say, I prefer these upward days.

The documentary we watched was called Jesus Camp.  The film follows a youth pastor (Becky Fischer) as she seeks to influence young kids for Christ.  Her perspective is staunchly conservative, evangelical and charismatic.  It was fascinating to watch, no matter which side of the political or religious spectrum from which you hie, the influence of group dynamics on these kids.

I found the kids' sincerity to be uplifiting and ultimately hopeful.  I found the conflation of religion and politics to be disturbing.  I found Miss Fischer to be a compelling and sympathetic person whose absolute conviction of the truth of her brand of Christianity to be entirely in sync with her efforts.

Overall, I thought the movie came from a left bias.  Cindy and I were not sure if producers were aware of the ironies provided by the left(ish) broadcaster who appeared in parts of the film with his own brand of "true religion."

The film sparked a wonderful conversation among Ken, Cindy and me as we discussed various aspects of our faith, and shared some quotes, prayers and verses that have been meaningful to us on our spiritual journies. 

I find the topic of interest because, as I've indicated before on this blog, I started my Christian life at a fairly young age, progressed from Methodist to Conservative Baptist, to Presbyterian and back to Baptist--all the while coming to terms with "articles of faith" that I did not find illustrated in the Bible or in the lives of Christians who clearly loved and followed God.  (Sometimes despite what they said.)  I've come to believe in a Creator of infinite compassion.  I believe in that Creator within the framework of Christianity because that it is the religion that speaks to my heart of a central truth...a God who loves the world so much that he gives his only begotten son so that no one would perish.  I don't know the mysteries or intricacies of how that works.

And that statement alone is probably what led to my break with the conservative church.  It has long been my prayer that if I err, I hope it is on the side of compassion.

At any rate, with regard to the film, I'd say if you have an interest in Christianity and Politics...and the crossroads at which they meet in our nation, this film is worth your time.

Rent it.  Watch it with someone who will be willing to discuss it. 

It's just the two of us home today and we're having a great time being lazy.  So far we've watched two movies from the 90's (The Fugitive and Die Hard II) and we're gearing up for The Road Warrior next.

We haven't been completely antisocial today.  Our friends, Bill and Donna Davis (missionaries in the Philippines) stopped by on their way north this morning.  And we enjoyed a heavenly breakfast of Wolfermann's muffins with Erik before he left go back home. 

Erik was a godsend this week.  Bill and Donna, in their own way, were the same as they asked questions about the diagnosis, shared their hope and faith with us and prayed with us for healing both from my surgery and from the cancer.

So...no big treatise on any topic today.  Just a tip of the hat to the comforts of friendship and a long marriage...gratitude for the day we get to share, today.

Now if only I could eat popcorn!

But as they say, better late than never!

It was a busy day today.  We started off with the deliciously sinful habit that we picked up at Dick and Dotty's when we were last there--Trader Joe's Pecan Rolls.  (You can find them in the frozen section...and they are well worth the calories on days when you need that special fortification that only decadence can provide.)

We went to our first oncology appointment at 11:00 am only to realize we were at the wrong office (of the two that the doctor maintains).  Dan got us from here to San Clemente in record time and I still had plenty of time to fill out the reams of paperwork that each doctor asks for.  (Complete medical history of me, every family member and each pet we've ever owned...I swear!)

There was just enough time to grab a quick bite at a local diner between that appointment and our "second opinion" appointment.  One of the things I love about Laguna Niguel is that there are these little cafes around town, independently owned, serving delicious food at a cafe price.  Today's lunch was at Mitzi's.  Check it out next time you're in our neck of the woods.

Oncologist #2 also required the fully detailed medical history, so we had a bit of a wait while I wrote as quickly as I could.  Dan read while I did the homework and then the doctor came in shortly thereafter.  We had a very productive meeting and, as most of you will know from the "gory details" email update, we're going with him as the medical and oncological centerpost for Team Laura.

And it looks like there's a bit of surgery in my future to remove the tumor from my colon.  I'll know more about when that's to be scheduled in a day or two.

We did get some good news this evening, after I sent out the email.  Dr. Cheng, my new oncologist, called to say that he's spoken with the surgeon and with the radiologist.  He had wanted to make sure that there was sufficient liver function even with the tumors in there that delaying the chemo would not lead to problems with the liver.  As he put it, the liver has a great deal of tissue that is uninvolved by the cancer.  This is good news, indeed.

We are winding down now after what's proven to be a draining, but encouraging day.  It feels like I've begun to join battle with the enemy.  That action feels good, inspiring and invigorating.

I don't intend for all my blogs to be about cancer and oncologists, doctor's offices and medical procedures.  I appreciate the patience of those of you who maybe showed up looking for my take on Hillary's appointment as Secretary of State and instead got a medical stream of consciousness.

