Breaking News: Ma

I am breaking with the Memory Lane reveries to bring some breaking news in the family about Ma, family matriarch. Since Donnie's mother died in 1999, my mother, shown here with Lizzie, has become the family matriarch. One sort of expects matriarchs to go on forever, and those who have read my book, Blest Atheist, certainly know that Ma was not a model mother but very abusive. Nonetheless, a mother is a mother, and a matriarch is a matriarch. One does not think about the death of matriarchs. Nonetheless, that is the situation we are facing -- maybe -- right now.


Two days ago Ma, who has always been strong as a horse (comes from living on a farm), had a massive stroke that has paralyzed her right side and voice (extremely frustrating for her because she is a talker -- one listens, she talks). Today, the doctors determined that she cannot swallow and will need a feeding tube to live, but they are giving her the choice whether to have the feeding tube or not since she is coherent and can communicate by nods. There is also the complication that the surgery to put in the tube could be deadly because her high blood pressure is still not contained.

She was, at first, leaning against the tube but is now leaning toward it. The cboice is to battle on or rest in peace. It is rare that one really has a choice in which both versions are so different but can be right and natural.

While her 8 children would like to weigh in on the decision, of course, we are all giving her the space to make the decision without influence.

Prayers, please, for the grace to make the choice a spiritual one.

Nikolina, A Few Years Later

I think when my logs got hijacked, Nikolina was still a toddler. Well, she is now in first grade! For those who have followed her from her Miracle Baby status at Stanford University Hospital through the hack date, I have exciting news.

She not only survived, but she thrived. She is a happy, pretty, bright little girl today who loves to ride therapy horses, does well in schools, handles technilogy with zest, and spins around in her wheelchair with zip. She actually can walk, but slowly, with hot pink braces.

School was a challenge medically, but the school invited my daughter-in-law to come to school all day every day in case of medical urgencies and emergencies, and that has worked. Nikolina is not overwhelmed by Mommy, because Mommy helps out all the classes yet is close by for changing ostomy bags or recognizing the need for a dash to the local hospital in Sacramento -- as y'all might recall, they were in the process of moving there when the blog went blank -- or a longer ride to Stanford.

As for all the rest of it, Nikolina leads a normal litlte girl's life: she has birthday parties and goes to birthday parties, loves her cat and big brother, visits Disneyland, plays with other kids, and anything else one would imagine as part of a child's life.

Never out of the woods but oh, so far from the beginning of the path...and so much more light shining through the trees!

If you take Nexium...

Donnie has a theory that once you start seeing a doctor for one problem, it is all down hill from there. One problem becomes two, two become three...

I am not sure that I agree with this theory of progression, but I am not surprised that medicines -- chemicals we were not born with -- can have some unhappy side effects.

Recently, I was diagnosed with Barrett's Esophagus, a pre-cancer of the esophagus. Nexium, which controls GERD (apparently, half of my friends suffer from this; my own situation is that the GERD is a result of my 37-year-old hiatal hernia) and usually does a pretty good, at least for me, has some side effects, about which my doctor did not warn me, so I found out in an unpleasant way.

A few months ago, I had to have a root canal redone. The endodontist is unsure whether some of the root that had been resorbed would grow back up. Time will tell.

Then, during a routine cleaning and x-ray, the dentist discovered an empty space deep in another tooth and sent me back to the endodontist. He was puzzled. It was resorption. He told me he had no explanation for it, but he could state positively that treatment would be painful since I am allergic to painkiller.

Potential pain turned out to the least of my problems. (I say that with the treatment still pending...) I do not believe that there is "no discernible reason" for problems, so I did some research. It turns out that bone resorption (a good example is teeth) can be a side effect of Nexium.

Now, I am putting much calcium into my body to replace the calcium constantly being stolen by Nexium. Since I cannot give up the Nexium without risking cancer, then lots of milk and calcium pills are on my daily schedule.

Thought I would share in case any followers are also taking Nexium. Ask your doctor about possible resorption -- and good luck.

Doah on Mom's Cooking

My cooking is well known -- for how bad it is. In fact, the topic figured prominently in Doah's book, Mommy Poisoned Our House Guest.

My mother gave up on teaching me to cook years ago, saying that it was too expensive because I ruined so much of what I touched. My kids quickly learned that it was better to have Donnie do the cooking, and I could almost always get them to do whatever I asked by threatening to cook.

