Missed a photo op. Packed my camera for my plane trip home.
Alone in my row, the view of my neighbors across the aisle was intriguing. He appeared to be sleeping - kind of! She lay across his lap with her head deep in his crotch. A photo would be convincing evidence of a try for the mile high club. If so, there was no heavy breathing.
Flight 32 will be loading soon. The flight from Charlotte to Phoenix should be exciting. There is a big wind storm, say dust, with winds up to 45 mpg. May get to see an haboob from the air. And the drive toTucson will be through a dust storm.
A few tears were shed when I left the Bahamas, and I miss it all ready. People in NC are helpful, but not happy and huggy. Going through customs in Freeport was pleasurable. When they saw that I was an IAT patient, they lifted my luggage on and off the conveyor belts, gave me hugs, and promises of prayers.
My blog will continue, even if I am not "in the Bahamas". I will need to return in three or four months. They can't send the serum to the US. (Expletive deleted) government. To maintain my recovery I will need to continue with the shots.
Boarding. Bye.
Saturday, 17 March 2012
Thursday, 15 March 2012
Oops!
Drawing captures your being 'til you loose track of time. My shot alarm didn't get set, and then it malfunctioned so my shots were really messed up.
Here is one of the last three charcoal portraits - I didn't get photos of the other two.
Bahamian women are so beautiful that charcoal and white chalk just can't capture that sparkle. They are impeccably groomed. Just the right amount of make-up, every hair in place, interesting clothing, but the most important thing is that they all look so happy. Hugs and laughter everywhere.
Wish I had time to do oil portraits. The skin tones are luscious.
Dr. Clement was at the clinic today, two weeks after a hip replacement. No cane. Chipper as could be. So glad I got to see him again before I leave.
The Bahamian patient, who was in such bad shape when he arrived, walked into the Clinic unaided. Before, he needed two people to help him move about. He was regaling folks with stories about the islands - with his most beautiful voice. I can't look at him and not be reminded of Harry Belafonte. He looked foxy today. It is hard to believe the incredibly fast improvement in patients. His wife and sister dote on him.
The Amish man enjoys the beach and doesn't look like the same man that came here. No kidding, I wouldn't have believed that either one of them would make it. Such improvement in so few days. Outstanding.
Here is one of the last three charcoal portraits - I didn't get photos of the other two.
Wish I had time to do oil portraits. The skin tones are luscious.
Dr. Clement was at the clinic today, two weeks after a hip replacement. No cane. Chipper as could be. So glad I got to see him again before I leave.
The Bahamian patient, who was in such bad shape when he arrived, walked into the Clinic unaided. Before, he needed two people to help him move about. He was regaling folks with stories about the islands - with his most beautiful voice. I can't look at him and not be reminded of Harry Belafonte. He looked foxy today. It is hard to believe the incredibly fast improvement in patients. His wife and sister dote on him.
The Amish man enjoys the beach and doesn't look like the same man that came here. No kidding, I wouldn't have believed that either one of them would make it. Such improvement in so few days. Outstanding.
Saturday, 10 March 2012
Name that painting......
My newest painting. It is the National Park beach.
The title is? Well, I am open to suggestions.
It is of two girls that were playing there, but when I got into the painting mode, I kept thinking about the solid Bahamian, with the walking stick, helping the cancer patient balance in the water.
The shape between them became a bit heart shaped, and then I put a star fish in their line of sight. It's weird what comes out in a painting when you aren't paying attention.
This was painted with Dick Blick acrylic paint samples, just red, yellow, blue, white and raw sienna. 14"x11" wrapped canvas.
The title is? Well, I am open to suggestions.
It is of two girls that were playing there, but when I got into the painting mode, I kept thinking about the solid Bahamian, with the walking stick, helping the cancer patient balance in the water.
The shape between them became a bit heart shaped, and then I put a star fish in their line of sight. It's weird what comes out in a painting when you aren't paying attention.
This was painted with Dick Blick acrylic paint samples, just red, yellow, blue, white and raw sienna. 14"x11" wrapped canvas.
Dancing Palms
Well I found the old post that disappeared a week ago.
Four coconut palm trees danced in the sunlight with abandon. Wild wind announced the approach of a tropical storm. Sunlight played on the twelve foot palm fronds changing the colors as they bounced in and out of shadows. An exotic large plant below waved it's red, yellow and green leaves. It was as fascinating as watching a Cirque du Soliel performance. The second story screened in porch was the perfect place to ride out the storm. The rains brought a quick change in temperature and that wonderful fresh aroma. We missed our trip to the beach. Who cared? That was Sunday.
