From Melanie to Myrna (A Reply to Help)

So...remember when I was a teenager and we would occasionally find ourselves watching television together? You would cry when certain commercials came on. Every time we watched the Kleenex commercial, you cried...I mean EVERY time. I said something to you one time and you got up, angry with me because I told you that you had seen the commercial about fifty times, and you didn't need to cry over it anymore. I think I said something like, "Oh, my, gosh...get over it all ready." You cried more. Before you stormed off you said something along the lines of, "I can't wait until you have children, and the doctors hook your tear ducts up." I think you prayed for that...because it happened. :)

What you are telling me sounds like the Mom I remember from my youth. Not someone who is weak, just someone who is connected. I would rather you cry, than not feel connected. As for the worry part...I think Grandma Smith told you that you were a ninety year old woman who worried too much, and you were a young mother at the time. Old dogs continue to perform their old tricks? You can dress a monkey in pearls and a skirt and it's still a monkey? Even when you took Zoloft you worried....

As to the Elderly. We are supposed to feel for them. President Monson still tears up when he talks of his visits with his 85 widows. He talks tenderly of them and about them. We don't need to worry for them though. I believe the Lord has them here to teach us lessons, like he does of the mentally handicapped. We know they are precious in the sight of God. They are being reserved here on earth to earn their bodies. Maybe their spirits need more time for refinement...we will know all things soon enough. For now, enjoy them. 

One time when I was holding Dorothy H.'s hand, I was talking with her and telling her about my busy morning. She hasn't been able to talk for ten years. While I was explaining to her why I not as happy as usually, she looked in to my eyes, gave my hand the biggest squeeze that she had been able to ever give, and smiled. I looked in to her beautiful blue eyes, and the spirit bore testimony to me that God knew her. I then had the impression that I was supposed to tell her that. I said, "Dorothy, I know God loves you. He is mindful of you and He hasn't forgotten you." She started to cry. I started to cry. Whenever I walked in the room after that, she would find me and hold my hand. I still cry when I think of that moment. Whenever I was with those people, I treasured my time. I would be so sad when I would go in one day, and find out that one of my best friends had died. At first it affected me greatly, then I realized how happy they were to be rid of that infirm body and to once again be reunited with spouses and children who had passed on before. 

In the research that I have done, the music that we have loved for years and sung for years: hymns, Primary songs, patriotic songs, etc. are keys to unlocking the mind. There were many patients that I worked with that were content to sit and observe, not being able to speak or communicate in any way, but as soon as I started singing songs from the 40s or 50s, hymns or play songs, there would be a spark in their eyes, and they would start moving their hands and singing along. When I was singing to a woman named Rita, she started singing with me. Her daughter, who visited multiple times a week, walked in, stopped and listened to us (I couldn't see her, she was behind me). Rita looked up to her and sang her a song. The daughter commenced to sob. It was the first time in years that she had heard anything other than babbles coming from her mom. The daughter continues to sing to her mom daily as part of their morning routine, and they share many smiles and hugs afterward. 

I have been studying about hope. There is so little of it in our world anymore...and because their is so little, people despair. 

Elder Uchtdor spoke in the April 2013 General Conference about Hope. 
"There may be some among you who feel darkness encroaching upon you. You may feel burdened by worry, fear, or doubt. To you and to all of us, I repeat a wonderful and certain truth: God’s light is real. It is available to all! It gives life to all things. It has the power to soften the sting of the deepest wound. It can be a healing balm for the loneliness and sickness of our souls. In the furrows of despair, it can plant the seeds of a brighter hope. It can enlighten the deepest valleys of sorrow. It can illuminate the path before us and lead us through the darkest night into the promise of a new dawn.

"This is 'the Spirit of Jesus Christ,' which gives 'light to every man that cometh into the world.' Nevertheless, spiritual light rarely comes to those who merely sit in darkness waiting for someone to flip a switch. It takes an act of faith to open our eyes to the Light of Christ. Spiritual light cannot be discerned by carnal eyes. Jesus Christ Himself taught, 'I am the light which shineth in darkness, and the darkness comprehendeth it not.' For 'the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.'

"...The very moment you begin to seek your Heavenly Father, in that moment, the hope of His light will begin to awaken, enliven, and ennoble your soul. The darkness may not dissipate all at once, but as surely as night always gives way to dawn, the light will come....Lift up your soul in prayer and explain to your Heavenly Father what you are feeling. Acknowledge your shortcomings. Pour out your heart and express your gratitude. Let Him know of the trials you are facing. Plead with Him in Christ’s name for strength and support. Ask that your ears may be opened, that you may hear His voice. Ask that your eyes may be opened, that you may see His light" ("The Hope of God's Light," Ensign, May 2013, 75). 