There is, however, one thing I can cook well: ham. So, for this new year's New Year dinner, I made a ham. Now, we usually go out to dinner on special occasions since it really is only Donnie, Doah, and I. However, this year, it was rainy and cold and seemed perfect for a ham dinner and fire in the fireplace. Doah was not so certain, however. Right after that, he ran hollering to Donnie, "Come quick! Mom's cooking!" Then, begged him not to let me do it.

I captured Doah's concern right before shutting the oven door.

PS. The ham turned out excellent, by the way!

In my last post, I referred to St. Francis as the "inspirator" of Sula, the parish cat at Old Mission. Perhaps some thought that was because St. Francis is the patron saint of cats. Perhaps others thought that that was because the Franciscans built Old Mission. I imagine no one, or almost no one, thought I meant it literally. But I wonder...take a look at the picture above of Sula, seeming to be taking her daily orders from St. Francis on the mission grounds. (Snapped by one of the docents.)

Sula, Parish Cat

Somewhat over two years ago, on my 100th Lamb blog, I related a story of how Sula, our parish cat at Old Mission, shown here in the Nativity scene this year, comes to confession. She also rarely misses a Mass.

I have come to know Sula well over the years, so it seems logical to include some mention of her on my "family" blog. Sula is almost ten years old, including her days of fighting cancer. She often comes up to me at Mass, but she only sits with me when I need some natural comfort.

Well, Sula has become somewhat famous these days. An article I wrote about her was published in the December 2015 Guideposts Magazine as "A Cat with a Mission." Guideposts synopsized the story on its website.

Then, this week, the Hollister Freelance (California paper) carried Sula's story in a touching piece, "Cat on a Mission."

Both articles had excellent pictures, including some that were not in the publications. If you find the Christmas picture endearing, check out these other two sites.

And, please, stand by. Sula is writing her own book, Surviving Cancer, Healing People: One Cat's Story (MSI Press), due out in February (or maybe a tad later). The purpose is to raise money to retrofit her mission home against earthquakes.

So, here is the proverbial ending: "more later."

Have a relaxing weekend -- and find some time to be with Sula's Divine Inspirator, the good Lord (and St. Francis).

Intrepid Needs Prayers

Tomorrow we take Intrepid back to the very special vet in Santa Cruz (a long trip for us) for his umpteenth follow-up. He eats like a pig but is skinny as a snake's shed carcas. According to the local vet, there is no hope for him because his kidneys and pancreas are functioning at less than optimum levels. We were told that the only thing we can do is feed him chicken but without expectation for improvement. So, we took him to a specialist, who did new blood tests and found out why his organs are not functioning properly, as well as why he keeps throwing up and has lost nearly three pounds (of an original 12 pounds; vet says 10 1/2 is his proper weight). So, things are looking up, but we are aware that the reason he is not flourishing is malabsorption and that this is a chronic and life-shortening condition. He is just such a neat little cat that we want to do whatever we can to help him last as happily as possible as long as possible.

He started life as a scruffy little thing. He was found in 2005 in the grass, sans mother, by a professor who worked for me in Amman, Jordan, a country where pets are not common. The professor knew that Dr. Elizabeth would take care of the little thing, and he brought him to me. He was a starving little thing, and I could hear him crying the entire length of the three-landing staircase. When he discovered the food bowl, he did not leave it for two weeks, except to use the litter box. He even slept beside it. In time, he learned to play and explore, earning his name. Once weaned from life beside the food bowl, his curiosity led him to test and try out everything. There was nothing he was afraid of; that continues to this day. In fact, when we took him to the vet on an emergency trip a couple of Sundays ago, the vet on duty commented on the fact that he attempted to stare him down. "Mr. Look Me Straight in the Eye," he called him and explained that feral cats have no fear of looking people in the eye the way that domestic cats tend to.

Well, back to the vet tomorrow. Please say a few prayers for our "Trep."

Too Big for the Bed

I forgot to provide an update on the "other" Mahlous, the cats. They are doing well, and in the past two years, we have acquired two new cats, Happy Cat and Wooper, who join Murjan, Intrepid, and Simone.

Murjan is the largest cat, nearly double the size of Intrepid, whom he raised from kittenhood. Nonetheless, he tries to fit in everywhere.

Today he found one of the larger cat beds, which he fills completely, in the sun by the sliding glass door onto the deck. He quickly curled himself into it -- well, as much as would fit.

Happy New Year, Murjan!

Back after two years of website hijackings! No longer MIA! I think those interested in the sites have realized that I am not ever going to capitulate to the exortion to get them back (pay us $$ and we will give you back your site/domain) or purchase a neworx or whatever it is going to take to clear up the site. Time is a friend, and time seems to have returned my blogsites to me. So, I am back!

