SDianneB

Elaine, I may have missed this part, but who is "they" that you refer to -- nurses, or a physician? Your physician? Is it a different physician doing this procedure? Are these maybe new people you haven't seen before? I had mine done while I was hospitalized, so it was done in the hospital's endoscopy lab where they have the equipment for these kinds of procedures. The intake nurse told me exactly what they would be doing -- from start to stop, and that it wouldn't take very long. She helped me to relax, and then the 2 nurses inside the room helped even more by being loose with me -- we talked about finding someone to clean our house, and then they told me about "happy hour" -- when they would inject me with the GOOD drugs! If I have to have another one of these, I'd go back there in a minute. In fact, I'd insist on it, as I have experience with this facility. If I had to go elsewhere and face strangers, or be referred to another doc, I'm not sure I wouldn't be at least somewhat fearful, even though I've had the procedure done before. I guess what I'm saying to you is that they MUST listen to you, yes. And if this is a different doc than the one you are seeing, then tell your regular doc that this one isn't listening to you. If you're talking to nurses, demand to talk to a doc. Just GET YOUR ANSWERS -- by all means. And remind them every step of the way that if YOU - THE PATIENT, THEREFORE THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN THIS LITTLE PARTY -- aren't satisfied, you can and will refuse the procedure, and/or go elsewhere where you will be treated with more respect. Dianne

Larry, I'm late responding too, but am so very glad to read the positive words you wrote. I've had so very little trouble with chemo (Carboplatin & Etoposide), and would like to clone whatever it is about me to everyone else having the same regimen. I'll send my most positive thoughts in hope some of my good fortune rubs off on your wife, and that the side effects become minimal or non-existent. (Yanno what I love just about the best reading here? It's reading the words of people like you, Larry -- loved ones, friends, supporters of people with cancer who write so very lovingly and thoughtfully, and are such great cheerleaders. I write for myself as do many others, and it's such a treat for me to read when others write.) Dianne

I had one done this past June, and it wasn't nearly as awful as I was told beforehand. I had no pain during the procedure, and had some really GOOD drugs that made me not really care what they were doing! I remember coughing a lot and trying not to, and the nurses telling me to go ahead and cough. The whole thing took less than 10 minutes or so, and they told me before it started that they needed me awake and responsive during the procedure. Maybe that's why they no longer use a general anesthetic??? I dreaded this procedure the night before, but once it was over, I couldn't believe how very simple it was -- and painless. It isn't something I'd recommend to have frequently, but I'd have it again before I'd go inside an MRI tube with the jackhammer -- no question! What has helped me a whole lot with some of the procedures, even the CT/PET scans, was what they call "deep cleansing breaths" in Lamaze classes. It's a slow, deep breath in through the nose, and then a slow breath out through the mouth. A few of those, and I'm more able to relax and get my mind off what they are doing. (Well, all except for the MRI!!) Dianne

Thanks for sharing some of your experience, Andrewsmom. The therapists giving me my daily lung/chest treatments are THE greatest, I think. I asked a few days ago if they would be the same ones giving me my PCI, and they will be - YAY! Knowing that I'll see their smiling faces during that time boosted my confidence level a great deal, because I know they care about me as a person and not just a patient. I know this because a week after something happens that I mention, they will ask me about, so I know they pay some attention to what I say! Much of this is scary while it's unknown. So far, I've found out though that nothing has been as bad as what was described to me in advance! For example, before I had bronchoscopy, I was told that the stuff they spray in my mouth was THE most file tasting stuff ever. It didn't taste good, but wasn't bad at all -- nothing like I thought it would be from what they warned me about. I'm less and less concerned about PCI as the days go by and the more I talk to people who have had it done, as well as the docs and other care providers I talk to. If it's ok with you, I'll join you in that menopausal forgetfulless club, as I've been there a while myself!! Thanks again, Dianne

Donna -- Happy Birthday & Happy LIFE!!! Dianne

Congrats all around -- on the good news and the birthday! My Radiation Oncologist is also my favorite, or at least a tie with the Pulmonologist. Everyone where I go for radiation is SO very nice, and I'm always greeted with smiling faces. The docs there are aces in my book. I also leave there feeling encouraged and positive each and every time. Thanks for sharing the good info. Dianne

