Why I Will Wear Lipstick

The movie, "Why I Wore Lipstick to My Mastectomy" by Geralyn Lucas was on the Lifetime Channel this past Monday night. For anyone who may have missed it or who didn't know even anything about it, you have another opportunity to see it this Saturday night. The Lifetime channel is rebroadcasting the movie at 9:00 p.m.

I first learned about this book about two months ago when I was out shopping one afternoon. A woman in her early 30s, who recognized my telltale signs of chemo, approached me to share her own personal story of breast cancer. She recommended this book, but I never did pick it up. Then this past Sunday, I learned during my Young Breast Cancer Victors (YBCV) gathering that the book had been turned into a movie and was being aired Monday evening. A couple of people even called me to let me know about it. (Thank you, Ann and Auntie Jo!) My sister-in-law, Julie also mentioned it in her blog comment on Monday.

Jeralyn was only 27 when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. When I think about what a total basket case I was at the age of 27, it makes me really appreciate the courage, emotional capacity, and sense of humor this woman had to deal with her diagnosis at such a young age. Okay, I wasn't a total basket case, but I certainly didn't have the inner strength, maturity, and benefit of life experience I now have, nor did I have the entire, incredible support system that presently surrounds me. I admire all of the very young women who are forced to face a disease that is likely to be more aggressive and serious when it strikes women in their 20s and 30s.

Bo and I watched the movie together, and he enjoyed it as much as I did. There were many moments that elicited tears and just as many that elicited laughter. I could relate to much of what Geralyn experienced such as feeling like a fraud while wearing a wig. There were other things she expressed that I didn't ever encounter such as thinking of herself as damaged goods and fear that her husband would leave her as a result of this imperfection. The whole strip club visit never crossed my mind; although if it had, the closest thing we have to that type of establishment in Williamsburg is the oh so controversial Hooters. I also haven't done the wet t-shirt prance in front of the construction workers, but... hmmm... I still have six days left...

This movie reinforced for me that while many women may share the common experience of breast cancer, we all have our unique responses to it, our own ways of processing through it, and our own paths to healing.

So why will I wear lipstick to my mastectomy? Because Julie told me to. Today when I returned home from my pre-op appointment with Dr. H, there were two packages waiting for me. Julie had sent me a copy of Jeralyn's book. She had also sent me at tube of brilliantly red shade of lipstick called "Fire Down Below" with a note, "Wear lipstick to your mastectomy." I laughed, and I got a little misty eyed too. I loved the message of support, encouragement, and pure spunk that Julie was sending to me through that tube of undeniable, kick ass, red lipstick. So I will wear "Fire Down Below" next Wednesday for me and for all of the other women in this sisterhood of breast cancer. Cancer may take our breasts, it may take our hair, it may even someday take our lives, but it will never steal our spirits or the fire deep within all of us! You go girls!!

I wonder how many women will go to their mastectomies armed with lipstick as a result of Geralyn...

You Won't Find This Camisole at Victoria's Secret

Well, the surgery date is fast approaching - a week from Wednesday. It doesn't seem to be bothering me that I have only nine more days to spend with my breasts. I am sure if that means I am in acceptance mode or in total denial...

Last week, a woman from Sentara Home Health Care called to discuss the surgical camisoles she had ordered for me and that would be delivered to my hospital room on the day of surgery. She asked if I would be having reconstruction. If not, the camisoles could be worn for four to six weeks until I could be fitted for a prosthesis (or two as the case may be), and she would be available to help me with that process, if necessary. The camisoles even come with "puffs" that can give my figure a little bit of shape in the meantime. She was very kind, but at that moment, the reality started to sink in, and I felt tears begin to well up. Then I reminded myself that the surgery, while making me breast-free would also make me cancer-free, and they were, afterall, just breasts. The moment passed.

