Phew!

My mother in Chicago just gave word that her CT scans have shown a great diminishing of her tumors in her lungs. She has Stage IV Osteosarcoma, a rare bone cancer, that spread to her lungs. There were four huge ones there, and now, by the grace of all that's miraculous, have shrunk so small that the oncologist can barely see them anymore. She may just need a couple more rounds and some radiation, and she could be done. They say that she's such a rare and amazing case, that they're actually pulling for a cure. She doesn't react to chemo like all other patients. ALL of her doctors were in awe of how resilient my mother's system is, and now they want to make a case study to teach others in the future on how to treat such a rare cancer. It told her it was her strength and our love that is helping her defeat this calcified demon. She will win.

Halloween=Getae?!

As we awaited trick-or-treaters, my lovely Tinkerbell, Tonia, grew weary. What a sad day when no one celebrates such a fun, kid-friendly tradition anymore. Needless to say, our giant bowl of wonderful hard candies and glorious chews, remained full. More for us, I guess.

Funny enough, Johnny and I started looking up random videos from my native country of Romania, watching and toying with the idea of someday contributing to the ever burgeoning economy there. We'd be a hot, American entertainment couple, ready to brand our mark on my birth country, with film and music ideas of grandeur. This all led to the unanswerable question of the origin of my true heritage. Romanian is my primary heritage, but since there are a few mysteries to my birth, which I'll delve in future posts, that I may be part Macedonian. Being the voracious researchers we are, my husband and I took to good 'ol Wiki to trace back all the possibilities. After hours of countless reads, we've narrowed down the more than likely chance of my links to the ancient tribe Getae, before the Dacian and Thracian tribes conquered us. And eventually, even before the Romans came in, forever staining the fabric of or culture. The Getae have some Greek origins, and believed in a entirely different deity, Zalmoxis, than the mythological gods of the time. Mind you, I come from a bloodline before the established religions. We were a raw, courageous lot of fighters, who incidentally survived some of Alexander the Great's violent conquests. Fuck 300!!! We were fucking fearless! Yet unfortunately, like all small tribes of the past, we were outnumbered, and almost erased from history. Thank goodness for poets and scholars of the time, with their written praises. They adored our balls.