Quick update:

Donnie is, well, still Donnie, but Doah is writing a book about him, called Daddy Waited.

Lizzie has married. Post coming. Handsome black dude from Caribbean and an overall good guy.

Noelle continues to live independently, with Ray, who died four years ago (how did so much time pass?). She proofreads books, something that she can do at home -- and does well.

Shane moved to Sacramento as part of his job with the California Highway Patrol. He is now teaching for CHP, which makes his hours a lot better for family time. Nathaniel was 14 (!!) on Christmas Day, and Nikolina has both survived and thrived. She is now 6 and in first grade. Mom has to go to school with her everyday to manage any unpleasant medical interruptions, but otherwise, Nikolina is just another little school girl, something that most of her doctors and nurses doubted would happen.

Doah is, well, still Doah. Still living in a group home nearby and still finding ways to keep his caretakers and us on our toes. It kinda says something when all the police and sheriffs know him! (Fortunately, they also like him.)

Posts forthcoming on all the above.

Waiting expectantly to hear all of your updates!

Happy New Year!

Unsecret Santa

A couple of years ago, we heard about the Secret Santa movement--a movement that seems to be secret in itself. Secret Santas go to department stores around Christmas time and pay off the layaways that are still there. Dozens of people find themselves pleasantly surprised for Christmas when they receive a special call from the layaway department. No one ever knows who these Secret Santas are because, well, they are secret Santas. They work out a deal with the clerks at the layaway counters or with the store managers, pay off whatever number of packages, and then leave. I suppose the clerks may know their names unless they are paying for all those packages in cash. If the clerks know, though, they never say.

Donnie and I became intrigued with the Secret Santa movement a couple of years ago although we cannot be considered well off. In fact, we have to scrape dollars and sometimes even change together to get our last few meals of the month before our next paychecks arrive. (It is not that my job does not pay a decent salary; it does. The problem is that all of Shane's money and much of ours goes to keeping our $3M [so far] granddaughter, Nikolina [see sidebar], alive and smiling. One of only three OEIS Complex survivors in the world, she is now a plucky, happy four-year-old but requires close medical monitoring and special supplies. I will write an update soon.)

While we do not have the finances to be Secret Santas, lack of money has never stopped us. So, a couple of days before Christmas we go to our local Kmart, where we can use our Sears card, ask the layaway clerk to find a package with toys in it, and pay it off. (We figure that if there are toys, there are children, and, who knows, without those toys, Christmas might be rather barren. We also figure that if they have not been picked up by December 23, the parents are probably struggling financially and may not be able to come up with the remaining amount. After the store calls the recipient, we sneak out. It is crazy fun!

This year, though, a lady walked into the layaway department as we waiting for the one clerk to find a package for us. The second clerk waited on the newly arrived lady, who had paid about 2/3 of the cost of the layaway but was short of cash for Christmas food. She wanted to turn in the layaway and get what she had paid into it back so that she could feed her kids.

While the second clerk looked for her package, we talked to the lady. She told us she had five boys (well, there's a challenge), was a single mother, and had just been a little lavish in her desires for the kids for Christmas. Lavish? When the clerk brought out the package there were 1-2 gifts (a t-shirt and a toy or pajamas and a toy) for each boy, and there was a cookware set, obviously for everyone. All together it was more than what we had planned to spend, but it was Christmas, after all, and God is pretty good at refilling our coffers. So, we told the first clerk not to look anymore and explained to the lady what a Secret (un, Unsecret) Santa is.

The layaway clerks excitedly walked with us to the customer service desk, where all the items in the layaway package were turned back in, the lady reimbursed for what she had paid into the layaway, and then all the times were purchased on our Sears card. The customer service desks clerks got into the spirit of things, too, and it seemed like Christmas had arrived a couple of days early.

The lady, whose name we never learned (nor does she know ours), kept iterating her grateful surprise. It clearly seemed a bit unreal to her until it came time for her to leave the store with all her layaway items and more than enough cash in her pocket for holiday food. She gave both Donnie and me a big hug, then revealed that she had not planned to come by the store the evening of the 23d but was planning to come in on the morning of the 24th. She had been returning from work, really tired, really hoping to go home, when she felt so impelled to come to the store that she knew she had to make the extra stop but did not know why. I guess we can all figure out why!

Wishing all a blessed Christmas!

