Picking Up The Pieces

When life throws you a curve ball, you have to re-evaluate your position in life.  You have to pick up the pieces from what’s changed and put them back together in a new way.  You may even have to release some parts of your prior life in order to make room for the new chapter that’s beginning.  We have to embrace the change in order to incorporate it into our lives and not be stymied by the upheaval.

There are many defining moments in life that create change.  What we forget in times of fluidity and peace is that change is inevitable.  Few of us get out of this life alive without challenges, for those are what make this life school a life-long learning process.  If we were only to enjoy smooth sailing for a lifetime then we wouldn’t have a chance to grow.  By enduring these challenges, we experience change.  Life school allows us to connect with others who have endured similar situations in ways that we wouldn’t have been able to otherwise.  Nobody can understand how devastating a cancer diagnosis is if you haven’t experienced it yourself.  Nobody understands the all-encompassing grief that comes with losing a loved one if you haven’t been through it.  Empathy comes when you’ve walked a similar path with compassion.

I confess that I would have preferred to not have endured many of the challenges presented to me.  I could have done without the trying times that threatened to drown me.  But I persevered and through faith, love and friendship, I am still here.

I’ve been through a plethora of life changes as I am sure you have too.  Some have been good changes, while others defined me in ways I never thought possible.  Breast cancer, deaths of friends, family and loved ones, divorce, financial difficulties, Alzheimer’s in loved ones, just to name a few of the big ones.  Through these defining moments of upheaval and life changing events, I have learned one thing for sure:  I can survive and remain who I am innately and even be improved by having endured the changes.  Challenges, failures and triumphs sprinkled with love, hope, faith and kindness make all the difference.

Keep shining your heartlights!

Shine On!

xo

It’s Just The Circle Of Life

I don’t mean any disrespect when I write – It’s just the circle of life.  It’s more of a factual statement than one which diminishes the emotion of birth to death.  As humans, we have experienced our own birth and someday we will experience our own death.  We may even experience by proxy, the death of friends, family and loved ones.  As women, we may even experience the gift of giving birth.

As a breast cancer survivor, I have experienced the thought of death as well.  Perhaps it’s not just those of us with illnesses that know the darkness that shrouds the fear at death’s door.  But it becomes a rite of passage when we are diagnosed with a disease which is a known killer.  It’s how we deal with that threat that the disease can take our lives which varies, person to person.

There’s no right way to deal with a breast cancer diagnosis and each of us who have heard those words, ‘you have cancer’ can attest to the fact that our lives completely change in a moment.  Forevermore we live with the threat that it won’t be cured or that it will return with a vengeance.  We fear the cancer, the treatment and the cloud that perpetually hangs back, in our peripheral view for the rest of our lives.  We mourn the loss of good health that we once had.  We crumble in the dark late at night fearing the worst, yet hoping for the best, making promises to the Universe or to God with pleas for strength, for one more day, for a cure, for peace.

We endure pain in order to be cured, yet the psyche many times does not ever find peace again to heal our spiritual self.  I have seen people who have become broken shells of their former selves after a diagnosis, never to fully regain the momentum of life afterwards for the fear of the cancer returning never leaves us.  Even if we put it in the back of our minds or try to totally erase it from our view, its specter awaits, lurking for the next lump’s arrival, the next battery of tests that are not within normal range, the next procedure to investigate some abnormality in the body.  It doesn’t really ever end.

I am coming up on 16 years since I was diagnosed and I can attest that it never ends.  Sure, we can go on merrily with our lives, hoping our happy-go-lucky charade continues to not provoke questions from others as to our health status.  We can cry at night when things aren’t good, but nobody understands this unless you have endured it.  We can be strong when needed and mask our fears to the masses.  After awhile, we even believe ourselves until something happens to knock us off-kilter and wham, we are back again in the throes of fear and wondering if the circle of life is at its end.

I understand dear friends.  I truly do.  Even the word remission is not a peaceful feeling as it only masks the tingling sensation of peace for the moment and the trembling fear of if/when the other shoe will drop again.

