RemarkAble Women Speak

Breast Cancer Petition Protects Women

I just received this from a friend, and am compelled to invite you in on the conversation. It's another example of how health care in the United States is sometimes dangerously misguided. In this case, it is with women who undergo a mastectomy.

A mastectomy is when a woman's breast is removed in order to remove cancerous breast cells/ tissues.  If you know anyone who has had a mastectomy, you may know that there is a lot of discomfort and pain afterwards. Insurance companies are trying to make mastectomies an outpatient procedure. Let's give women the chance to recover properly in the hospital for two days after surgery.

There's a bill called the Breast Cancer Patient Protection Act that is before Congress now.  It will require insurance companies to cover a minimum 48-hour hospital stay for patients undergoing a mastectomy. Its purpose is to eliminate the "drive-through mastectomy" where women are forced to go home just a few hours after surgery, against the wishes of their doctor, still groggy from anesthesia, and sometimes with drainage tubes still attached.

Lifetime Television has put this bill on their web page with a petition drive to show your support. Last year, over half the House signed on. Please sign the petition by clicking on this website. You will be asked for your name, email address, state and zip code.

RemarkAble Women, our voices must be heard on this most important issue.  Every woman who undergoes a mastectomy has a right to compassionate health care that allows for adequate hospital recovery, especially in the event of surgical complications.

Forward this post to all your friends and encourage them to sign the petition. Those few seconds of their time will make a substantial difference in the lives of other RemarkAble Women when the bill passes.

In Memory of Lisa

One of my husband's female cousins was recently killed by her ex-boyfriend. Call it rage, temporary insanity, cold-blooded murder, or whatever you choose. He made the decision, in a mere instant, to take her life. Two teenage girls are now without a mother. No one would have expected her to die that way - until the signs hinted that she could be in danger.

Think it can't happen to you?  Don't fool yourself. A 2000 report from the National Institute of Justice shows that, "Approximately 1.3 million women and 835,000 men are physically assaulted by an intimate partner annually in the United States." Those figures are from nine years ago. With the current economic climate, I guarantee you those numbers have increased. Somewhere, a woman was assaulted as I typed this sentence.

If you have been hurt, abused, or threatened in any way by an intimate partner, get out now. And get help. Contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline or 1-800-779-SAFE (7233).  Or call your local government for available resources. 

Lisa was a RemarkAble Woman. She didn't deserve to die this way. You don't either. No one does.

Learning Doesn't Always Come Easy

Some of life's lessons are best learned before the fact. Here's one I share from personal experience.

Do not, I repeat, do not leave the wax wrapper of a Laughing Cow cheese round on your fabric car seat when it's 80 degrees outside. Even more so, know that is has melted BEFORE you reach to pick it up and end up with wax goo  under your fingernails.

Ha ha! I love laughing at myself.  Feel free to join in.

A Look into the Heart of Family

On this eighth anniversary of the tragedy in New York City, I'm reminded of the hundreds of people who perished at the hands of a heartless few. Hundreds who were mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, doormen, baristas, office clerks, CEOs, and waitstaff.  Firefighters, window washers, managers, and florists. 

Whatever their role in life, they belonged to someone, somewhere.  Family.

Today, I received a phone call from a cousin I haven't seen in 40 years.  She was on her way back to the Atlanta area after the end of an Alaska cruise.  She called from the airport.  Her flight wasn't leaving for three hours. 

"I can be there in 1/2 hour," I told her. It was more like an hour after the time I spent snatching photos off the walls to show her, and crawling in late-morning traffic.  But I made it.  She left the gate and met me in baggage claim.

Forty years does not erase the connection that is Family. I instantly recognized her as she neared the top of the escalator. Hugs and non-stop chatter. That's what I recall from the first connection.  We made our way to a coffee shop. Then the stories and the photos joined the reunion.  More connection.

In no time, 45 minutes had elapsed. It was time for her to return for her second round in the snaking security line. I joined her until I could go no further, and captured her home number and email address in my memo pad.  Even more connection. And promises to stay in touch.  We're older now, and wise enough to keep our word.

It is often joked that we can choose our friends, but not our family. Are we not all family, in some particular way?  I say Yes. I choose you and you and you. Sight unseen. My spirit thrives on connection with kindred spirits who rejoice in the gift of life, for tomorrows are not guaranteed.

Look into the hearts of those around you, and welcome them into the home of your heart.  They are family.

More Than Mere Horse Sense

A lesson from a horse. I didn't know how it would happen, but I knew it would. On a recent visit to Redtail Farm in Maple Valley, WA, I met up with life and business coach, Rachel Dexheimer, who uses horses in her work with clients. I had heard of the power of horses to connect with humans using amazingly intuitive energy. Now I was experiencing it.