"Hope is a thing with feathers, that perches in the heart." ~ Emily Dickinson

Allow yourself to feel hope. Mom...worry about the things you can change. AnnMarie will tell you that. I know she worries, but she knows that she is one person who can only do so much, and where she falls short, she asks for God's help. Wherever you don't feel like you have hope, it is the adversary working on you. Where faith and hope are, fear and doubt can not reside. Instead of gardening a weed bed of fear and doubt, plant flowers of hope and faith. Hope on. 

Love you much!

Mel

I escaped the Grim Reaper again! (Knock on wood.)‏

I am OK. The radiologist was at the hospital this morning. Therefore, she was there to give a review of the mammogram the technician made of the left breast. I just have dense tissue and she did not even have me take the sonogram, even though one had been ordered.

I called to make an appointment at the hospital Friday, after I received a letter that there was a problem and I needed to have further tests done. I couldn't get in until the 14th. I did find out, from Julie, that there is a woman's clinic at Utah Valley. However, you have to have a doctor's referral if you got a letter telling you that you needed follow up attention. 

I called Dr. Jones and requested one. Dad and I both wanted to know what was happening sooner than the 14th. Shawna, his nurse, said she thought that I was going to be just fine and I would not need to go north. However, she talked to Dr. Jones. He said the baseline and all of my information were in Nephi and he thought I should stay. However, he knew the radiologist was at the hospital that morning. He came on the line and talked to me. He pulled strings so I could be seen at 11:30 a.m. and get the results right away. I saw him rushing down the hallway right after I had finished and I was able to thank him.

Apparently I have "dense" tissue. This was the same area that, in 2007, caused concern. I do need to make certain that I go in every year and not in 18-months the way I have been doing. Although the radiologist said that she recommends "every year or so" for postmenopausal women. In the hallway, Dr. Jones said that I should be on the every year schedule and he would see that I was sent a card annually to remind me. I used to go every December, my birth month, but decided, this year, to change to May for Mother's Day. It is less hectic.

I feel blessed. I may have to suffer from some problem in the future but, for now, I am spared.

Melanie wrote: Just as I thought. Thank you for gifting to me that fibrous, dense tissue.

Myrna wrote to Melanie: Who would have thought you would get that from me? I told Dad that I barely have any tissue so I don't understand why what I do have is fibrous and dense.

David Childs wrote: Good news!  Every hurdle cleared is always good news.

Take care - I love you! :)

Myrna wrote to David: You are right. Thanks for the cheery outlook. I need you in my life. I love you!

Amy Jacobs Trauntvein wrote: Yes, you should be going every year!!!  I'm glad that things worked out. If you do ever decide to come up north I could do yours for you and get the Dr. to look at it right then also.  Let me know.

Amy

Myrna wrote: Amy:  It sounds like a good idea to me!

Well, so now I get to worry.

Mom, 
I went through the same thing last year. I did go to a women's center, and they always read the scans twice, and called me back. Some women's breast tissue is dense (like mine) and fibrous (which I think you told me yours was), which leads them to want to look more in depth. Some insurance companies haggle over the follow up reading, which is dumb. Yes, it is now your responsibility to call your insurance company and check on the coverage and what claims you have the right to. Good thing with Obama care, this should be covered. 

I actually found your choice of words quite funny, "soonest they can squeeze me in..." 

I will pray for you. I know first hand how un-nerving these tests are. 

Mel

Myrna wrote: And, unlike your mom, you just handled it. I could have worried and prayed with you if I had known. You are so brave. This is the second time that this has happened to me.

"Squeeze." Some unintended puns are better than planned ones. Hehe.

As the doctor told me, nothing is certain in this world, but some good things in our lives make our chances of any form of cancer smaller:

Myrna wrote: 

1. We have never smoked.
2. We don't consume alcohol.
3. We eat healthy foods, and have stayed within healthy weight ranges for most of our lives.
4. We had multiple pregnancies and nursed for many years.
5. We take preventive action, which will increase our mortality.
6. We exercise which reduces our chances of breast cancer by nearly 45%. 

All of those factors give us more hope than fear. Even at the risk of having breast cancer, it has a 90% survival rate, if detected early. Howard's sister is a cancer survivor of 22 years. I have friends in Massachusetts who are survivors of breast cancer, and have happy, productive lives...still serving at the temple and helping with grandchildren. 

Glad you found your word choice humorous as well. 