The Christmas Pageant

Another goodie from the Internet loop, sent to me by a friend and, I think, worth sharing:

My husband and I had been happily married (most of the time) for five years

but hadn't been blessed with a baby. I decided to do some serious praying and promised God that if he would give us a child, I would be a perfect mother, love it with  all my heart and raise it with His word as my guide.



God answered my prayers and blessed us with a son. The next year God blessed us

with another son. The following year, He blessed us with yet another son. The year after that we were blessed with a daughter. My husband thought we'd been blessed right into poverty. We now had four children, and the oldest was only four years old.



I learned never to ask God for anything unless I meant it. As a minister once told me, "If you pray for rain, make sure you carry an umbrella." I began reading a few verses of the Bible to the children each day as they lay in their cribs. I was off to a good start. God had entrusted me with four children, and I didn't want to disappoint Him.



I tried to be patient the day the children smashed two dozen eggs on the kitchen floor searching for baby chicks. I tried to be understanding when they started a hotel for homeless frogs in the spare bedroom, although it took me nearly two hours

to catch all twenty-three frogs. When my daughter poured ketchup all over herself and rolled up in a blanket to see how it felt to be a hot dog, I tried to see the humor rather than the mess.



In spite of changing over twenty-five thousand diapers, never eating a hot meal

and never sleeping for more than thirty minutes at a time, I still thank God daily for my children. While I couldn't keep my promise

to be a perfect mother - I didn't even come close - I did keep my promise

to raise them in the Word of God.



I knew I was missing the mark just a little when I told my daughter we were going to church to worship God, and she wanted to bring a bar of soap along to "wash up" Jesus, too. Something was lost in the translation when I explained that God gave us everlasting life, and my son thought it was generous of God to give us his "last wife."



My proudest moment came during the children's Christmas pageant. My daughter was playing Mary, two of my sons were shepherds and my youngest son was a wise man. This was their moment to shine. My five-year-old shepherd had practiced his line, "We found the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes." But he was nervous and said, "The baby was wrapped in wrinkled clothes." My four-year-old "Mary" said, "That's not 'wrinkled clothes,' silly. That's dirty, rotten clothes." A wrestling match broke out between Mary and the shepherd and was stopped by an angel, who bent her halo and lost her left wing.



I slouched a little lower in my seat when Mary dropped the doll representing Baby Jesus, and it bounced down the aisle crying, "Mama-mama." Mary grabbed the doll, wrapped it back up, and held it tightly as the wise men arrived.



My other son stepped forward, wearing a bathrobe and a paper crown, knelt at the manger, and announced, "We are the three wise men, and we are bringing gifts

of gold, common sense and fur." The congregation dissolved into laughter, and the pageant got a standing ovation.



"I've never enjoyed a Christmas program as much as this one," laughed the pastor,

wiping tears from his eyes.  "For the rest of my life, I'll never hear the Christmas story without thinking of gold, common sense, and fur."



"My children are my pride and my joy and my greatest blessing," I said as I dug

through my purse for an aspirin.



Jesus had no servants, yet they called Him Master. He had no degree, yet they called Him Teacher. He had no medicines, yet they called Him Healer. He had no army, yet kings feared Him. He won no military battles, yet He conquered the world. He committed no crime, yet they crucified Him. He was buried in a tomb, yet He lives today. Feel honored to serve such a Leader who loves us.



GOD BLESS YOU ALL!

I think all mothers can relate to the story of the pageant and that we all can take a minute to ponder the wonders of that last paragraph. Wishing you all a blessed Advent and Christmas. Let's not hurry the season; let's experience it fully.

The Techie and the Traditionalist

Today I experienced the perfect example of the techie married to the traditionalist.

We heard some sirens, then I heard noises from Donnie's iPad and asked what was going on. He said he was listening to the dispatch calls to try to find out where the fire in Ignatio was.

I stood up, looked out of our big living room window that overlooks the whole town, pointed to a plume of smoke and several fire engines on Fourth Street, and said, "There it is!"

(Just had to share!)

Sharing Sick Days with Happy Cat

Short burst of news here. I am finishing up a full week of being stuck inside, including 72 hours straight on the sofa, fighting off an upper respiratory infection. Two weeks ago, we rescued Happy Cat, a feral or, more likely, abandoned cat who had been living outside our house, when he got an upper respiratory infection. I came down with this thing soon thereafter and at the follow-up visit told the vet, jokingly, that I think I caught the cat's illness. He said, given the kind of infection it was, that it is entirely possible that this is what happened. I should have asked him for a shot; the one he gave Happy Cat worked. The cat is now well; I am not. Really thinking about a trip to the vet for me tomorrow morning!