As Rachel and I stood talking in the pastureabout what was on my mind, Rohan, the leader of the herd, suddenly began making his way towards us. I felt my body react to his movement as he drew nearer. The last time I encountered a horse was at the age of seven, and it was a pony. Now I felt the fear of not knowing what would happen, what I was "supposed" to do.  I quite naturally reached out and stroked his mane and his head. Nonplussed, he continue to eat the grass at our feet.

Then he walked away a bit,continuing his meal, as Rachel and I carried on with our coaching conversation. Without anticipation on my part, Rohan then began making his way back towards us. As he drew closer, I reached out to pat his large body. He continued his stride, and before I knew it, he was standing on my right foot.

Ow! Ow! Ow!That's what I remember saying. Struggling to remove my foot proved futile. Rohan weighs in at 1700 pounds. After standing there for a few seconds, he moved on. Rachel compassionately asked if I was alright, which I was. My old but trusty Rockport shoes saved the day, and my foot. Rachel assured me that it was rare for that to happen, and that Rohan had not put his full weight down on my foot. Just enough to make his point.

Ever the coach, Rachel used that moment for powerful questioning. "What was he telling you?" Since our conversation was around my self-expression, it became clear that Rohan was encouraging me to stand my ground, as he so aptly demonstrated on my foot. Don't worry about how others will react. (Ow!)  Express what you think and how you feel, with conviction and respect, and let it be. When he walked away, Rachel asked, "Does he look like he's worried about you?" Obviously not. He let me take his picture when I asked.

Lesson learned. Or re-learned, I might say. My self-expression has increased significantly since my days as a shy child. I am more likely now to say what is so for me. On occasion, though, I do hold back, for a number of reasons. Like the true leader he is, Rohan reminded me, as I remind you, that all words have value when spoken from the heart. Let them be heard, without judging. Allow the message to resonate with the receiver in whatever way they choose. Accept that their reaction might not be as you prefer. Trust that your intentions are good. Learn what comes to you in return, and embrace the lesson. 

RemarkAble Woman, what do you want to say?

One Question

What is possible for you today?

A Story with a Grateful Ending

I was asked to run a special errand for someone who is in a dire situation; a situation which was not by choice, and for which I was committed to help as best able.

My initial response was to delay a response. I was immersed in other tasks when, suddenly, I received a second request by phone.  Right away, I became concerned about the traffic I would encounter in order to complete the errand. After all, it was late afternoon AND the Mariners baseball team were scheduled for a home game at 7:10. I saw myself sitting in a sea of metal, bumper-to-bumper, inwardly griping at my slow movement on the road.

The person who made the request was at her wit's end. Other resources were not available.  I agreed to run the errand, with the stipulation that it would be later, after the traffic had subsided. 

Here's the part where I love Divine intervention. After we hung up, I "felt" the voice.  I didn't hear anything, but my body felt it.  My body asked me, "How would you feel if you were in that situation and someone delayed your comfort because they didn't want to sit in traffic?"

Bam!  My husband had no problem with a delay in dinner, and in no time I was in the car, heading out to do then what I had my convinced myself had to happen later.  The concern about traffic dissipated.  Taking care of someone's situation, one that I would not want to be in, took its place.

Long story short, and to my dismay, there was no traffic as I had anticipated.  Smooth sailing all the way. I completed part one of the errand, and proceeded to part two.  When I arrived to deliver what this person needed, her smile sank my heart. I drank in her gratitude, and silently thanked her for touching my heart.  

It would have been easy for me to feel guilt, but I didn't. Given my schedule, I knew I had to determine my priorities. At the same time, I was shown an alternative path, and stayed open to the possibility. Plus, I was shown how the power of a story can alter the course of our lives, and hinder the opportunity for sacred connections. Traffic? What traffic? I hadn't even checked the live reports for the road conditions. I made it all up!

The blessing I received was far greater than whatever satisfaction I might have gained if I had let my story play out. My smugness at beating the traffic I wouldn't have sat in if I made the delivery later would not have known the delight my heart my enjoyed earlier.

Think about a story you concocted without knowing the truth, or for which you made assumptions that proved to be invalid. It's quite natural to do when you are faced with uncertainty in the midst of a decision. Yet, it is that very uncertainty that can complicate the decision, especially when exacerbated by a story. An impulsive jump to what appears to be a logical solution may in fact be one that leaves you feeling disconnected, perhaps even stressed, by your fictitious story.

I suspect I was asking for divine guidance, without even knowing it. Fortunately, it came to me.  I considered the other option. I became more aware of the impact of my behavior on another human being. I accepted that, if my story were true, that it would be OK.  The traffic wasn't going to be a big disruption in my life. Life would go on. In that moment, though, I was being blessed, and didn't know it, until later. Gratitude from one person to another has a way of finding a permanent home in the heart.

And for that, I feel honored.