Mel

Myrna wrote: Thanks for the information and encouraging words. Dr. Jones called a few minutes ago and told me that he was trying to "squeeze" me into today's lineup so that the procedure could be done more quickly. He did not want me to go north because they have all my baseline information here. I laughed at his word choice, as well. He then giggled and said he would "fit" me in. Then he said, "There are no good word choices here."

Melanie wrote: Humor is a panacea. :)

Now I Get to Worry!

I just got the results of my mammography back printed on pretty pink paper and enclosed in a pretty pink envelope. I was told that I need to get a further mammography and an ultrasound of the left breast. So I called the hospital in Nephi. The soonest they can squeeze me in is on the 14th at 10 a.m. The scare that the letter puts into you to go right away must only mean that you stay scared for two weeks.

"This may require additional authorization from your insurance company." And just what does that mean? "It is your responsibility to inform any new health care provider of the date and location of this examination."

This is exactly what I went through once before. Julie suggested that I bypass my hospital here and go up to the Woman's Center at Utah Valley Hospital where they do on-site evaluations after the ultrasound and mammography are finished and then talk to you right away so that you do not have to wait on pins and needles for one more week, which is what I would have to do here.

I think I will call them in the a.m. and find out what I could do. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I already felt too mortal and that life was too short. So here I get to worry.

Because of Charlotte and my dad's oldest sister, who died with breast cancer, I am considered at "increased risk" over the general populace.

To Myrna from Melanie (A Reply to Help)

So...remember when I was a teenager and we would occasionally find ourselves watching television together? You would cry when certain commercials came on. Every time we watched the Kleenex commercial, you cried...I mean EVERY time. I said something to you one time and you got up, angry with me because I told you that you had seen the commercial about fifty times, and you didn't need to cry over it anymore. I think I said something like, "Oh, my, gosh...get over it all ready." You cried more. Before you stormed off you said something along the lines of, "I can't wait until you have children, and the doctors hook your tear ducts up." I think you prayed for that...because it happened. :)

What you are telling me sounds like the Mom I remember from my youth. Not someone who is weak, just someone who is connected. I would rather you cry, than not feel connected. As for the worry part...I think Grandma Smith told you that you were a ninety year old woman who worried too much, and you were a young mother at the time. Old dogs continue to perform their old tricks? You can dress a monkey in pearls and a skirt and it's still a monkey? Even when you took Zoloft you worried....

As to the Elderly. We are supposed to feel for them. President Monson still tears up when he talks of his visits with his 85 widows. He talks tenderly of them and about them. We don't need to worry for them though. I believe the Lord has them here to teach us lessons, like he does of the mentally handicapped. We know they are precious in the sight of God. They are being reserved here on earth to earn their bodies. Maybe their spirits need more time for refinement...we will know all things soon enough. For now, enjoy them. 

One time when I was holding Dorothy H.'s hand, I was talking with her and telling her about my busy morning. She hasn't been able to talk for ten years. While I was explaining to her why I not as happy as usually, she looked in to my eyes, gave my hand the biggest squeeze that she had been able to ever give, and smiled. I looked in to her beautiful blue eyes, and the spirit bore testimony to me that God knew her. I then had the impression that I was supposed to tell her that. I said, "Dorothy, I know God loves you. He is mindful of you and He hasn't forgotten you." She started to cry. I started to cry. Whenever I walked in the room after that, she would find me and hold my hand. I still cry when I think of that moment. Whenever I was with those people, I treasured my time. I would be so sad when I would go in one day, and find out that one of my best friends had died. At first it affected me greatly, then I realized how happy they were to be rid of that infirm body and to once again be reunited with spouses and children who had passed on before. 

In the research that I have done, the music that we have loved for years and sung for years: hymns, Primary songs, patriotic songs, etc. are keys to unlocking the mind. There were many patients that I worked with that were content to sit and observe, not being able to speak or communicate in any way, but as soon as I started singing songs from the 40s or 50s, hymns or play songs, there would be a spark in their eyes, and they would start moving their hands and singing along. When I was singing to a woman named Rita, she started singing with me. Her daughter, who visited multiple times a week, walked in, stopped and listened to us (I couldn't see her, she was behind me). Rita looked up to her and sang her a song. The daughter commenced to sob. It was the first time in years that she had heard anything other than babbles coming from her mom. The daughter continues to sing to her mom daily as part of their morning routine, and they share many smiles and hugs afterward. 

I have been studying about hope. There is so little of it in our world anymore...and because their is so little, people despair. 

Elder Uchtdorf spoke in the April 2013 General Conference about Hope. 

