Angelina Jolie and Lisa Lynch: What we have in common...and what we don't.

Jolie and Lynch: Two hot mamas who refuse to be defined by their breasts.

What we have in common: 

1. We underwent bilateral mastectomies in February and both recovered fairly quickly.  It's an intense surgery but definitely not the worst pain I've ever been in.  And the reconstruction process is pretty miraculous.  

2. We opted for prophylactic mastectomies, that is removing a healthy breast in the name of cancer prevention.  We differ in that I had cancer in one breast and I opted to remove the other to avoid having to go through the cancer thing again.  Why didn't I opt for a lumpectomy?  I could have, but given the size of the tumor (medium) and the size of my breasts (relatively smallish), the lumpectomy would have left my breast very deformed.  Of course reconstruction has come a long way, but it really would never look all that great.  Also, the chances of getting it again in the same breast and the other non-affected breast over my lifetime was significant - approximately a 1% chance increase per year.  I still have a lot of years left, so I was looking at a good chance of a recurrence, which I honestly didn't want to think about.  Removing both breasts reduced my odds of recurrence to 1-2%.  Why is Jolie's risk of breast cancer higher at 5%?  Probably because she kept her nipples, which gives her a bit more breast tissue.  I opted for remove the nipples because it complicates that surgery, there's a high risk of tissue necrosis and/or losing all feeling and I just wanted the lowest possible odds of getting cancer again.    

I'm sure in the not-to-distant future, this will seem like a barbaric choice because we'll know so much more about the breast cancer. I hope that's the case as there is a lot to learn.     

3. Like me, she's chosen to be open about the ordeal so that others can learn from her experience.  I've touched at least three people through my blog.  Thanks Mom, Kristy and Tom for reading.  (Actually, I recently found out that my mom and sister, Kristy, don't read my blog, so really it's just you, Tom.  Spread the word.)

I admire how Jolie released the news about her choice and how she's leveraging her celebrity to educate other women about their choices.  Almost just as important, it's sparked a conversation around breast cancer   research and the need to go beyond just awareness (ala Susan G Komen and all that pink) to come up with more answers and a cure.  Before you get your undies in a bunch, please note that I think Komen's organization has done an amazing job of elevating the profile of breast cancer.  I also think that we're over pinked to the point where it doesn't mean a ton anymore and the focus needs to shift from driving awareness to actually curing it.  

4. We have the means to pay for testing, surgery and reconstruction and think all women should have the same access to make the right decisions for their health, regardless of income.  I quit totaling up all of the bills from my surgery etcetera, but they're some where in the mid-$100,000's.  The genetic tests I had done - the Oncotype DX to determine if I was a candidate for chemotherapy and the Myriad BRCA test - were $7,000 alone.  We have insurance, so we've payed a fraction of that cost, but it's still a chunk of change.  But our finances never factored into my care decisions.  I know it must for other women and it's simply not fair.      

5. We're the same age - well, at least for a few months this summer when we'll both be 38-years old.  I think we're both holding our own.  

6. We both have had the amazing experience of having children - and breastfeeding them. 

Tom and I were done having kids after we had Alice, so I didn't feel so bad about losing my breasts as I already had experienced the joy of childbirth and breastfeeding.  Great job, little boobies!  Thank you!

FYI - I actually have no idea if Jolie breastfed her children, but she seems like the sort of person who would have.  At least that's how I'm going imagine her.  I could do a Google search on it but dear God, can't the poor woman have any semblance of privacy!  

7. Our husbands are uber supportive and both rock the facial hair.  

8. Both of our families have a close affiliation with Fight Club.  Ours is through Miss Alice who's taken to spontaneously whacking me and saying, "Let's fight!" as she pumps her fists in the air and dances around.   

Where we differ: 

1. Jolie has a BRCA mutation which makes her statistically more likely to develop breast and ovarian cancer.  I found out two weeks ago that I do not have the BRCA mutation.  Phew.  That means we don't have an explanation as to why I got cancer.  It also means my chance of getting ovarian cancer isn't through the roof. Unfortunately, Jolie's is.  I feel for her in having the contend with the worry of getting it and potentially contemplating what measures she can do to proactively prevent it.  Monitoring for ovarian cancer isn't all that great, so there are more and more women who have the BRCA mutation that are opting to remove their ovaries.  Ugh.  Not a lot of great choices out there.  