I don’t know why I am writing this post today.  It seems to be flowing out of me at a supersonic speed.  My fingers type so quickly and yet I am not sure if I am even making sense.  I’ve had many scares over the years.  Tumor markers which are higher than normal, lumps that have to be biopsied, scary tests to endure all while knowing that could be in store.  Crying in the night or during the day when nobody’s home.  Feeling the whoosh of relief when the doctor proclaims it’s ok for now.  Reliving the nightmares of past experiences knowing I’m on my own.  It’s hard, but we can live through the experience and keep going.  That’s the common denominator really.  Keep waking up to a new day.  Nightfall is hardest I know – that dead of night overwhelming feeling which is only diminished by sleep.  And the realization as dawn comes that we must face the reality in our situation.  I’m here for you.  I have been there and I feel blessed that I am still here to walk with you when you need a friend.

The circle of life begins and ends in a momentous way – birth and death – bringing the light of our souls into the world and then allowing the extinguishing of our soul light to be free.

Shine On!

xo

P.S.  I’m fine, so no worries.  I don’t know why this post wrote itself today, but it did. xo

 

via Daily Prompt: Circle

Tips to Survive MRI Breast Scan From Someone Who Knows

It’s hard enough to have questionable health issues, but to endure testing to find out the results is an added necessary burden.  Have you ever had an MRI?  You can have them for all different health problems.  I have endured MRI’s for brain and breast scans, neither of which are fun.  But then, no test is fun, there I said it.  I feel for you.  I’ve been there.  I don’t know what’s harder, the test itself, the wait time for the answer or the dealing with whatever the result is.

But below are a few tips that may help you or a loved one in case you need an MRI, in no particular order:

You can’t have any metal on you when you are in the MRI machine.  Watches must come off because they will be stopped by the machine.  You can probably keep your gold jewelry on, but the technician may tell you to take it all off and put it in your locker where your clothes are because you’ve changed into that fashionable hospital gown.  You know the one, right?  Lucky for us, they will probably give you two like they gave me.  First one opens in the front, second opens in the back so there’s no peek-a-boo affect!  Oh-la-la!

Go to the bathroom right before you have the procedure.  Remember how your Mom told to you to go pee-pee before you left the house?  Well, you will be in the MRI machine, not able to move for a bit so better to try to go again before you get strapped down for at least 30 minutes.  Because, it’s so uncomfortable to have to resist the urge to stop an MRI because you need to go.  You know how it is, if you need to go and you are strapped into a loud cranky machine and aren’t allowed to move, your mind will fill up with thoughts of the bathroom and it will be hard to stay calm and not move.  And you can’t just get up, run to the potty and finish the test.  Nope, you have to stay there, from start to finish in the same position.

When they put you in the machine, you will be asked to NOT MOVE for the entire time.  So make sure you are as comfortable as humanly possible before the professional leaves the room.  I’ve had MRI’s where I had to be in a certain position that was very uncomfortable in order to have the test.  Sometimes you just have to be in that position no matter what, but occasionally, you can have the position adjusted BEFORE the test begins.  The key here is BEFORE because you can’t change position once it starts.  It never hurts to ask.

Make sure they give you earplugs ~ the machine clanks LOUDLY and you are in a tube which makes the sound reverberate.  Earplugs don’t seem to help, but it’s even worse when you don’t have them.  Years ago, they didn’t give you earplugs and it felt deafening to be in the machine.

TELL the professional if you are a claustrophobic.  THIS IS IMPORTANT!  Some tests will allow a relaxing medicine (prescription from your doctor before you go to the MRI) to be taken 30 minutes prior to help with the phobia and there are cases in which you can request an OPEN MRI which would help immensely if you are indeed claustrophobic.

For the breast scans, I have gone by myself before and since I know what to expect, it’s not as bad.  Ok, it’s not great either.  Breast scans have the patient laying face down (like the photo above) so you can see nothing except the sheet that covers the platform on which you are laying.  Your arms are above your head so that the radiologist can see your breasts.  I will tell you that for me, it is terribly uncomfortable to have my right side that way.  In fact, my back muscles went into spasm once and I called to the technician.  She came in and helped me to reposition myself and made sure I was still in position for the best possible test results, but I was able to have my arm oustretched to get into the machine and then under her supervision, was able to bend my arm against the machine so that it was comfortable once I was fully in the machine.  It made a world of difference for me.

The object here to get the test done in the shortest amount of time with the best results while you are as comfortable as possible.  To get all 3 pieces is a huge win-win.  Your technician is a big help in this because they want you to have a good experience and they need to get the job done. 

Working together is key here.