"There may be some among you who feel darkness encroaching upon you. You may feel burdened by worry, fear, or doubt. To you and to all of us, I repeat a wonderful and certain truth: God’s light is real. It is available to all! It gives life to all things. It has the power to soften the sting of the deepest wound. It can be a healing balm for the loneliness and sickness of our souls. In the furrows of despair, it can plant the seeds of a brighter hope. It can enlighten the deepest valleys of sorrow. It can illuminate the path before us and lead us through the darkest night into the promise of a new dawn. "This is 'the Spirit of Jesus Christ,' which gives 'light to every man that cometh into the world.' Nevertheless, spiritual light rarely comes to those who merely sit in darkness waiting for someone to flip a switch. It takes an act of faith to open our eyes to the Light of Christ. Spiritual light cannot be discerned by carnal eyes. Jesus Christ Himself taught, 'I am the light which shineth in darkness, and the darkness comprehendeth it not.' For 'the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.'

"...The very moment you begin to seek your Heavenly Father, in that moment, the hope of His light will begin to awaken, enliven, and ennoble your soul. The darkness may not dissipate all at once, but as surely as night always gives way to dawn, the light will come....Lift up your soul in prayer and explain to your Heavenly Father what you are feeling. Acknowledge your shortcomings. Pour out your heart and express your gratitude. Let Him know of the trials you are facing. Plead with Him in Christ’s name for strength and support. Ask that your ears may be opened, that you may hear His voice. Ask that your eyes may be opened, that you may see His light" ("The Hope of God's Light," Ensign, May 2013, 75). 

"Hope is a thing with feathers, that perches in the heart." ~ Emily Dickinson

Allow yourself to feel hope. Mom...worry about the things you can change. AnnMarie will tell you that. I know she worries, but she knows that she is one person who can only do so much, and where she falls short, she asks for God's help. Wherever you don't feel like you have hope, it is the adversary working on you. Where faith and hope are, fear and doubt can not reside. Instead of gardening a weed bed of fear and doubt, plant flowers of hope and faith. Hope on. 

Love you much!

Mel

Myrna wrote: I'm printing this off to read over and over. You have given me the perfect answer and I do appreciate your words, your time and your love. I am so thankful that Heavenly Father sent you to bless my life. I love you! Mom

Tears

I stopped taking Zoloft last year. The only problem is that now I feel anxious lots of the time. I don't know if it is because of that or just because I have gotten old. (AnnMarie told me, when I cried when I was telling her about Gay Sperry at the assisted living center, that it is just what women my age do.) However, I don't know many of the old women I work with on a weekly basis at the temple who are like this. I seem to cry at the least provocation. I have joined the tearful at church. I have some concerns about myself.

Dr. Mark Jones, my local GP, said he did not think that those symptoms were worth taking medication because I am not really depressed. Nevertheless, Dad keeps telling me that I can just "be happy" if I choose to be. However, last night he said, that I needed to stop crying and if I took a pill it might help.

Things worry me. For example, we were supposed to watch Julie's kids just on Wednesday day so that she could go to Scout daycamp. We will also have AnnMarie's two youngest and will have David's three (he is going to a friend's wedding in ElPaso to be bestman. Bree is matron-of-honor. Julie is certain that something horrible will happen because I will not have enough control. Dad, she said, doesn't really tend kids well. So I cried.

We have our temple devotional on Sunday but have decided that it is more important to be with David's kids who don't really like to go to church here anyway. I concurred with the decision but then I cried.

Providing Sacrament Meeting at the assisted living center is, in some ways, a joy. In other ways, it makes me cry. I see the folks I have worked with for so many years, dying by inches and, many of them, losing their identity. AnnMarie said that the their spirits are still there and they are but they have no memory and I wonder how they even manage to keep breathing. Yet, a few can still sing all the words to the hymns (we help them find the pages because it makes them happy but they do not read the words).

I also know that I will die in the next few years. I just will. So will Dad. I tease that I have 30-years worth of projects ahead but I do not have that long to live. I love being alive. I like being with grandkids and watching, even from afar, as they succeed. If Dad goes first, I wonder how brave I can be. I really don't enjoy being alone. At one time, it didn't bother me to have alone time. Now I usually go find where he is.

I love working at the temple. I work with great people with strong testimonies. I get teary-eyed there, as well. We are doing the Adam and Eve part quite often because everyone knows that we will be moving to Payson Temple, and maybe they won't even need us as workers. If they do, we will not get to do those parts ever again. That makes me cry.

I wonder, also, what I have done with my life. I seem to have spent it, somehow. I am like Garth, "Have I been good enough?" Sometimes I have not been.

I cry when I am happy. I cry when I am proud of my loved ones. I cry when I am spiritual. I cry when I am sentimental. I cry when I am worried. I cry when I am angry. I cry when I am sick. I cry when I am sad. I cry.

So there you have it, I just cry a lot.