2. I had a tumor; Jolie didn't.  And I didn't have a tumor in my non-affected breast, so like Jolie, I opted to remove my healthy breast (Jolie removed two healthy breasts) in the name of cancer prevention and for peace of mind.

I think that's about it for differences.  We're really very, very similar from the two or so articles I've read about her.  We're like two twins who've never met living parallel lives - I'm the blond one and she's the brunette.  

Enough of that.  And now for some pictures!

Margo (McMahon) Fochler, Me and Lark at the Get Your Rear in Gear walk/run for colon cancer (April 21).  Miss Margo, aka Goey  (like Joey with G) as I like to call her, was diagnosed with colon cancer last fall and just finished up a grueling 12-rounds of chemotherapy.  She's endured it all with grace and beauty.  Yay Goey!  Yay Steve!  Yay all of us who are blessed to have you in our lives.

Did someone say twin?  Geez, I can't believe how much my sister and I look alike!

Here we are on our way to Mexico together.  We had soooooo much fun.  Thank you, Swister, 

for bringing me as your date!

Our little beauties.  Those are our tulips in the background.  All 250 or so bulbs I planted in the fall. 

A Letter to the Boston Bomber(s)

This was published today by WhiteEagle Sterling, a peace advocate.

To the Boston Bomber/s:

I suppose you are celebrating tonight, a few hours after you set the bombs off in Boston … after shattering so many precious lives … after trying to bring a nation to its knees. We weep for the lost, for the families of the lost, but still … you failed on that last account. Humanity is always stronger than the hatred you and others like you harbor. You have killed, yes. But you have also raised the spirit of our nation. Most of us will not succumb to the fear you are hoping for. We are bigger than your anger.

Tonight I pray for you alongside those who were your victims.

What you seem to not understand is that there is no room here in our world for you … for others like you, who perpetrate such violent actions. Most of we humans have grown past the arcane ideas you have been taught about what is right and wrong. Most of us know all life is precious, even yours. War is obsolete. We are finding our voices, and our actions are changing our world. ‘We’ are not just Americans, but humans from all across the globe and many countries who know violence is no longer the answer. We are growing stronger and more active, and ‘you’ and others like you, are not.

We will find a way to humanely stop the last vestiges of the warmongers like you on this earth, or those who cleave to such primal and outdated ways of using their power. Together we will find a way … do not doubt it. Today you simply assured that we would do so. 

You seem to think what you did was an act of courage. I say it is an act of cowardice. You seem to think some cause or idea is worth murdering others for. You clearly do not know that you are now in hell, and will stay there until you realize the depth of your deprivation. I am sad for you … for that precious spirit buried deep inside of you that was so perfect when you came into this life as a babe. 

I just want to tell you I will pray for your awakening. Your humanity is not gone completely. It never is, no matter what you have done. The human Spirit can always beat out the fear, the isolation, and the judgment that your act of unimaginable violence is made of. All life is precious, and you have risked your humanity in the taking of other’s lives. Perhaps you understand this. Probably you don’t.

I will pray for you, along side those who were your victims.

I am sorry for whatever hurt you have suffered that has made you so sick as to think the answer is to murder innocent women, children, men. I truly am. You did make your choice, however. A human can experience amazing hardships, and never make a choice as heinous as the one you made today. There are no excuses for your actions. I am sure there are reasons in your mind that you feel impelled your actions today. I guarantee you they are invalid. They seem valid to you because you are un-awakened. I am sad for you, and by you. 

So … 

I will pray for you, along side of those who were your victims.

You do not stand a chance against my prayer, Our prayer ….

Beyond Comprehension | New Chapter: The Fear Sets In 

Beyond Comprehension
My heart is broken today for everyone effected by the Boston Marathon bombings.

When I was a child, I couldn't wait to be an adult. I thought adults were always fair and nice to one another.  Kids could be do cruel to one another. And sensitive kids like me, the ones who wear their emotions in their sleeves, are easy targets.  I couldn't wait to call my own shots and destiny.  I also thought that I would toughen up and not get that pain in my heart or lump in my throat when I encountered something in life that was unfair or tragic.

It was a bit of a rude awakening when I became an adult and realized that not all grown people play by the rules.  There are still bullies, assholes and those who exhibit all around crappy behavior.  The difference today is that I have a better handle on how to deal with those people or I can choose to not interact with them at all.