Thanks for that info, Donna. When they were talking to me about a biopsy of my adrenal gland, the Pulmonologist called it a "CT guided biopsy." I'm no longer a candidate (at least for now) but this has me curious as to how they do these. The Oncologist told me at first that a biopsy of my adrenal gland would be practically useless, because even it if came back negative, that probably only meant they got the needle in the wrong spot. The Pulmonologist told me later about the CT guided procedure, but I didn't have it because there was no clinical data to support involvement of the adrenal gland. Since then, it's been ruled out on subsequent tests. Dianne

Awwww ... how sweet! My very best to your mom and your entire family. Dianne

Just another note about statistics ... You can get them from the internet -- including many reliable sources who publish studies and articles on the internet. Then, there are local statistics -- such as the ones they have at the center where I'm being treated. Theirs go into the pot of *all* statistics, I guess, but if I look at the ones here and their track record, it is far better than what I've seen on the internet. They also have trials here that have been cited by many prestigious institutions and publications. They have done some groundbreaking research work in this city, and I am sharing in the benefits of all those who came before me in this fight. Having been in the health care business for a number of years, I can tell you that one of THE most important things before going into a hospital is knowing their track record -- do they have higher than usual infections, what is their mortality rate, what is their level of experience for the treatment/surgery/procedure(s) you will be having there, etc. It's the same for any medical care I think -- KNOW about where you are being treated. I know what my doctor tells me about the number of survivors he sees as patients, how they use the best available knowledge, skills and experience they can get to help them survive as long as possible. I know also that they work very hard for patient comfort while they are battling the cancer scourge. And in spite of my Oncologist having an atrocious bedside manner, I know that his skills are exactly what I need at this point in time. Dianne

I hear that. Back in 1971 when my dear grandmother was dying of pneumonia, I remember that a Respiratory Therapist came into her room, and without saying a word, just slapped that mask over her face. She'd been asleep, and it scared the "you know what" out of her, of course. My mother ran him out and made sure that never happened again. I will never forget lessons learned from my grandmother's hospital stay oh so long ago -- that was only one. I will say that taking the breathing treatments every day was something I looked forward to very much while in the hospital. It made me feel so much better, and the techs were really wonderful. The mask didn't bother me really. I don't think it was just the mask that bothered me about the MRI, but the mask on top of everything else. I couldn't breathe, and he was locking me down and expected me to stay that way for 45 minutes -- gasping for each breath and holding still. Gimme a break. Dianne

Lily, I can relate to the anxiety attacks to a degree -- nothing at all like your Johnny experienced though. While I was hospitalized, the day I had my first PET scan I was supposed to have a brain MRI that same day. I was NPO all night, and was NOT happy about that as I was just getting my appetite back and was hungry all the time! They finally take me for the PET scan, then bring me back to my room where I wait. And wait. And wait some more. They at least let me have lunch, then one of the nurses mid-afternoon thought we were in trouble for that, because I hadn't had the MRI done yet. She called them and was told it was ok for me to eat, and that they were running late and would get me "later." It was after 6:00 when they came after me -- making me miss supper, drat! (Not fatal, but the substitute was a dry old sandwich, and bread tasted awful to me about that time.) They take me down there, and the technician puts me on that hard, flat table, and starts explaining things to me. Of course, I hear the "jackhammers" in the MRI machine right off, so he gives me ear plugs. My worst problem was that I couldn't lay flat on my back and breathe at the same time -- what a choice, huh. I just simply could NOT do it. (When I had the CT & PET scans, it was no big deal -- they just propped me up a little.) Having the MRI of my brain, I couldn't be propped up at all, so was literally gasping for breath. Then, he slaps that "mask" on my face, and that was all she wrote. I was over anxious from all the tests and then having to wait to hear the results, was tired that day from tests and waiting and not much food, had one nerve left and he got ON IT! I told him then and there that I wanted OUT of there. I was not about to go into that tube for 45 minutes (his estimate of how long it would take) when I couldn't breathe, and with that thing over my face. Uh uh. NO way, Jose. He wasn't real happy about that, but at that moment I didn't care. The next morning was bronchoscopy, and my wonderful doctor. I told him what happened and why, and he said it was no big deal -- I didn't have to have an MRI, could have a CT scan, so that's what we did right after the bronchoscopy. No problem at all. (I've since located several open MRI machines here in town, so if he wants one of those, I'll make sure I go to one of them!) As to seeing the doctor before chemo, I can't answer for everyone, but where I go it is "THE PROCEDURE," and you don't vary from THE PROCEDURE! Of course, if I needed to be examined or something, that would make sense, but that's not happened with me yet. Making a fuss about it helps though - or at least it did me. If nothing else, I'll just go back to the chemo room, lie back in one of the comfy chairs next to someone who needs a little company, and make my self comfy until the doctor deigns to see me. Dianne