Intrepid Changing a Light Bulb, Cat Style

Back to blogging -- if I remember how -- and as time permits. Just dropping into the Clan blog to share a picture of how wonderfully our cats try to help us. Here is Intrepid (appropriately named) helping us change a light bulb.

He is definitely not a bush dweller. Treetops and higher for him!

Dear Clan of Mahlou Blog Readers:

Recently, my life has become quite overwhelming with new responsibilities at work and a number of activities at home along with an increasing desire to finish writing my next book, Raising God's Rainbow Makers, which, I guess, means that I really should be working on it more seriously than I have been able to do up until now. I find that I cannot keep up with posting on a regular basis. For that reason, I will be taking a hiatus of at least several months. I do hope to occasionally post an installment of the "Rainbow" book as I finish various pieces.

Thank you all for being loyal and interactive readers. I have enjoyed getting to know you, and I will continue to pray for the well being of you, your family, and friends.

Elizabeth Mahlou

The Day After

A friend of mine, finding herself with too many leftovers from New Year's Day celebrations packaged them into small bags and cruised the streets of Los Angeles, where she lives, looking for those in need of a special meal. Seems like an excellent idea! Imagine if everyone did that? Let's start a movement -- and not just for New Year's but for every major celebratory day in 2013!

Happy New Year

May the new year bring you much of what you want and more of what you need! Thanks for taking the 2012 journey with me. Looking forward to what 2013 may bring. (I actually stayed awake through the passage into 2013, the first time in more than ten years. I hope this is a good portent of things to come -- for me and for everyone else.)

Four More Days to Help a Hungry Child

Dear Friend, Ending childhood hunger is so important to me that I needed to send you this reminder. If you've been waiting to make a tax-deductible gift to the No Kid Hungry campaign, the time is now. There are only 4 more days until we kick off the New Year, and we're counting on you to make sure we hit the ground running in 2013. You don't have to take my word for why ending childhood hunger is a priority; hear what 17-year-old Austin has to say about his struggle with hunger: "Childhood hunger in America is important to me because it happened to me. It hurts and I hated it and all I wanted was to eat. Too many kids today go home from school and are not sure if they will have a meal that night. It is no joke and we need to do something about it because no kid deserves to go without food." Austin's right: we must end childhood hunger. Too many of our kids are facing hunger. How can our nation's children succeed if they continue to suffer? That's where you come in. I urge you to make your tax-deductible gift to the No Kid Hungry campaign today and take advantage of our special matching gift offer. A generous Share Our Strength donor is personally matching all gifts, up to $500,000, making your gift go twice as far in making a difference in the lives of children struggling with hunger. For example: $46 can connect a child with a summer of meals and a year of school breakfast. Your $46 becomes $92! $100 can help deliver mobile meals to a child in need for three months. Your $100 becomes $200! $250 can help provide meals to a child in an afterschool program for a full school year. Your $250 becomes $500! When you give to the No Kid Hungry campaign, you do more than connect a child with healthy meals. You bring hope to children like Austin who are struggling with hunger. Thanks for all that you do for No Kid Hungry. Best wishes, Jeff Bridges P.S. Please give as generously as you can today — and remember every dollar you give will be matched dollar for dollar to make twice the difference. ©Share Our Strength, 1730 M Street NW, Suite 700, Washington, DC 20036 Website: www.NoKidHungry.org Contact us: contactus@strength.org To unsubscribe: unsubscribe

Christmas and Our Cats

It has been a while since I have blogged about our cats, but come Christmas, they are always on our minds. After all, they definitively limit what we can and cannot do at Christmas.

For example, we cannot have a Christmas tree. Why? Because Intrepid, pictured below with a toy reindeer we bought for Nikolina eats anything with leaves, whether living or plastic. We found that out when we threw out all our denuded plants when he was a kitten and were given a plastic replacement, which he imbibed without our noticing, due to his swiftness, within just a few minutes. Later, with all that plastic inside him, he was in real pain. Thank goodness, we were living in Amman, Jordan at the time, and the vet, who knew us well, came immediately to our house and Intrepid's rescue. Since then, no plants and no trees, not even artificial Christmas ones.

So, we burn the yuletide logs and put up lights (ours are going up this year on Christmas eve, not according to the dictates of traditional Advent, but because it has been raining so much lately that we have not been able to get them up -- it is supposed to stop raining some time on Monday).