Today the IAT Clinic parking lot was filled to overflowing. New patients arrived. The shots were ready much later than usual, so we had the morning to chat. Three Amish folks from Indiana had taken the train to Ft Lauderdale and then the ferry to Freeport. Out of their element, they are a bit overwhelmed.
The new group is as friendly and helpful as the bunch that went home on Friday. Everyone wanted to help the newbies. What a world it would be if everyone had the same attitude as these cancer patients. I am proud to be one of them.
Four coconut palm trees danced in the sunlight with abandon. Wild wind announced the approach of a tropical storm. Sunlight played on the twelve foot palm fronds changing the colors as they bounced in and out of shadows. An exotic large plant below waved it's red, yellow and green leaves. It was as fascinating as watching a Cirque du Soliel performance. The second story screened in porch was the perfect place to ride out the storm. The rains brought a quick change in temperature and that wonderful fresh aroma. We missed our trip to the beach. Who cared? That was Sunday.
Today the IAT Clinic parking lot was filled to overflowing. New patients arrived. The shots were ready much later than usual, so we had the morning to chat. Three Amish folks from Indiana had taken the train to Ft Lauderdale and then the ferry to Freeport. Out of their element, they are a bit overwhelmed.
The new group is as friendly and helpful as the bunch that went home on Friday. Everyone wanted to help the newbies. What a world it would be if everyone had the same attitude as these cancer patients. I am proud to be one of them.
Happy Cows and Pigeon Peas
"The cows run up to the fence with their mouths wide open and we toss them the doughnuts." The Amish gather out of date food from grocery stores and restaurants to feed their cattle. Someone asked if they like sprinkles.
The Amish patient looks better and better, no longer coughing. He is smiling instead.
A new Bahamian patient is just getting settled in. I am betting he will throw away his cane very soon.
They have strange fish here. We had "fish fingers" tonight at a fishing contest at a yacht club. What a crowd. The Bahamians love to party. Lots of very loud music, jumping castles with water, toss the ball and the guy falls in the water, and great atmosphere.
The typical Bahamian dinner has mac and cheese (very solid and cut in a square) cole slaw, brown rice and peas (Pigeon Peas that looked like black beans to me). They dished up more food than anyone could eat. Harley, the Potcake dog had a feast when we got home.
La Caya is the touristy place where they have a "Straw Market" tiny stalls of souvenirs and hand made crafts. One Bahamian lady was so nice to me when I told her I was a patient at IAT. She gave me a big hug. My eyes have just got to stop leaking when people are surprisingly nice.
It has been two months since surgery and I still haven't tried on my prosthesis. Braless feels good.
Five weeks without a car. Can't wait to see my PT Cruiser.
My plane reservations are for the 17th.
The Amish patient looks better and better, no longer coughing. He is smiling instead.
A new Bahamian patient is just getting settled in. I am betting he will throw away his cane very soon.
They have strange fish here. We had "fish fingers" tonight at a fishing contest at a yacht club. What a crowd. The Bahamians love to party. Lots of very loud music, jumping castles with water, toss the ball and the guy falls in the water, and great atmosphere.
The typical Bahamian dinner has mac and cheese (very solid and cut in a square) cole slaw, brown rice and peas (Pigeon Peas that looked like black beans to me). They dished up more food than anyone could eat. Harley, the Potcake dog had a feast when we got home.
La Caya is the touristy place where they have a "Straw Market" tiny stalls of souvenirs and hand made crafts. One Bahamian lady was so nice to me when I told her I was a patient at IAT. She gave me a big hug. My eyes have just got to stop leaking when people are surprisingly nice.
It has been two months since surgery and I still haven't tried on my prosthesis. Braless feels good.
Five weeks without a car. Can't wait to see my PT Cruiser.
My plane reservations are for the 17th.
Tuesday, 6 March 2012
Great news
It seems as though, if you drag a body part across the touch pad on my computer it will send your blog off into never, never land. The last entry just disappeared.
No loss, just nonsense about the date palms dancing in the approaching tropical storm, like a Cirque du Soliel show.
After reviewing my lab results for the last month the Dr. said that I could go home a week from Sat. Two weeks early. My blood work was normal. I will need to come back four to six months from now to check the progress and pick up more serum. The shots will continue after I leave here.
Monday means new people. The waiting room is packed. We have three Amish folks, a retread that says he is five years old. He was told he was dying five years ago. He lived and started counting all over.