The reality is I am a person fighting cancer.  I'm a political junkie.  I'm a wife who loves her husband, a daughter who loves ALL of her parents, a sister so grateful for amazing brothers and sisters, a friend who can't believe how rich she is in friendships, a poet, a sometime novelist.  I am all of these at once.  And sometimes, some days, mostly one or the other.

Hillary and Obama will just have to make room.

Thanks to my youngest godson, Chad, I've joined the wacky world of Facebook.  This means I've spent the better part of two days figuring out how to add applications, how to update my profile, what "wall to wall" means, and why so many people are engrossed by this social networking site.  My two-second take on the phenomenon is that it's the next generation of email...just as email took over from snail mail, social networking will take over from email.

The old obsession I've been toying with is reading.  For the first few days after my diagnosis, I couldn't read anything at all.  The words bounced off my brain and lay there on the page, dead.  Now, that the initial shock is over though, I'm beginning to read again.  Not that I've suddenly started reading the classics...no, I'm back to reading thrillers, cop stories and a new sci-fi tale given to me by Erik.  But it had been nice to be interested again, to lose myself for a few moments in another world.

Last, but not least, is poetry.  I've written poetry for as long as I can remember.  And one of the things I quickly decided the past week is that I want to write a poem a day for a while.  So that's what I've been doing.  Not editing, not rewriting (although those things will have to come) but writing a new poem every morning.  So far, I like two of the three very much.  And it's wonderful to be flexing those neurons again...the ones that make yellow leaps and fuse together words that clearly belong together but don't usually occupy the same space.

Other than these three obsessions, Dan and I enjoyed an invigorating walk today.  I watered the plants.  Took back my kitchen (by putting things where they belong <grin>).  And we hung out for three hours with my brother, Dennis, and his son Brian, daughter-in-law June, and our great nephew Avery and his sister Ainsley.  The kids played in the yard, happily dismantling the putting green, tossing the balls in the jacuzzi and throwing in some tub toys I'd bought a while back for Avery.  The adults watched the little ones while talking and snacking...truly a memorable day.

The alternate title for this blog is "I better write this while I can!"  I'm taking the lovely and delicious concoction known as Movi Prep to clean out my insides so that I can have a colonoscopy tomorrow.  Normally, I wouldn't share that, but since it's to discover whether or not colon cancer is the source of my tumors, it's become blog worthy in the current context.

I've already had two friends vow to have their colonoscopies done due to my situation, so that makes me quite happy.  And a daughter's friend has promised to quit smoking.  Score another point for the good guys.

I continue to have some emotional ups and downs, as one would expect of anyone in this situation.  Today has been filled with some wonderful, peaceful moments as well.  Prayer with Shari.  Gorgeous clouds on the horizon as the weather changes.  Conversations with friends from coast to coast.

I spent some time journaling out on the patio this morning--wrapping my head around some differences of opinion between myself and some dear friends about our contrasting definitions of what it means to be passionate about God.  I came to peace once more with the knowledge that the Creator and I are on better terms than ever before in my life.  I released their opinions back to them while appreciating the spirit of their prayers for my personal spiritual revival.

One of the things I've had reaffirmed to me over the past 7 days...count 'em, 7...I went into the hospital a six days and 11 hours ago...is that the path I've been traveling due to various crises (a friend wrongly convicted of a serious crime, various health issues with beloved parents and family members, the long overdue resolution of traumatic events that occured when I was very young), has been preparation of sorts for this latest challenge.

My relationship with God when I was young was full of fire and conviction, it is true.  But like the strength I displayed in my younger years, it was also brittle, rule-bound, and shallow rooted.

The relationship I treasure with our Creator now is one that has been tempered in the crucible of unfair and inexplicable losses; one that has been affirmed in the darkest, most surreal moments of real life; one that has been given to me so graciously and freely by a God who (as Todd said) loves me and wants me to be happy and yet, in the paradox that infuses the juxtaposition of human and divine, is also one that I've had to wrest from the ashes when it seemed like God doesn't really care at all.

I couldn't walk this path without my husband.  I couldn't face the climb without my family.  I wouldn't have the strength to contemplate tomorrow without my friends.  And without my creator, I'd have no reason to hope in either the journey or the outcome.

I am truly blessed to have all of these folks, from God to husband, from family who are friends to friends who are family, all of them on "team Laura."

About 12 years ago, I was walking in Old Town Pasadena with Dan.  He turned a corner or poked his head into a shop and so I was alone for a few moments.  A woman with a baby stroller (and an adorable toddler in the stroller) walked up to me with a bemused expression on her face.

"I'm sorry to bother you," she said.  I think she took my arm and went on to say, "You have the most amazing aura surrounding you.  I would love to do a reading for you."

I thanked her but told her I'm not really big into "that sort of thing."

She looked a bit surprised (I guess people with amazing auras should be open to aura readings), and quickly assured me that she didn't want to charge me...she just wanted to do the reading.  She also said something that's a bit fuzzy in my memory, but it had to do with "good news."