Well, shoot. You made me laugh, then want to send you a thousand cyber-hugs. Boo-hiss to icky neighbors and wasps. Eeeeuuu. Hugs and good thoughts and prayers to you and Earl. Dianne

Ann, you make some good points. Thank you. After thinking this over somewhat, I had to hold up 2 things to evaluate -- 1) Do I just write what I think, no matter what, thinking that this is a forum where you can just open up, say it like you think it, and let that be that? OR 2) Do I remain mindful that there are others here who may not feel the same way I do (specifically with statistics in mind), but what the heck, they should get over it and be open minded like I am (koff koff), etc. I'm quite outspoken most of the time, but since this monster found me, many things have changed that I never would have thought possible before. This may be one of them, and I'm sure there are plenty of people in my life who are glad of it! I think that I would come closer now to #2, because ... I come here for support and try to give some back when I can, and I think the others here would probably say the same thing. You hit the nail on the head, I think, in telling about you wanting to know the numbers, while your husband did not. I wanted to know it all, and like you, I look for reading material and information. I've learned now though to take many things on the internet with a grain of salt, and I try to stick to the more reputable journals and health care providers. As the days/weeks go by, I've been told a few times that I'm adding to those statistics - significantly. Like I said before, if it's even a 1% chance, I want to be in that 1%!!! Thanks again for your thoughtful post. Dianne

Oh, a good ol' pity party now and then is good for the soul, I think. Maybe you should get someone to paint a little smiley face on the back of your bald head, and then just expose it when you feel like it. Ha. I've managed to not lose my hair during chemo and chest radiation, but when I get to the PCI, it will go for sure, so I'll finally get to use all the hats and wigs I got, thinking I would lose it long ago. Amazingly, I was ready for that early on, and it's not such a big deal to me now. You sound AOK to me, just having a down spell. You're entitled! I'll send some mental smiles your way, but fully expect you to put on your own smiles soon. Dianne

Ok, we need to clone this Jim person! There are a few like that in my life too, I'm glad to say. In particular, when I go in every day for radiation therapy, I see smiling faces and cheerful, supportive people - without question. I brag on them to the Radiation Oncologist every week, and he's insistent that patients let him know personally if they are ever treated in an inferior manner. I'm sure it's his attitude from the top down that keeps the best people working there and gives their patients these kind of angels to come in contact with every day. There are a few nurses where I go for chemo that I know to be good ones by now too, and I try to get them when I go. I have great veins, but it takes someone who knows what s/he is doing to find them, and I'm sometimes amazed at people who do phlebotomy for a living and don't know much more about it than I do. A few of these nurses are great though -- it takes them seconds, and they are like "nothin' to it." My Oncologist I'm not so crazy about, but I adore the Pulmonogist (he literally saved my life when I first got sick and was hospitalized) and the Radiation Oncologists - the main one, and the others I've seen since starting treatment. I feel so very fortunate to be in such good hands. Dianne (who wishes she lived closer so she could go with you for chemo, and then sneak you out one night so we could go TP the houses of those awful doctors)