It was equally upsetting to learn that while I can guide and shape my future, "control" is just an illusion.  You can't control what other people do, let along random life things like a cancer diagnosis, losing a job, getting in a car accident or being the victim of violence.  As a country, we're living that lesson again through the tragic bombings yesterday.  That familiar pain in my heart and lump in my throat has returned for those who died, are injured, witnessed it - anyone who's effected by it.  I wish with all my being that all victims are able to heal and find inner peace.  

This is yet another reminder to be present, because that's the only thing that's certain.  And don't get so focused on the outcome that you miss the journey.  Invoking Grammy Sue's favorite quote, "Yesterday's history.  Tomorrow's a mystery. And today is a gift.  That's why they call it the present."  

New Chapter: The Fear Sets In
Mexico was fantastic.  Not a lot to report, other than soaking up some sun (through our UPF clothing and SPF 70 and hats, of course), swimming in pools and oceans, eating and drinking and watching the movie, The Lorax, on a daily basis.  It was pretty darn relaxing and felt like a good ending to the "Diagnosis and Mastectomy" chapter.

(A note to all who are wondering: Yes, I rocked my bikinis and quite honestly, you'd never be able to tell that I had a gone through surgery 7-weeks prior to vacation.  Unless you really stared at my chest and realized that my breasts don't move at all - not when I walk, run or lay down.  They're like pieces of gravity-defying Playdoh stuck to my chest.  When I have the expanders "exchanged" for implants, they'll get some motion back to them.)

Enter the "Resume Normal Lift" chapter.  We've been back for a little over a week and I'm struggling a bit to get my ass in gear and do something, like work out, start looking for my next gig, write a blog post, etc.  An object at rest stays at rest, right?  While, I'm never really at rest.  My mind is always going 20-million miles an hour.  And what is my mind chewing on right now?  The probability of developing cancer again.  Yup, in the absence of other things, my mind is swirling on the "what if's".  If you read above, I clearly know that that's counterproductive and I know I have very little control over what happens.  I can take my Tamoxifen (I started that yesterday), eat right, exercise and get my regular blood work and bone scans (I go in for my first bone scan and chest xray today) for early detection of recurrence.  I also went in for genetic counseling last week and am being tested for the BRCA genes - the genes that produce the hereditary form of breast and ovarian cancer. I find out the test results in early May.  The implications if I have the gene are that I have a higher chance of getting ovarian cancer (see "swirling on the 'what if's'" above).  And if I have it, Alice, my sister and brother have a 50% chance of having it, too. There are more implications but let's cross that bridge if we need to.

That's what's in my "control."  Now to get back to that place of acceptance and to get myself in positive motion mentally, physically and spiritually.

I'm still not very good at asking for help and when I do, actually receiving it.  I'm working on it.  Right now I could simply use some words of encouragement.

I'm going to close with a few pictures.  More to come.

Much love,
Lisa

Ah, the joy that a $2.99 floaty toy brings.  Alice loved her turtle,
hat and sunglasses and wore them the entire vacation.

A selfie of me and Lark in our beach cabana.  84-degrees and sunny.  One week later...

...we're at our first Twins game of the season and it's 32-degrees and snowing!  

Just remember: There's no bad weather, just bad clothing.
I wore my snow pants to the game.  

What's that you say? We already celebrated Alice's bday in January?  We sure did.
This is "Happy Poop Day."  Alice pooped in the potty - yet another excuse
to sing, blow out candles and eat cake!  Of course, she filled her underpants twice the next day.  Sigh.   

A Note From the Plane to Mexico

Crack o' dawn.

I was a little nervous about going through airport security with my expanders as they have metal in them. I told the agent who was checking our boarding passes and passports. Here's how the conversation went (these conversations went all the way to 11 and not in a good way):

Me: I have an implantable device that may set off the metal detector. This is my first time going through airport security since I got it. Anything special I need to do?

TSA agent: Is it like a metal hip or something?

Me: Umm... no.

TSA: A pacemaker?

Me: No. It's a tissue expander.

TSA: Oh, you can just go through the body scanner.

Me: I'd rather not. I'll just take my chances see what happens when I go through the metal detector. [That's right. The Gen X in me makes me inherently leary of, well, pretty much everything. Especially things that see through your insides. That can't be good for you. While we were waiting in the security line, Lark asked if they were safe. Tom told here they were except for the one in a thousand people they vaporize for population control.]

Of course I still feel the need to make sure they know that I might set off the metal detector, so I tell the guys ushering people through the metal detectors that I have an implantable device that may set off the metal detector.