You are not alone in the MRI machine.  You have a ball in your hand to squeeze in case you need help and your technician (who is in the next room) will respond.  There is also an audio whereby you can hear the technician tell you what to expect  ~ test for 8 minutes, the contrast is now starting, etc. and you can respond verbally as well.

You can have an MRI with and without contrast.  Without getting too technical, with contrast means that you will have an IV inserted before you go into the MRI machine room.  Once you are settled into position in the machine, the technician will connect your IV to the contrast for use later as the first set of MRI images will be without the contrast.

My advice is to drink water before you go to the test and to drink water afterwards to flush your system of the contrast.  Drinking water before hydrates you (hence take the potty break right before) and allows your veins to be nice and plump so that the IV is inserted quickly, easily and pretty painlessly.  If you don’t hydrate, then it’s harder to find a good vein, the prick hurts more and veins can get blown, which means you have to get stuck again in a different vein.  That, my friends, is never fun and I’ve had a ton of experience with that piece.

When the technician tells you the contrast is coming, you will feel it in your veins.  You may have felt something already, a little bit of cold fluid which is the saline solution to make sure that all flows properly.  You will know the contrast is entering your veins because you will taste a metallic ink in your mouth and may even feel a warmth in your body.  You may even feel like you’ve (ahem) peed yourself (for lack of a better term), but don’t worry.  It’s simply the sensation because remember, you’ve already gone potty before you got into the machine.  Once the contrast is delivered, the machine will clank again as it repeats the same imaging as before, only this time with the contrast in your body.

So what do you do while you are waiting for the whole episode to be over?  It’s loud in the machine and time for me, feels like it stops completely.  I have tried to sing songs to myself ~ made up rap songs to the rat-a-tat-tat of the clanking machine ~ I’ve tried to find a mantra to say along with the rhythmic clanging ~ I can do this…I am healthy…All is well…God please be with me…etc.  I have tried to pray the rosary even, but as my mind has a hard time focusing I only almost prayed 2 mysteries.  But perhaps you’ll find something to do to make the time go by easier.

I have had techs who have been diligent in telling me, “Ok, this test is for 8 minutes…now this one is for 10” and so on…and I have had others whom I thought had left the building as I hardly ever heard from them so I guess it’s just the luck of the draw.  My favorite line from any of them has always been, “Ok, the test is over.  Stay still, I’m coming in,” as I drew a huge sigh of relief that it was over.

I’ve been woozy afterwards with all of the fears now over, the test now over and I am now having to stand up after being face down for 45 minutes.  Take your time.  If you feel light-headed, TELL the professional as if you faint, the EMS come and it’s a big deal.  If you can take your time and simply stay calmer, it helps.  I know that those of us who are fainters (yup, me too) don’t always have any notice that they are going down, but if you do, please tell them.  Believe me, you don’t want the EMS there because you fainted because the test was finally over.  You want to do a happy dance that it’s over and get out of there!

I hope you found a tidbit or two to help you through ~ I have been there, done that, so if you have any questions or want to share your experience below, please do!  I am here for you if you need a friend.  I understand ~ here’s my hand, hold on.  We’ll get you through this together!

Shine On!

xo

P.S.  Thanks to my sweet readers who shared their experiences below and gently reminded me about the contrast sensation.  You rock Rhonda and Cordelia’s Mom. ♥

 

 

Pink Post Gratitude to Lisa Boncheck Adams

Every person has a story. So, too, does each chair.

There is comfort in routine.

Some people are superstitious. Sometimes they want the same chemo nurse, the same appointment time, the same chair. “If it is working don’t mess with it” applies to many things about treating cancer.

I am always thinking about continuity and the stories that objects tell. I’ve written twice about the tape measure my plastic surgeon used to measure me before surgery. I’ll post those pieces again this month.

Whenever I sit in a chair in a doctor’s office I think about all of the people who have sat in that chair before I have.

Each person has a story. So, too, does each chair. That chair is the starting point for this piece from 2011.

………………………….

“I think so too”

That chair you’re sitting in?
I’ve sat in it too.
In waiting rooms. Chemo rooms. Prep rooms. For tests. Surgeries. Procedures. Radiation. Inpatient. Outpatient. Emergency visits. Routine visits. Urgent visits. To see generalists. Specialists. Surgeons. Alone. With friends. With family members. As a new patient. Established patient. Good news. Bad news. I’ve left with new scars. Prescriptions. Appointments. Words of wisdom. Theories. Guesses. Opinions. Statistics. Charts. Plans. Tests. Words of assurance. More bloodwork. Nothing new. Nothing gained. Nothing but a bill.