When I first found I had a "tumor," and before we knew exactly what it was, the Oncologist came by my hospital room and we discussed what it "probably" is -- NSCLC. (As it turned out, it was SCLC, but we were one day before getting biopsy results.) He talked about treatment being virtually the same either way, at least at first, and said I should start chemo the next day. He was going out of town (to a big meeting in New Orleans where some new information came from) so his associate would come by and handle that. He talked of a trial they had going that I would be "perfect for," and would have his associate bring all the paperwork for that if I was willing to participate. We talked about the trial, and he convinced me to go for it. (It wasn't too hard, because I was eager to jump into treatment.) A few minutes after he left my room, he came back by, stuck his head in the door, and informed me that the trial was closed, so "never mind." Huh??? He's the Associate Director of Research at this cancer center, and he didn't realize it was closed? Well, maybe he didn't know and maybe it was perfectly normal for him not to know, but should he have discussed it with a patient before he knew for sure? In one word - NO. He kept harping on my adrenal glands too, even though the other docs and the clinical data pointed away from what he thought. He mentioned a needle biopsy that day in my hospital room, and promptly talked me out of it saying that it was "dangerous- could start bleeding," and that even if it came back negative, it probably wasn't negative, but the needle just wasn't in the right place. Huh? Of course, when I held his feet to the fire about this and had the other 2 docs discuss it with him, he brought up the biopsy again, and all of a sudden it was a good idea. Yeahright. Finally, the 2nd round of scans and tests proved the other docs right, but he still won't to this day admit he was wrong about that. This doctor and this center are excellent -- he has knowledge, skills, and the right stuff to treat me for this cancer. But -- he has an ego that won't quit, is very young, and lacks a lot in bedside manner. I call him Dr. Gloom & Doom now, because if I had a hangnail, he'd be warning me that it "could be" cancer. Of course, everything "could be," but I leave the clinical stuff up to the other docs now, as I don't believe much of what he has to say. He's following the treatment protocols, and the Radiation Oncologists and others in the Cancer Center support my treatment, so I'll stay with him unless he gives me a reason not to that isn't about his personality. Everything in moderation, my parents used to say. This must be true of the medical field as well, especially within a bunch of people fighting cancer, no? Moderate doses of gloom & doom, denial, negativity, or whatever, tempered by the maximum degree of hope that the person can muster. That's gotta be it, or at least close. Dianne

After the first time or 2, I finally figured out not to let this stuff bother me. Now, I pretty much expect it going in and (unfortunately) am seldom disapointed. One thing I do notice a lot is that if people aren't trying to schedule around doctors, things go faster and more efficiently. It's when you put the docs in the mix that things get bogged down, and they go into "CYA" mode! Dianne

Connie, you're probably right, but patience is NOT one of the virtues I picked up a lot of in my life! If I really and truly thought this office was working as hard as it could to at least meet us (the patients) halfway, I wouldn't be so negative about them, probably. But like I said -- when you have limited office hours, everyone goes home at 4:30 and has an afternoon off during the week plus all day Saturday, it's a little hard for me to buy that they aren't just shuffling people in and out of there a bit like herding cattle. To try and talk with the office staff gets you most often a bimbo-stare and faster/louder smacking of the chewing gum. They want you there at your schedule appointment time because you get the finger stick and vital signs done, then wait for 2 hours. That way, the staff can get their part done, and go home at 4:30, leaving the Oncology Nurses the task of getting everyone's chemo done after a 2 hour wait to see the doc. This I'd understand too if there were a compelling reason to see the doc before having the chemo, but with me there isn't one, and never has been. What we discuss can be discussed during or after, and I could be well on my way. Here's another tale about this bunch -- on a Saturday when I felt a bladder infection coming on. Every time I go in that office, someone tells me "just call us if you need us -- any time." I called immediately when I felt the first symptoms. Almost 9 hours later, I finally had an Rx in my hand. NINE hours. Well, at least it wasn't something life threatening. Call 1 I got the answering service and was told they'd call me "right back." After an hour, I called again, they verified my phone # (it was right), and said they'd call me "right back." I told them that if they couldn't help me to please let me know and I'd call my internist, and they thought that would be a good idea, so I did. Finally, someone from the Oncology office called back, and I told her my symptoms. I got in response a tirade about how they couldn't just call something in without knowing what I had, so I asked her what was I supposed to do -- stand in the yard flapping my hands? Go to the ER for a freakin' bladder infection? What??? She finally said she'd call the doctor on call and see what she could do. (Gee thanks.) I called the Internist and told him never mind. (I later found out that his answering service hadn't contacted him until just a few minutes before I made the 2nd call to let him know I didn't need him to call me.) She says it will take her at least an hour to get the Rx, and that she will call me back and let me know when it's done. Two and 1/2 hours later, I hear back -- the Rx has been called in. I get my friend to drive me to Walgreen's, they have the Rx but it isn't ready -- they tell me the patient (me!) indicated they would pick it up after 9:30 that evening. I assured them I was the patient and had told them nothing of the sort since it had been called in by the doctor's office. So, there was a 30 minute wait, and I finally get the meds. I get home, and find out I have only half of what I need -- I have the antibiotic/sulfa drug part, but not the analgesic part to help with the symptoms. (Anyone who has ever had a bladder infection knows well how it feels - ugh.) I needed the little brown pills that turn your urine orange! Rather than start a 9 hour process again, I opted to call my GYN doc (a friend) and she got that done for me, but it was another 2 hours. This is why I call all this "institutional discrespect." It's the office staff, the doctors themselves, technicians at times, nurses at times, answering services, pharmacies, etc. Everyone seems to be so worried about their little piece within the system that they forget why they are there in the first place -- their patients. Dianne