Dr. P, my faithful and beloved oncologist called to say she had been in touch with Dr. B, the "boob dude" or as he may prefer to be recognized, the plastic surgeon. Dr. B is not a proponent of what I have dubbed the "saddlebag" flap surgery (the medically correct name is the Ruben flap) and told Dr. P it leaves patients with a lot of pain. So Dr. P said we are back to the following two options:

Option 1: I can have tissue expanders placed at the time of surgery on both the right and left sides. It would take about three months for the tissue to expand to the point where implants can be inserted. This would delay the radiation treatment by several months. Then I would run the risk of damage to the right implant when it is radiated. Dr. B says in his experience, the damage is infrequent and isn't anything he couldn't fix. Both Dr. P and Dr. G (the radiation doctor) do not feel it is a problem to delay radiation. (When I asked Dr. G she said it wouldn't impact the efficacy of the radiation either.) It does make monitoring of the chest wall more difficult, but Dr. P said, when asked, my risk of local recurrence is in the single digits. Nonetheless, Dr. H, my surgeon was quite opposed to this option.

Option 2: I can wait six months until after surgery and then have an implant on the left side. (The left side is not undergoing radiation; therefore, there will be no damage to the tissue and it can be stretched at that time.) An implant will no longer be possible on the right side as the skin will have been radiated and will no longer be e-x-p-a-n-d-a-b-l-e. Dr. B can then do flap surgery using the lattisimus muscle from my back shoulder. This will result in significantly reduced strength on the right side and a large scar down my back.

Now if you are wondering, as I was, why my options are so limited, here's the deal: Most women have either a lumpectomy with radiation and therefore, don't need reconstruction, or they have a mastectomy without radiation so they don't have to worry about radiation damaging the implant (or if they do have a mastectomy with radiation, most women have enough abdominal tissue to do flap surgery.) Because I had lymph node involvement and because of my young age (yes, 41 is still young - especially when dealing with breast cancer), my doctors have advocated the most aggressive treatment plan possible, and I have chosen to follow their recommendations. Back to THE DECISION ( or at least the latest decision).

I have used all techniques at my disposal to make a decision:

I have applied rational thought and extensively considered the pros and cons of each option, listing them in alphabetically order on an 81/2 x 11 sheet of paper.
I have applied emotional thought about how it will feel to be without breasts and to have scars where my breasts once reigned, poised ever so slightly over the rest of terrain.
I have prayed for the solution and listened for a quiet voice to tell me what to do.
I have thrown the question out to the universe and waited for the answer to appear on a billboard or tatooed on my forehead.
I have posed the question to my subconscious before going to bed, hoping to awaken with the response immediately apparent to my conscious mind.

To no avail... nine days out, and I still don't know what to do which I think means that I do know what to do. I am going to wait until after surgery and see how I am. That will pretty much eliminate option 1, but it doesn't make reconstruction in the future an impossibility. Okay, I feel so much better now that I have written that down. Barring any tattooes mysteriously appearing on my forehead, THE DECISION is made. Can you hear the deep sigh of relief I just released?

Now, back to the conversation with Dr. P. When she told me my risk of local recurrence was in the single digits, I asked her what my risk of distant recurrence was. After I asked, I wondered if I could take the question back, and as she took her time responding, I almost told her I didn't want to hear the number. Afterall, I am not a statistic, I am unique, and I already know that I will not have breast cancer again.

Nonetheless, I was pleased to hear the answer she gave after she gazed into her crystal ball (punched some data into a computer program): With a mastectomy only, 40 out of 100 women with my situation (size, lymph node involvement, grade, etc.) will have a recurrence. Once combined with chemo and hormonal treatment, however, only ten out of those 40 will have a recurrence. I felt very comforted by the statistics even while recognizing my own individuality and my unique DNA.

Now that I have made my decision about holding off on reconstruction, and I think about what else to write before I conclude this posting, I can't help but wonder if the universe did speak to me earlier today, or if my prayers were answered through a quiet voice...

Clay awoke last night complaining about his legs, arms, neck, and abdomen hurting. He was running a slight temperature this morning, so I took him to his pediatrician. It turns out the one part of his body that wasn't hurting was the one creating his illness. He has strep throat.

I hadn't seen this Dr. G since my diagnosis, but Bo had told her about me the last time he was there with Lance. At that time she shared with Bo that she had had a double mastectomy. She asked me how I was doing and I brought her up to speed. She had her surgery five years ago and never had reconstruction. She spoke openly her experience, and I appreciated her honesty, candor and genuine concern. She mentioned that the only time the prosthesis is really uncomfortable is in the summer when the weather gets hot and sticky, and then the prosthesis gets hot and sticky. However, there is now a new and improved version that has a fabric lining, and this helps. She recommended Nordstrom's for all my post-mastectomy needs. Most importantly, she shared that for her, breasts aren't her identity, and that her attendance at future graduations, weddings, etc. is what is really important.