That feeling you’re having?
I’ve had it too.
Shock. Disbelief. Denial. Grief. Anger. Frustration. Numbness. Sadness. Resignation. Confusion. Consternation. Curiosity. Determination. Dread. Anxiety. Guilt. Regret. Loss. Pain. Emptiness. Embarrassment. Shame. Loneliness.

That day you’re dreading?
I’ve dreaded it too.
The first time you speak the words, “I have cancer.” The first time you hear “Mommy has cancer.” Anniversary day. Chemo day. Surgery day. PET scan day. Decision day. Baldness day. The day the options run out.

Those reactions you’re getting?
I’ve had them too.
Stares. Questions. Pity. Blank looks. Insensitivity. Jaw-dropping comments. Tears. Avoidance.

Those side effects you dread?
I’ve dreaded them too.
Nausea. Vomiting. Pain. Broken bones. Weakened heart. Baldness. Hair loss. Everywhere. Unrelenting runny nose. Fatigue. Depression. Hot flashes. Insomnia. Night sweats. Migraines. Loss of appetite. Loss of libido. Loss of breasts. Phantom pain. Infection. Fluid accumulation. Bone pain. Neuropathy. Numbness. Joint pain. Taste changes. Weight gain. Weight loss. Mouth sores. Fevers. Anemia.

That embarrassment you’re feeling?
I’ve felt it too.
Buying a swimsuit. Getting a tight-fitting shirt stuck on my body in the dressing room. Having a child say “You don’t have any eyebrows, do you?” Asking the grocery line folks to “make the bags light, please.” Wearing a scarf. Day after day. Wondering about wearing a wig because it’s windy outside and it might not stay on. Holding on to the bannister for dear life. Passing out in public.

That fear you’re suppressing?
I’ve squelched it too.
Will this kill me? When? How bad is chemo going to be? How am I going to manage 3 kids and get through it? Will my cancer come back and take me away from my life? Will it make the quality of life I have left so bad I won’t want to be here anymore? Is this pain in my back a recurrence? Do I need to call a doctor? What is worse: the disease or the treatment?

That day you’re yearning for?
I’ve celebrated it too.
“Your counts are good” day. “Your x-ray is clear” day. “Now you can go longer between appointments” day. “See you in a year” day. First-sign-of-hair day. First-day-without-covering-your-head day. First taste of food day. First Monday chemo-isn’t-in-the-calendar day. Expanders-out, implants-in day. First walk-without-being-tired day. First game-of-catch-with-the-kids day. First day out for lunch with friends day. First haircut day. “Hey, I went a whole day without thinking about cancer” day. “Someone asked me how I’m doing, I said ‘fine’ and I meant it” day.

That hope you have?

I have it too:
More research. Easier access. Targeted therapy. Effective treatments. Better quality of life. More options. Longer life. Less toxicity. Fewer guesses.

Ultimately, someday, for my children or grandchildren perhaps: a cure.

Don’t you think that would be amazing?
I think so too.

** I am so moved by Lisa’s story and this post that I had to share ~ thanks for reading.  I think it makes no difference whether you are fighting breast cancer like we have or any other illness.  We can bond together to heal…that’s the most important piece of the puzzle.

Shine On!

xo

Friendship Comes in All Colors

A friend is one of the nicest things you can have, and one of the best things you can be. -Douglas Pagels

Sometimes just a diagnosis of an illness, breast cancer or not, can be isolating.  Think about it.  Any type of bad news can have this same affect on us ~ the death of a family member, friend, loved one, the diagnosis of our own disease or illness or that of a loved one ~ the death of a marriage, a friendship, a relationship ~ a change in a loved one (domestic violence, drugs, jail) ~ any heart stopping trauma usually is isolating to us at the time.  It’s up to us to see how much we let it affect us and what we do with those feelings.

It’s hard to reach out when you’re in that whirlwind of change.  The trauma many times cuts to our inner core, shakes up what we had thought we had control over and then leaves us as if we’d been thrown into a washing machine on high spin ~ only to be so dizzy by the news that we can only sit in the corner and watch the world go around.  It seems too hard to get up to move sometimes after this happens.  It’s simply mind-numbing no matter the situation.