Elaine writes: "I know intellectually, that it is probable that such persons are really tryng to protect themselves not only from the pain they may be feeling about losing me, but also about their own unreconciled fears etc about their own mortality. It's hard all the way around." I think we agree too! I just can't let it hold me back, so I'm more or less at the point where I will have to have THE talk with my sister, and if she doesn't want to get into reality, I will go to my brother who can and will. I had some concerns about my living will and POA, because although she says she can, I'm not sure my sister could make the tough decisions if I were incapable of doing so. What I did was to have the document drawn up so that it stands on its own, with or without her. In other words, I've stated in the document what I do/don't want, and she can't override that. The one I have the hardest time with is my 91 year old mother. We jokingly say to her all the time that she is in better shape than all 3 of her kids, and she is! She comes out of her medical appointments with flying colors! It was hard a few years ago when my sister had her heart attack, because my mother is 1,000 miles away and SO worried. We talked to her on the phone a lot, but it was at least a week or so after my sister came home from the hospital before she would even talk to her on the phone. I've called my mother at least once a week since my diagnosis, and I make sure she knows what is going on. I try to point out to her the good and the bad, but I do filter what I say to her a bit so that she doesn't obsess about my condition. She will be here for a visit soon, and I hope that when I'm done with chemo/radiation that I can go home to stay with her for a week or so. Not only is she getting a little frantic to see me in person, I really miss her and want to see her too. The way I've tried to go about this is to just deal with the practical part once and then move on -- such as the living will, will, POA, etc., including THE talk with the family. I only have a few easy requests, and other than that, they can light a match to everything I have if that's what they want! I don't like running into denial either -- but I really do understand it. (Elaine -- thanks so much, and to the rest of you too. I'm enjoying this discussion and the various points of view.) Dianne

"4. Even the most hopeful of person can not and often does not beat certain stages and forms and histiologies of cancer. To not accept this fact, places an inordinate amount of blame on the person with cancer and possibly his or her family and loved ones. " Elaine, I agree and disagree with this -- somewhat! (How's that for fence sitting???) I have a sister who is (almost) 68 years old. She had a heart attack almost 2 years ago, and lives with heart disease every day. In many ways, she is so very similar to me, yet vastly different in that her disease carries with it a very high rate of survival as long as she follows a healthy regimen of diet, exercise, medication, etc. Even so, she still has a fear (as do those of us who care about her) that she will have another heart attack one of these days and won't come through it as well as she did before. When my diagnosis came about and after the initial shock/anger/etc. wore off somewhat, I set about doing what I knew I must do -- getting my will updated, getting my living will/POA done, getting info about hospice, home health care, etc., and trying to make some lists of what things I'd like to go to which people. Once that was done, I wanted to talk to my sister (closest relative) and other family members and friends about my wishes -- just once, and call it done. I still haven't been able to have "the talk" mostly because my sister doesn't want to hear anything other than that the chemo/radiation will get rid of the cancer, and it won't ever come back, or if it does come back, it will be long after she's gone. This isn't about her having more hope than I have, it's about her being unable to face what I may have to face. I'll do what I can to help her through this, but she will eventually have to face facts. As to the HOPE part of all this, if they tell me that my cancer is 99% fatal, then I know that somewhere there are REAL people making up that 1% and I want to be one of THEM, by golly. THAT is hope by my definition. Whatever the numbers or odds or statistics, as long as there is room for even ONE person in the minority figures, I want to be THAT person, and that's what I shoot for -- it's what I HOPE for. Yes, numbers can be dismal, but so far I've already added (according to the docs) a lot to the ones I started out with, so I'm headed in the right direction. All I can do is what I'm doing now - paying attention to my body, taking the treatments, remaining involved in my care, and holding my treatment team responsible for their part in this. Yes, I have HOPE and will as long as there is a chance I can work toward the goals I set out for myself. Dianne