And so as I reflect back on this event, I realize I received a subtle sign, this message from a very successful women who is so self-assured, yet comforting, confident, yet calm - our hearts, minds, and souls embody the true strength and spirit of womanhood, not our breasts. Maybe this "sign" isn't as dramatic and blatant as a billboard broadcasting "Don't go with option 1," but it is far more powerful.

I Am Back!

... from my unintended blog break. It has been over a week since my last confession, I mean update.

No, this last round of chemo did not kick my butt. It has been like all of the others, pretty mild. (Although my fingernails have come pretty close to abandoning their beds. Darn that Gloria for ever mentioning this particularly undesirable side effect. Luckily, while not pretty at the moment, my nails are apparently as resilient as my last three eyelashes, and are staying put. The chemo gods have been merciful.)

And no, I am not recovering from too much celebrating. In fact, I have pretty much given up alchohol, except for the occasional glass of red wine. (I have read studies that women with a history of breast cancer should avoid alcohol.)

And no, chemo brain has not completely drained me of all of my "intellectual" capabilities. While my short term memory is pretty shot, my writing is fairly intact. Did I mention that my writing is fairly intact?

Instead, my temporary departure from blogging is due to an overactive calendar. I have actually been way busier than usual between family, friends, work, volunteer activities, and medical appointments. The stars must have aligned in a certain way for all these activities to converge in the last two weeks, but it is all good stuff!

The day after my last posting, my brother, John came to visit, along with Eric, my two nephews, Kyle, and Daniel, their beloved Nanny, Janine, and a soaking Nor'easter. They visited for five days, except for the Nor'easter which only lasted for two days and but still managed to back up our septic system. With ten people in the house, we had to improvise, which wasn't that difficult when eight of the ten are male! Five of those eight were between the ages of two and eight, so it was a little busy around our house. We did fit in a day at Busch Gardens and a movie, and lots of good meals, of course. John and I played as much Scrabble as we could squeeze in!! It was great to see everyone and saying "good bye" was made a little easier by knowing they are returning to spend Christmas with us.

Then Bo and I took off for a little trip of our own. We just returned from Delray Beach, Florida after a much needed and incredibly enjoyable weekend spent with some of my (and by extension, Bo's) very closest friends. Dad and Laura graciously agreed to move into our house and watch the boys during our absence, so we were able to spend the weekend "sans enfants". (Intellectual diminishment? Ha! Obviously not!) We actually ate our way across South Florida from Boca Raton to West Palm Beach while enjoying the company of the many special people from my former Office Depot days.

Upon our arrival, we were greeted by John and Lori and treated to dinner at a very good Mexican restaurant. (While Bo and I lived down there, we searched fruitlessly for decent Mexican food, and I went about a year with regular salsa fixes!) In addition to being a very good friend, Lori was also one of my first clients. She will soon be leaving corporate America for the exhilerating world of business ownership.

Carrie and Melissa opened their home, hearts, and refrigerator to us, as usual. They had a few new toys for us to enjoy including Carrie's self-confessed mid-life crisis car, a Honda S2000 convertible and a fun little scooter for "cruising" Atlantic Ave. They promised to give us a ride in their restored 1923 Model T Ford when we come visit again. They prepared an awesome dinner followed by a decadent desert of chocolate fondue. I had told Carrie that I have pretty much given up dessert except for fruit but that chocolate is always a good choice. Being the great friend she is, she managed both in one dessert. Also present for that dinner were two other friends, Janet and Elizabeth.

Bo and I also squeezed in lunch at my favorite Italian restaurant on Atlantic Ave. We knew we were back in South Florida by the cars we saw, a Lotus here, a Ferari there, a Bentley over there. Oh yea, that would be Tim's car (my former boss). We got to see Tim, along with another one of my favorite bosses, Tom at happy hour one evening at Boston's on the Beach.

Yes, we were quite full by then, but it was on to Jill and Greg's for brunch and our first ever visit with Dylan, their ten-month old son. He was full of smiles for us, and just thinking about his happy little face planted joy in my heart for the rest of the day.