And that’s where friendships begin and end.

It’s where the hand of friendship reaches out and doesn’t judge, but simply holds in it much love and comfort.  You don’t have to understand what’s going on with a friend in order to be a friend.  You just have to know when to listen, when to hug and when to hold hands.  It’s that simple and much appreciated!  For what you give out, you get back a hundred fold!  There’s no greater return on investment than true friendship!

So whether you need a friend or you can be a friend or both ~ today’s the day to be inspired ~ today’s your day to smile at someone else!  Wouldn’t it be nice to cast a bit of sunshine out to someone else today?  I know you can do it!  We are all here together to help each other to Shine On!  So get out your sparkle and let’s go!

I’m sending BIG HUGS, Happy Smiles and I’m holding my hand out to you!

Grasp my hand and let’s SOAR!

Shine On!

xo

Pink Once A Week

Lately I’ve been just going with the flow in my life, but I’ve been dabbling in writing a book or two as well.  It seems to me when we breast cancer patients finish treatment, we are sent out into the world with less than nothing in order to rebuild our lives.  As an 11 year survivor, I’m finding that there are so many women out there who are asking as I did, “What now?” because quite frankly, it’s a bit overwhelming.

First there’s the simple grieving process of being diagnosed, with the subsequent surgeries ranging from a lumpectomy to a full double mastectomy which is enough to depress the happiest of souls followed by the reconstruction surgeries which may or may not take place at the same time.  Most times we endure chemotherapy which as the meds designed to kill cancer cells, slowly changes our body chemistry as well, we endure hair loss including baldness, depression, nausea, aches, pains, weight gain and hot flashes, none which are sexy or fun.  Afterwards, we may have radiation treatment daily which tires us out and gives us a mean sunburn among other things.

And then, we’re set free ~ off to a world filled with pink ribbons and we are handed a survivor sign to commemorate our cancer journey.

But what about the new normal that we’re trying so desperately to find?  It’s a hard road to get used to implants or being breast-less or multiple surgeries.  It’s a process to accept our new bodies with the restrictions surrounding them.  Self-esteem, self-confidence and self-acceptance need to improve so that we can feel good about ourselves and that’s simply NOT just a breast cancer thing either!

So that’s what I’m writing about ~ I want to give a class on it ~ I want to help women who are looking for a friend  to hold her hand as we travel along this road together.  It’s the beautiful thing about women who’ve endured breast cancer.  None of us have wanted to join this group, but since we are all here, we bond.

You can meet a stranger who has breast cancer and instantly, there’s a bond of knowing and understanding which forms quite literally in moments.  We’ve been there and we understand each other.  Have you found that happens to you?  I think it’s human nature to bond with others of similar circumstances.  I know I’ve bonded with others who’ve been grieving over the loss of a parent since my dad passed away last year.  It’s when we open up and connect with each other that healing can take place.

So if you’re interested, let me know because I’d like to write a bit more about it here on my blog.  But I’m testing the waters first because many of my readers aren’t breast cancer survivors ~ but since we’ve all experienced sadness in our lives (at least most of us), I thought it could help others as well since I like the glass half full approach!

What do you think?  Would you appreciate just once a week breast cancer help? 

Please let me know!  Just click on the Poll below!   Thank you!

Shine On!

xo

Daily Prompt: Shoulda Woulda Coulda Confession

Daily Prompt: Shoulda Woulda Coulda

Tell us about something you know you should do . . . but don’t.

Ok, here goes…I’ve got a confession to make and I hope you don’t run away.  Lately this topic has been coming at me in all different ways so I guess this daily prompt was the last straw because you see, I’m a CLUTTERBUG.  There, I said it.  I’m not a hoarder (at least not like what you see with garbage piled up everywhere).  Oh no…that’s not me at all!  I’m not that far gone!  But I have slid from the girl who was always well organized to one where I have stashes of clutter in boxes, in closets, under the bed and in my office.  In fact, I have to tell you honestly how much it bothers me that I can’t throw things out.  Now again, let’s be clear here…it’s not garbage that is piling up in those places, it’s just stuff ~ memories ~ my prom gown from 25+ years ago, my 2 wigs that I wore when I lost my hair to chemo, old clothes that I think I shouldn’t throw out in case I gain or lose weight, old shoes that perhaps may come back into style, books that I would like to someday read, old toys of the kids that they adored, tons of  paperwork that I think I may need from my cancer diagnosis over 11 years ago, I could go on and on!