"Those statistics play a major role in the attitude that we see every day. The attitude that makes doctors give poor prognosis. The attitude that makes people treat someone like a "dead man walking" Those statistics feed that deadly attitude that robs people of hope. The statistics feed the attitude and the attitude feeds the statistics. So I am asking anyone who has statistics in there mind to leave them at the door when you enter here. This is no place for statistics. It is a place for love, support, laughs and tears. It is a place to share anger, sorrow and heartache. You will find that no matter how much you give you will always get back so much more. And you can bet those statistics are 100%. It is not my intention to make anyone angry or to have them feel bad. I think everyone should be welcome here. No one here is the enemy. The enemy here is CANCER and that deadly ATTITUDE that robs people of HOPE." This is amazing. Thanks so much for these very wise words. Dianne

This is called "informed consent" and you're supposed to give it before they do surgery. It's actually illegal to perform surgery without it, but unfortunately, of the number of surgeries done in the U.S. every day, I'd bet at least half of them are done without it. My dad was a doctor, and I worked in the health care field for many years, so I at least learned to ask a LOT of questions and I do -- each and every time. I can't say this is true of every doctor and every situation, but all too often I think they don't want a patient to know everything or s/he wouldn't consent to the procedure. I don't necessarily think it's all about money either, but the enormous ego that many surgeons have, and the fact that they (as do other specialists) sometimes think they are all-powerful. Again, the disclaimer -- I don't think this is true of the vast majority of care providers, and it's purely my opinion based on my own experiences. Dianne

You say: "Basically, I'm looking for support and some sort of confirmation that the 'do nothing' route is acceptable.....I hate this. My Mom and I have always been extremely close and this is very painful for me and my family. " I disagree that what your mom and your family have decided is the "do nothing route." I think you are all doing something even though it doesn't involve the standard treatment for cancer. We can't control our death -- it may come today, tomorrow, or whenever. It may come in the form of cancer, or it may come when we walk outside one day and are run over by a truck! We can, however, control some aspects of our dying if it becomes inevitable from the ravages of a disease. I'm all for staying in control of whatever I can in regards to my life -- and that means my living and/or my dying. I think what your family has done takes just as much courage as it does for someone to submit to such harsh treatment as chemo, radiation, surgery, etc. Either way says, I think, that we take control of our life and live it the way we think is best, based on our own individual beliefs and values. One of my favorite quotes -- perhaps someone knows who to attribute this to? -- is the person who says he isn't afraid of dying, but he really doesn't want to be there when it happens. Dianne

I have one to add -- if something doesn't light up on PET scan, it is probably not involved! When they first found a tumor and before we knew what it was we were dealing with, a CT scan showed that I had enlarged adrenal glands. Of course, that was a concern, but the Pulmonologist felt that it was related to my other symptoms, and probably not something to worry about. Sure enough, on the first PET scan, there was NO activity whatsoever around my adrenal glands. However, the Oncologist kept insisting they were involved, and was hinting about advanced SCLC, even though ALL clinical information said otherwise. I believe that from the start, he didn't plan on Radiation Therapy because of his "hunch," until I talked again to the Pulmonologist and my Internist and they both talked to him. By the time I saw the Radiation Oncologist for the first time, I'd had another round of scans, and sure enough -- no involvement around the adrenal glands at all -- none. Nada. Zilch. Still, the Oncologist will only concede that the other 3 docs disagree with him -- not that my adrenal glands aren't involved. The Oncologist hasn't even verbally acknowledged to me that I have limited stage disease, even though all the tests, clinical data, and the other 3 docs (including the Radiologist who interpreted all the scans I've had) show that my adrenal glands are not involved. Bottom line -- keep asking, and then keep asking some more, and then insist if you have to that your treatment team act as a TEAM and communicate. From now on, I will not have anything done, especially not something invasive, until I have agreement by all 4 docs, and the recommendation of the Pulmonologist who literally saved my life Memorial Day weekend. I wish you and your father the best -- it's what he deserves, and it sometimes means you have to fight the "establishment" in order to get to the truth. Dianne

MaryAnn -- ain't it the truth! I'm with you -- whatever gives me reason to hope is good! Speaking of hope -- I hope you will post a lot, because I love looking at that cute little picture you have with your posts!! Dianne