I shook my head and said no thanks, going on my way as Dan joined up with me.  I don't think the woman was happy with my decision but I've often wondered what it is she saw and what it is she would have "read" from the spiritual emanation she perceived.  I remain fairly skeptical about such things although I'm less dogmatic about my religious beliefs than I was back then.

For some reason, that memory has come back to me since the diagnosis.  I suppose it could be grasping at straws, but it feels more like an affirmation of the peace I've been occasionally suffused with as we (Dan and I) wander this ill-marked path into the unknown.

Difficulties will abound, I am sure.  Frustrations, moments of hopelessness and tears aplenty.  But I am also sure that good things are coming in at least equal measure. 

It occurs to me that what the woman saw had very little to do with me and very much to do with the love and support, the humor and deep, abiding affection I enjoy from my friends and my family.  Surrounding me.  Infusing me with strength for the journey.

I don't need a reading to tell me about that.  It's here, right now.

Thank you.

Dad and his friend, John, play golf together every Tuesday and Thursday. They like to get out early.  I think I've overheard John say that the reason for this is that if you have a lousy game, there's still most of a day to turn things around. 

Since I'd stayed over to play golf with Dad, John, and my brother, Dean, this morning--I found myself being roused from sleep by a tap on the door at 5:07 a.m.  I've long since discovered that even though I don't enjoy getting up early, there are certain things that make it more than worthwhile.  Golf with Dad, John and Dean definitely qualifies as "worth it."

When we got to the course, there were only two other cars in the parking lot.  Die hards, too, no doubt.  We were quickly joined by Dean and John, teeing off at about 6:15 a.m.

The round didn't start well for me.  I shot a six on the first hole (these are all par 3's) and a five on the second.  Pretty much, I averaged 5 per hole from there until the 7th hole.  Then things started to slowly pull together and by the back 9, I had three pars in a row at one point.

I was glad that Moira never showed up during the bad holes.  I suspect that her no-show was due to some self-talk prior to the game where I figured out my goals (enjoy time with men I love, practice my game...which it's needed a lot of lately).

We had a very enjoyable round...everyone had shots that were great and everyone had shots that were less than stellar.  But as Dad pointed out, only one of us got a birdie.

Congrats, Dad!

Yesterday was the annual Baldridge Thanksgiving Party.  We held it at Dad and Sally's clubhouse and nearly everyone from the family was able to attend.

We missed having Heather Baldridge (Dennis's daughter) due to work conflicts.  Unable to attend due to military obligations were Darrell Baldridge (the younger) and Jay Tuculet (Amy's husband).  And we also missed Vic Baldridge and Dad's niece Martha and her son, Matt.

Still, we managed to have fun and eat way too much food...even though the menu was pared down from prior years.  I don't know if our stomachs are shrinking or what!  At any rate, the food (brought potluck style) was all delicious.  A new favorite was the mac and cheese casserole brought by Pamela's daughter, Sarah, and her new hubby, Jason.

One of the funnier moments in the day took place when Pam brought in an altered (and filched) "Yes on 8" poster.  She had modified it to say "Yes on Grandchildren" with the url www.hopefulgrandparents.org.  Wonder if that's real now that I've built a link!  Jason and Sarah held their own, joking that they'd warned Pam if she brought it up one more time it would be a looooong time before she saw a grandbaby.

It reminded me of the time Dan and I were visiting his grandmother and I noticed a bare spot in a wall of photos.  All unawares, I asked, "What's this spot for, Grandma?"

"Why that's for your children, dear," she replied.  Walked straight into that one.

Before we tucked into our traditional Thanksgiving spread, Dale talked for a bit about the family members we'd lost this past year, about how grateful he is for the way we come together and support each other during times of difficulty, and for how we keep traditions of coming together for events like Thanksgiving.

We have a lot to be thankful for, this Baldridge crew.  We come from different stripes politically, work a wide variety of jobs (or not at all), have myriad life experiences and points of view.  And we all manage to love each other and get along, despite differences (and plenty of ribbing).  Maybe the teasing is part of the reason we get along.  None of us take ourselves too seriously...and when we start to, the others remind us we're only human.

And that's enough.

Sorry about confusing the two days in yesterday's blog.  I meant to say Veteran's Day.  Thanks to those of you who corrected me (and to those of you who skipped right over it?  Well, you were in good company).

It is appropriate that today was the day of Uncle Stretch's funeral--the day after Veteran's Day and the cemetary was full of flags.  We started the day in Apple Valley under the compassionate and gracious care of Pastor Becky Sage of the Church in the Valley.  She spoke with wit, reverence and insight in talking about Uncle Stretch's life, his love of Annie, and his struggle these past two years without her.

It's been a long, difficult day.  Made easier by the company of family and friends.  And the faith that God's mercy is stronger than our darkest moments.

Godspeed, Uncle Stretch.  Be at peace.