We have twenty years, twenty-five years. ten years of rebirth. Most impressive.
Someone said, "it is so good that the patients can afford to take the treatment". When putting the pen to paper I discovered that it would be cheaper to be treated in the Bahamas than go through the US cancer protocol. That costs about $800,000. You know the insurance isn't going to pay all of that. Much is not covered by Medicare, and there is that nasty doughnut hole pharmacy joke. Then you end up with horrible side effects and it takes a long time for your body to recover. If you recover it takes at least a year out of your life. This will take six weeks. I feel better than I have in many years, even though I just had a double mastectomy less than two months ago. My allergies have improved . More about that discussion later.
Gotta snooze,
Love,
Saltness
Oh, I painted another beach scene. Will photograph it tomorrow.
No loss, just nonsense about the date palms dancing in the approaching tropical storm, like a Cirque du Soliel show.
After reviewing my lab results for the last month the Dr. said that I could go home a week from Sat. Two weeks early. My blood work was normal. I will need to come back four to six months from now to check the progress and pick up more serum. The shots will continue after I leave here.
Monday means new people. The waiting room is packed. We have three Amish folks, a retread that says he is five years old. He was told he was dying five years ago. He lived and started counting all over.
We have twenty years, twenty-five years. ten years of rebirth. Most impressive.
Someone said, "it is so good that the patients can afford to take the treatment". When putting the pen to paper I discovered that it would be cheaper to be treated in the Bahamas than go through the US cancer protocol. That costs about $800,000. You know the insurance isn't going to pay all of that. Much is not covered by Medicare, and there is that nasty doughnut hole pharmacy joke. Then you end up with horrible side effects and it takes a long time for your body to recover. If you recover it takes at least a year out of your life. This will take six weeks. I feel better than I have in many years, even though I just had a double mastectomy less than two months ago. My allergies have improved . More about that discussion later.
Gotta snooze,
Love,
Saltness
Oh, I painted another beach scene. Will photograph it tomorrow.
Friday, 2 March 2012
Chief Rain in the Face
Mr. Solie, our music teacher, used to call me Chief Rain in the Face. My eyes would always leak during my saxophone lessons. Guess I was angry at myself for not practicing. I cried a lot when I was young.
There were a few tears after I got my diagnosis of Stage III breast cancer, especially when they said it was aggressive and invasive. It was fleeting.
Last night my eyes dripped at we left Le Mer. There must have been eighteen of us at the last supper - before many of the patients went home. My emotional reaction was surprising. After only three or four weeks, these folks have become very important to me. I don't remember ever being cast into a group of more friendly, helpful and delightful people. All from different areas of expertise, and different parts of the country. The only thing we have in common is cancer, and the IAT Clinic.
This morning the outgoing patients picked up their frozen serum that will last them until their next tune-up. In the waiting room were two new gentlemen. From their beard style and clothing they appeared to be Amish. More new patients and old "tune-upers" should arrive at the Clinic on Monday. It should be an interesting week.
We watched the boats come into the harbor while we were eating lunch at Pier One. My host was returning from Florida by ferry. Tasty conch fritters was my seafood choice. They ring a bell at sundown and a herd of sharks appear waiting to be fed. Sounds gory, but it is a tourist attraction.
What an adventure. It could only make one stronger.
And I haven't worn a bra since surgery on Jan. 12th. What freedom. Feels good.
There were a few tears after I got my diagnosis of Stage III breast cancer, especially when they said it was aggressive and invasive. It was fleeting.
Last night my eyes dripped at we left Le Mer. There must have been eighteen of us at the last supper - before many of the patients went home. My emotional reaction was surprising. After only three or four weeks, these folks have become very important to me. I don't remember ever being cast into a group of more friendly, helpful and delightful people. All from different areas of expertise, and different parts of the country. The only thing we have in common is cancer, and the IAT Clinic.
This morning the outgoing patients picked up their frozen serum that will last them until their next tune-up. In the waiting room were two new gentlemen. From their beard style and clothing they appeared to be Amish. More new patients and old "tune-upers" should arrive at the Clinic on Monday. It should be an interesting week.
We watched the boats come into the harbor while we were eating lunch at Pier One. My host was returning from Florida by ferry. Tasty conch fritters was my seafood choice. They ring a bell at sundown and a herd of sharks appear waiting to be fed. Sounds gory, but it is a tourist attraction.
What an adventure. It could only make one stronger.
And I haven't worn a bra since surgery on Jan. 12th. What freedom. Feels good.
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