TSA Agent 1: Oh, like a pace maker?

Me: No.

TSA Agent 2: Like a knee? [I shake my head.] Just go through the body scanner.

Me: Ummm...I'd rather not. I'll just try the metal detector and see what happens.

I walk through and nothing. Phew. No full cavity body search for me.

Tom suggested that I should have just told them I have a bionic vagina.

Next time.

Now we're in flight and there's yet another person who thinks they're so special that they can let their kid play games on the iPad with the volume on 11 (and not in a good way). That or they're just clueless. Either way I'm secretly wishing that they'd be the one in a thousand.

Late breaking news: I just told the guy that his kid's device is interfering with my bionic vagina. Problem solved.

New Beginnings | New Oncologist | Mexico...ahhh

Lark holding a bird egg we found on the ground on Cape Cod in 2008.

New Beginnings

Alice and I went sledding yesterday on the first day of spring.  It was a gorgeous, glittery snow day with clear, deep blue skies. We took Dublin with us so she could chase us down the hill, barking the whole way, trying to slow us down.  Really, I can't think of a better way to spend a snow day. 

When I was diagnosed with cancer this winter, I thought I was going to miss the rest of the sledding season.  I'm glad I got at least one more in and that I was able to pull Alice around without any twinges of pain.  Wow - just six weeks post-surgery.  It's amazing what our bodies are capable of.  I truly believe all of the prayers, good thoughts and deeds directed our way helped me heal quickly and kept my dauber up, which also aids in healing the body, mind and spirit.  

Alice refusing to leave Jesus.

It's also no accident that this chapter of my healing is happening at this time of renewal and new life- Spring and Easter.  It's also no accident that Alice has an deep and sincere interest in Easter story. She and I went to the Minneapolis Institute of Art the other week and were looking at statues.  We got to a room with a collection of ecclesiastic art, including a crucifix.  Alice wanted to know the story of the cross and the man on it.  When I wanted to push on to look at other things, she insisted that we stay in the room.  It was really interesting.  When we got home, she wanted to read about, "Jesus on the cross in the Bible Book."  That was two weeks ago.  Since then, she found a book at the library about Easter story.  Everyday she asks to hear about Jesus and asks crazy-good questions like, "Why did Pontious Pilate not like Jesus?" and "Why did he have to die?"   

We haven't been going to church much at all since Alice was born (read: five times tops), so it's striking to me that she appears to have an innate faith.  Lark came to the realization recently that if she had been born into another family that she might be a different religion.  True, true. She further pontificated that there must not be one, true religion.  Very true as well.  It's going to be interesting to watch our girls go through their exploration of faith and see where they land. 

Speaking of Easter, I highly recommend going to Good Friday Mass, sometimes also called the Veneration of the Cross.  In a church I used to go to, they would put a huge cross on the floor and everyone would take turns going up to the cross and placing their hand on it along with offering up their prayers.  It's a powerful ceremony that's brought me to full on tears (if you can't cry at church, where can you cry). It's mind blowing and virtually unfathomable that someone died so that we could be saved.  It's a great opportunity to leave give over whatever is weighing on you to a higher power. 

Back to me because this is my blog after all.  Alice's interest in Jesus and Lark's growing faith is stirring my interest in exploring the history.  I love learning about religions - all faiths - and how they shape our world. I've always wanted to take more theology classes to go deeper into the history.  Maybe now's the time.

Here's to being able to start anew each and everyday and pursue whatever ignites your passions.  

New Oncologist

Tom and I went to the new oncologist on Tuesday and the difference between this oncologist and the first one we say was night and day.  It started with a kind receptionist who welcomed me to the office and introduced the other receptionists.  The nurses were equally kind and responsive.  Dr. Bower's reviewed my history with us with the stated objective of not only educating us, but also arming us with proper information so that we can educate others - I love that.  She also said that she wants us to live our lives and not worry about cancer.  She told us to imagine that there's a cancer box up on her shelf that she takes down when we arrive.  All of our questions, fears, etc. go into the box.  And if we have questions that arise in between visits, we can always call her, but we don't need to open the box on our own.  Finally, she said that she wants us to start to view cancer and something that's happened, not something that defines me.  I'm already there. 

This woman speaks my language!