I have old calendars, I have old letters (boxes of them), old notebooks with stories written in them that someday (ahem) I may make into a book.  I have pony tail holders from when my hair was long, I have stashes of “what if I need this” piled high in closets which are finally driving me crazy enough to do something about them.

Because I am finally feeling like I have the energy to tackle this stuff…albeit I”m not sure I can really do it on my own.  Because to me, those things evoke memories and I’m afraid that if I throw them out or donate them or sell them, that the memory will vanish when the item is released as well.  And it’s a fine line for me considering that I’ve been living with chemo brain fog for a long time and it’s never come back much to my disappointment.

I just did a tapping seminar online which dealt with clutter which really opened my eyes to the reason for my clutter.  Because I”m not a lazy person at heart.  Honest.  Although to others who are not clutterbugs, it does seem like I am just too lazy to put things away or to throw out what’s not being used.  But that’s not the case and it was a huge relief in my heart to take this seminar and realize that I’m not alone in my feelings nor my situation and that yes, it can improve and be solved!  In fact, it delved into the psyche of a cluttered life and I think I’ve realized the beginning ~ 11 years ago when I was diagnosed with cancer!  That was the start, although it was gradual, but it just piled up to the point of immense sadness, trauma both to my body, mind and heart and it was earth-shattering to me to realize what the catalyst was for it and how it can be changed and fixed and solved.  I can’t even begin to explain to you how this seminar simply cracked open my heart with tears and emotions flooding my being because I hadn’t realized how much the clutter and the guilt of the situation was hurting my psyche, my daily life and affecting me in such a profound way.

To others, it’s clutter….just clean it up.  To me, it was something else entirely and with the tapping seminar (which was free that day), it just came to me in the most healing way.  Now I just need a friend to hold my hand and help me to continue on my journey with it so that I can get it done and move on!  Because even though I’d thought I’d moved on, I was stuck and I’m just now unsticking myself from the trauma of being diagnosed with breast cancer.  I’m not making excuses for myself, but I am learning more about myself and discovering that I had covered up much pain with the clutter.  Like a protective shell around my life and heart and I want to be free of it now.  It doesn’t serve me anymore and I want to be clear, to be happy and to be clutter free.

Part of the shame, the sadness and the fear in clutter has to do with control.  It’s almost a punishment if you will (I’m loosely quoting this online course) to the person who is the clutterbug because we don’t feel worthy of having a perfect house or of knowing where things are or of being able to live with the memories and not the item to call them up.  I’ve read of people who take pictures of their gown so that they can remember it, but knowing me, the picture would end up in a pile somewhere and I’d be finding it in another 10 year (although a snapshot would certainly free up the closet space!)

Do you have this issue?  Do you hide it as well?  On the outside, I try to keep the public rooms of the house in a tidy condition.  With an active family and pets it’s a bit difficult, but I manage.  But I don’t want you upstairs in my house.  I want it private for fear that you’ll think badly of me because of my unorganized stock piles!  What would you think if you walked into my office and when you opened the door, a barrage of paperwork greeted you?  I know how I’d feel if you saw it ~ humiliated, sad, upset, ashamed, guilty, unloved, aggravated.

So my public flogging is over ~ I’ve aired my clutter laundry and I’m going to continue on my quest for a happier, clutter-free me.  I actually started throwing out paperwork yesterday.  I spent 3 hours in the office and I have 3 huge garbage bags to be shred.  I am also getting rid of a bunch of the kids’ toys and now my job is to find a place which needs gently used toys.

And as I sit here tap tap tapping away on the keyboard and alternating tapping on my pressure points on my body, I want to do a shout out to Elisa at http://elisacashiola.com/  who inspired me to work on my office over a year ago with the promise of helping me Feng Shui it (which is still on hold but not for long)!   Check out her blog because she’s got some amazing tips on how to make your house a home!  In fact, she helped me move my mirror from my front door and I felt the change…now imagine how powerful I’m to be when I am clutter-free!

Woo Hoo!  Fellow clutterbugs unite ~ or better yet

Let’s UNTIE ourselves from the bonds of clutter! 

Ready, Set…GO!

Shine On!

xo

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