We tracked down a Yugoslavian family we had met and had befriended while we lived Florida. They invited us over and much to our surprise, served us a delicious dinner of Yugoslavian food. It was so wonderful to catch up with them after several years without contact. They gave me a special gift - a picture and blessing of one of their saints who is known for her powerful intervention for women in need. (Sounds like a good one to have on my side at at time like this - and always. I have embraced the prayers from all faiths and believe they are contributing to my overall emotional and physical health while I heal.)

From there, it was on to Vicki and Shawn's, hostess and host extraordinaires, for a party in our honor and our second dinner of the day - a Mexican taco bar with all the fixin's. In addition to the friends I have already mentioned, Judy and her husband, Ken, and Michelle and her significant other, Brian, were there. (Judy, also a very accommodating friend for food preferences, brought fruit and a decadent chocolate cake for dessert!) The group presented me with a special Brighton breast cancer awareness bracelet and a Louise Hay book on healing. I was really touched by the outpouring of support I continue to receive from all of these friends.

I definitely felt the love that night and the whole weekend. It was just what I needed, and I knew that time with these friends would reinforce me and give me the strength and energy that come from being around people who care about you. (I just didn't think it would give me additional poundage - maybe that abdominal flap surgery will be an option now!) The trip was a great escape for me and Bo, and for much of the weekend, I was able to forget about having cancer and the impending surgery. On the other hand, I was also able to have really good conversations about this journey with Carrie, a recent cancer survivor herself, and that was very helpful and healthy for me too.

We arrived home Monday afternoon. When Lance raced over to me and jumped into my arms as soon as he saw me, and Dad and Laura welcomed us home with hugs, I was instantly reminded that I was now back among another group of people who love me. How beautiful and blessed is my life!

As soon as we got settled in, I headed upstairs to... the treadmill, of course!

10-4, Over and Out

Yesterday, October 4, was my last chemo. It is over, and I am out of there! (Out of the drip salon, anyway. My next visit to the office will be a post-surgical appointment with Dr. P in November.) I marked the occasion by baking a coffee cake for the staff and thanking them for the compassionate and competent care I received during my chemo. I won't miss my weekly visits to the office for labwork, shots, or chemo, but I will miss the people, both the staff and other patients.

When I first began chemo, I was put in a private room. Gloria, the oncology nurse told me she wanted to make sure I could behave on my own before putting me in a room with others. Well, I guess it took seven visits to convince her I could play nicely. My last visit today was in a group room. One of the woman I run into frequently was also getting her treatment. She is bravely battling a recurrence. I also met a new patient, Margeaux, who was on her second visit. She still had a full head of hair, so we discussed the merits of hats versus wigs. Bo patiently read the latest issue of one of his deer hunting magazines while we women shared our stories and compared notes.

I was saddened to hear that one of the patients I bumped into frequently, Paula, passed away today from a rare form of ovarian cancer. When I saw her just two weeks ago, she told me that she was going into palliative care. I brought a card in for her today and was going to ask the staff to address it and mail it for me. I was too late....

I had an appointment with Dr. P while I was there. She is still very confident that the tumor has responded to the point that what is left feels like fibrocystic disease, but time will tell. She said that it will take probably take a couple of weeks following the surgery to get the results back and that is when our next appointment will be scheduled.

I asked Dr. P how long before all traces of the chemo are out of my body. She said it takes about six weeks for most of the residual effects to go away. In three months, it should be a distant memory, and in six months, I am back to "normal". I am already seeing the results of the milder form of chemo, Taxotere. My peach fuzz is evolving into a dark fringe. I have heard all kinds of stories about how the hair comes back in differently following chemo. The good news is that it is not coming in blonde. I know from the experience with the blonde wig that looked far better on Bo than me that I do not have the coloring to be blond. It made me look green actually. I also have three new eyelashes coming in to join the valiant four that never deserted me.

While the hair is returning, however, my brain capacity seems to have been diminishing. I have been experiencing chemo brain a lot lately. My memory is the pits, and I sometimes have difficulty gathering my thoughts and communicating coherently. I am confident the fog will lift, but it is good to know I can use the chemo brain excuse for a few more months. It is such a relief to know that with this treatment, I will be experiencing the side effects of chemo for the very last time. You know, I have welcomed the chemo into my body and have never considered it to be anything other than strong medicine on a targeted mission to destroy the cancer, and I can't help but wonder if that helped me tolerate the chemo as well as I did...