What does this mean for my ongoing care?  My Oncotype DX test results came back (the test that determines if someone would benefit from chemotherapy) and I'm in the clear!  No chemo for me.  I'm truly relieved that chemo is not part of this journey.  So what is?  Here's a quick summary: 

• First, let's pause and remember that I'm cancer free.  Hooray!  Having breast cancer makes one more susceptible to getting cancer again.  Breast cancer likes to go to lungs and bones, so I will go on preventative therapy and monitoring.  
• The preventative therapy is the hormone therapy I've mentioned in the past - Tamoxifin.  I'll take that for 10-yrs.  Dr. Bower's did a wonderful job of explaining how it works and what the potential side effects will be.  She also assured me that she has a "bag of tricks" to deal with the side effects.
• She will monitor my blood, bones and lungs on an ongoing basis to make sure we catch cancer early if it makes an appearance elsewhere.  I'll have blood work done quarterly and bone scans and chest x-rays yearly yearly.  
• I'll also do some genetic testing and counseling to see if there's any genetic markers that "pop," making me a candidate for some other treatments.  
• And finally, I'll continue with my reconstruction, which is going great!  Honestly, if you look at me in clothes, you'd have no idea that anything's happened. My 7-year old niece, Maxine, stated the other day during prayers that she's, "grateful that Sasa [her name for me] is growing new breasts."  Me too, Maxine.  Me too!!!

Mexico...ahhh

We planned a spring break trip to Mexico before all of this rigmarole happened.  We were on the fence if we should spend the money given my sudden lack of income.  I also wanted to make sure I felt good and was able to swim.  What a bummer it would be to be at the ocean and not be able to jump in.  I'm feeling great and with the adage in mind that you can't take it [money] with you, we're going!  For those who've been asking, we leave next Thursday, March 28th for 8 days.  (Note to robbers:  Someone will be at our house taking care of our ferocious dog. And we have an alarm system on our house.  And you will go to hell if you rob someone who's recovering from Cancer.  And I will hunt you down...this is getting weird.)

We'll be just outside of Cancun at an all-inclusive resort that we stayed at last year. I have my new bikinis all lined up and am ignoring the fact that while I was sitting on the floor this morning in my bra that Alice asked, "What are those things on your tummy?"  They happened to be some, ahem, loose/fat on my tummy.  Damn your 3-year old lack of filters and honesty!   (Repeating in my head: Inner peace. Inner peace.  Inner peace. Inner F-ing peace.  Pina coladas will make me look better on the beach.  FREE Pina coladas. Free Pina coladas delivered to me on the beach.)  Better. 

From last year's trip:

Lark and Alice's favorite drinks: Mango Tangos.

Mama and Lark.

Ahh...cabana life.

Cuddling in a cabana.

More cabana time.

Family happy hour in the pool after a day at the beach.

12 Years of Lark

Happy Birthday, Lark!  You are amazing.
Love, Mommy, Daddy, Alice, Dublin and Clover

June 2012 (11 years old) Fairy Lark

Spring 2001 (Newborn): Lark with Poppy

Summer 2001: Lark on Cape Cod held by Mama Megan

March 12, 2002: Lark's first birthday

Summer 2002: Enter the Daddy and Lark years

2-year old Lark

3-year old Lark

June 2005 (Age 4): Recital with Grammy Sue

September 2006 (age 5): Kindergarten Lark

July 2007 (age 6): Enter the Mommy Lisa years (now known as Mommy)

July 2007 (age 6): Our noble steed, Dublin

October 4, 2008 (age 7): Our Wedding

Summer 2009 (age 8): Yup, you're going to be a sister!

July 2009 (age 8): Reading at the Cape.  We couldn't leave out your favorite pastime!

January 23, 2010 (age 8): Enter the Alice years.

Summery 2010 (age 9): With Daddy at the Twins

January 23, 2011 (age 9): First birthday fun.

June 2012 (age 11): Mama and her beautiful fairy, Lark.

June 2012 (age 11): The whole fam-damly. 

Summer 2012 (age 11): Always helping your little sister.

December 2012 (age 11): Beautiful Lark

Stream of Consciousness | Fill Update | Lark is Funny

Voodoo Alice. 

Stream of coffee shop consciousness.  I put my credit card where my mouth is and order a gagillion bikinis from Boden, J.Crew (damn you, J.Crew, and your cute clothes on toothpick models) and Piperlime.  I even ordered a few string bikinis because I read somewhere that they can be a little more forgiving because you can adjust them.  I think a guy wrote that.  I probably ordered no less than 15 suits with the thought that one may work.  So here's my question of the day: How do these retailers make their business models work?