Dr. P and I also discussed reconstructions options. She mentioned a patient who is going to New Orleans for flap surgery that uses tissue from the saddlebag area. (She used the correct anatomical terminology, but I don't recall it and you get the picture anyway.) Now that would kill two birds with one stone. She tried to call Dr. B while I was there to see if this may be an option for me, but he was out of the office today. I really appreciate her willingness to help me track down answers for all of my questions. From the very beginning, she has always given me her full attention and a generous allotment of her time. I believe the relationship with your doctors is critical to the healing process, and I know Dr. P has contributed to mine.

After the visit and chemo, I almost danced out of the office. I was on cloud nine in a way that I haven't felt since this whole experience began back in May. Bo and I took the kids out for dinner to celebrate this milestone in my treatment plan. Life is good.

November 1 - The Final Demise of the Cancer

I had an appointment with Dr. H's office last Thursday, and we were able to schedule my surgery for Wednesday, November 1 which is exactly four weeks from my last chemo treatment on October 4. - two dates worth celebrating!

I saw Anna, the nurse practicioner first, and she seemed very encouraged after feeling the tumor. She announced that I have definitely had a response. It is still obviously there, but it feels different and smaller, and she too, said that it is hard to determine what may be dead tissue or inflammation and what may still be viable tumor. I envision it to be all dead. I told her that it has been hurting near the site of the tumor and under my right arm and asked her what that meant. She said that she didn't know but said the dying tissue may be causing the pain. Good. That is what I have been telling myself.

One reason for neo-adjuvant chemotherapy (chemo before surgery) is for prognostic purposes. Women who experience a partial or complete response, are more likely to have a better long-term outcome. A complete response (when the tumor becomes undetectable) is better than a partial response, but any response is a good thing. As Anna pointed out, if the chemo is reducing the size of a fairly large tumor, imagine what it is doing to any microscopic cells that may have settled elsewhere in my body. "Besides", she said, "You will have a CR (complete response) on November 1."

Then Dr. H arrived. He also did a physical exam. He very solemnly said that he recommended a mastectomy due to the size of the original tumor (large) and the size of my breast (small.) His rationale for that recommendation was communicated in a slightly more professional and technical manner, but I just condensed it down to the basics. I told him that he didn't have to try to talk me into a mastectomy because that had been my position from the moment I learned I had cancer. "In fact," I announced, "I want both removed."

Upon hearing this news, he exchanged glances with Anna, and actually pulled her in for reinforcement. "Well, Anna will tell you that the women we see who have bilateral mastectomies have a very difficult time." I asked, "Physically or emotionally?" The response from Dr. H was "Both."

I thought about that for a couple of seconds and then said, "Personally, I think I will do better emotionally if both are removed. Obviously early detection doesn't work really work very well for me." Dr. H said that we would use MRIs to monitor the left side. Hmmm... I tried to envision my future under this proposal, and what I saw were deafening semi-annual dates with the big claustrophobic-inducing metal tube. That isn't even the bad part. What I would really mind is having to return to the biopsy table for the inevitable false positives (or not) and the agony of waiting. Talk about emotionally difficult! I reminded him of the recent study that concluded that 40% of breast cancer patients with a family history of breast cancer develop cancer in the other breast. He said he thought that number was a little high.

I told him if I have both removed I never have to worry about back trouble as a result of being unbalanced. Anna appreciated my positive take on the matter, but Dr. H didn't seem amused. Regardless, I know what I want. I mean, think about it. What good is one going to do me anyway? It is not like I can wear low cut, revealing clothing after the right one is removed (not that I ever did.) My days of nursing infants are over. And Bo is a self-professed derriere man. Leaving one gains me nothing, but having a bilateral mastectomy delivers some peace of mind. I cannot eliminate the possibility of a distant metastatic recurrence in my future, but I can eliminate the possibility of ever developing the same or different type of breast cancer in the unaffected breast by removing it. As far as I am concerned, it's a no-brainer.

I was actually surprised that I wanted a more aggressive approach than he did, but I think his position was to hold off on putting myself through a double mastectomy until we have a pretty good idea that the cancer has not mestasticized elsewhere in my body. Generally, the risk for that is highest in the first 18 months following the initial cancer. How utterly depressing - I just don't think that way.

I received an equally uplifting response when I asked him if he could remove the portacath (used for administration of the chemo) out of my chest at the same time he performed my surgery. He said he could but said that some patients liked to keep it in for awhile in case they needed it again. I looked straight into his eyes and told him that I wasn't going to need it again - ever.

From there, I moved onto the topic of reconstruction, and the conversation didn't get any better. This whole reconstruction thing is still kind of confusing to me, but I will try to explain. I had met with Dr. B, the plastic surgeon, a week earlier. Sure enough, I don't have enough abdominal tissue to do the flap surgery (which uses abdominal muscle, fat, and skin to replace the breast). That seemed to leave implants as my only viable option, but implants require tissue expanders at the time of the mastectomy. This enables the skin to stretch enough for the implants to be inserted later. Since radiated skin won't expand, Dr. B said I would need to postpone radiation for four months until the skin is sufficiently stretched and the implants are ... well, implanted. Dr. B actually discussed this option with Dr. G, the radiologist and Dr. P, my oncologist, and both of them felt the delay wouldn't have any effects on my longterm health. I relayed all of this to Dr. H who said that was an unacceptable option because the radiation damages the implants.

He also did a physical exam and asked me if I had been experiencing any back pain or headaches (signs of mestastacized cancer, I assume), and I said "no." (Reflecting on that question later in the context of the whole visit, my masochistic mind started wondering why he asked that question. Did he know something I didn't? Are there other signs it may have spread? I told my overactive imagination to get a grip, and then I just reminded myself again as I often do that the odds are in my favor for beating this cancer and never having a recurrence. It would be nice to hear him say that though.)

So other than finally getting a date on the calendar for surgery (which my still very structured, anal-retentive self had been long awaiting so I could plan my life accordingly), I left his office feeling incredibly deflated about the entire visit. (I am getting depressed all over again just writing about it!) Even Bo said that he didn't have a very good feeling about things after the visit, so when we left, we went and ate - lunch. Food - the universal anti-depressant! There isn't much a good dose of salsa won't help.

When I returned home, I called Dr. B and told him about the conversation with Dr. H. Dr. B said, "Well, I told you that it wasn't an ideal option, but it's about the only one we have. It is true that radiation damages implants about 50% of the time, but that means 50% of the time, it doesn't damage them. It can be fixed. Of course, there is a more complex form of flap surgery that you may be a candidate for, but no one in the area performs it, so you would need to be referred out for it." He offered to call Dr. H and discuss my situation with him, and I accepted his offer, but I haven't heard back from Dr. B yet.

While I had been on the fence about reconstruction, I was actually leaning towards it after my initial consultation with Dr. B. I got especially excited when I asked him if I could pick the size and he said, "Yes." Then he paused and said, "Well, with some limitations of course, but I could give you a pretty good C cup." I am going to do a little more research before ruling out reconstruction, but I think I will be okay if that popular schoolyard expression "Flat as a board" is used to describe me, as long as it is accompanied by the adjective "HEALTHY".

A Wider Audience

Ever since being diagnosed with cancer, I have tried to make draw meaning from the experience, to learn and grow from it, and to find ways to help others as a result of it. (I believe this one one of the good "symptons" of cancer and many people develop it. For instance, Art, one of the frequent contributors to the comment section of my blog, now runs marathons to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphona Society following his own experience with lymphoma. This weekend, I had the pleasure of meeting The Good Health Fairy, a women who had breast cancer several years ago and now visits breast cancer patients through the Reach for Recovery Progam. So much of the fundraising, awareness, legislation, resources, support groups, organizations, etc. for cancer, are due to patients and former patients becoming activists.)

I have been searching for my own way to contribute to the cause and have decided that building awareness of the disease and how women need to be advocates for their own health is a good start. Last Monday, I sent an e-mail to the editor of a new, local weekly newspaper and told her a little bit about myself. I offered to assist her with any efforts she may have had planned to cover National Breast Cancer Awareness Month in October. She e-mailed me back and asked if I could meet with her the next day. She told me that she had actually been "googling" over the weekend to find out what was significant in October and discovered that is was National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. She was in need of a story for the next edition of the paper and knew she wanted to cover that topic. I don't believe in coincidences anymore. The universe conspired to bring us together, and the results of that conspiracy are available at http://www.toano-norgetimes.com/too_much_pink.htm I am grateful to Rosemary for giving me the opportunity to tell my story and for helping me in my quest to help others in any way I can.