I'm an online retailers' worst nightmare.  I order lots of stuff in many different sizes and return 90% of it.  They've trained me to search for coupons or wait for one to show up in my inbox.  And I never pay for shipping.  I've never purchased anything from Piperlime and they wooed me with a 20% off + free shipping postcard.  Even Nordstrom's in on the free shipping and free returns game.  I've routinely ordered upwards of 10 different pairs of shoes only to pick one and return the rest.

I'd love to do a segmentation on online shoppers and see where I land.  I'd also love to really understand how online retailers make their business model's work.  They probably just load it into their cost of goods.  I'

All of this marketing and business model talk is making me lonesome for work.  I have to say I'm already feeling the itch to get back at it.  I'm going to wait to see what the story is with chemo before I put out the feelers for a new position.  If chemo is in the mix, I'm going to wait until it's done to start working, which would put me at the end of summer for a start date.

Tom and I figured out that financially we can go 8-months before I need to start working.  I figured out yesterday when I was ready to squeeze Alice just a little bit too hard that I'll probably want to go back sooner.  I'm such a better person, wife, mom, friend - you name it - when I'm working.  I'm also infinitely more productive and less likely to want to punch the kids when they're driving me nuts. Okay, if you've never felt like you've wanted to squeeze your kids really hard, you're not trying hard enough.

I'm clearly kidding.  And if you didn't know that, please stop reading my blog and sending out all of that negative energy my way.  Or poking that voodoo doll.  Which leads me to an explanation of the opening photo of Alice.

A few months ago Tom, Lark and I were chatting in the kitchen after dinner while Alice played in the other room.  She was very quiet which is usually an indication that she's doing her business.  After a certain amount of time, it's your parental duty just to make sure they're still there and not doing some to hurt themselves. Tom rounded the corner to the living room to find her with a box of toothpicks strategically sticking them into her doll.  Of course she was wearing a princess dress while doing it.  Tom called us in right away to see the disturbing, yet funny, sight.  We couldn't stop laughing and still have no idea how she got a hold of the toothpicks.  Oh yeah, now I remember, we keep the toothpicks in the easily-accessible-drawer-of- dangerous-things Alice shouldn't play with.  Note to self: remove knives, scissors and other pokey things from the drawer.  While I'm at it, pad the entire house so no harm will ever come of Lark or Alice.  Better yet, make them padded suits in cheery spring colors with helmets to protect them at all times - in or out of the house.

So much to do, so little time.

Fill update.  I had my first fill on Tuesday.  It was relatively uneventful but yielded some immediate results.  I could see my breasts getting bigger.  It's not everyday you can say that.  Dr. K. located the fill port on each side using a magnet and proceeded to access the ports using a needle connected to a GIGANTIC syringe holding 50ml of fluid.  I usually like to watch stuff like this as I find it fascinating, but this time I decided to do a little experiment to see how much I would feel.  The result?  I don't have any feeling in a band across my chest where the tissue was removed.  This conclusion was reinforced after I left Dr. K's office.  I was driving to pick up Lark at school and felt something cold on my left arm.  I looked down and saw that I was leaking fluid and that I had a big wet spot over my left breast.  I didn't even feel it.  Crazy.  I read somewhere that I need to be careful when taking a shower because I won't be able to feel the hot water on my chest.  Which leads me to the logical question: what type of freakazoid person tests the shower temperature with their breast?  Right?  Though it is possible, I suppose, to have have this happen:


Back to the leakage.  Fear not - it wasn't my expander leaking.  Dr. K removed some accumulated fluid from my breast after the fill. The leakage was just my very own fluid.  That sounds gross, but it's really not.

Lark is funny.  Her wit is getting quicker by the day.  I love it.  Here are a couple recent ones that have cracked me up:

The other day my mom and I were discussing cleaning bathrooms and what products we use.  Mom asked me what I use in my toilet bowl (how the hell do we get on such subjects?).  Lark chimed in, without skipping a beat, "Oh, we don't use toilet bowl cleaner, Grandma.  Our pee is antibacterial."

The day that Tom and I told her that I had been diagnosed with cancer and she was comfortable with the fact that I was going to live, she turned to Tom and said, "Man, Dad.  You have really bad luck with your wives."

Here's to finding humor even in the hard times. Cheers!