Here Comes My Girl

I have baffled onlookers for years, certainly decades. They would look, guesstimate what the outcome of the event was going to be and then stand there astounded it actually happened without a negative result, perhaps even patting themselves on the back for being there at the time by saying something like “Man, that dude is crazy, and I’m really thankful he’s on our side … “or some such juvenile clarity. ¶ It’s true … years ago I did some absolutely ridiculous things. Like what you ask? If you’re from the Beverly High School class of 1978 you’re probably thinking any number of things and could go on without even reading this post … there were a few stunts in high school that truly defied logic. For example – my chemistry teacher was also the high school cheerleading coach. Well when she found out Bonnie and I were somewhat of an item she was skeptical to even allow Bonnie to try out for the squad! ¶ Immediately after leaving the Garden City, and charting out the next adventure, the slate was clear, no guidelines and certainly no parents or Beverly’s finest to worry about (that’s right Timmy H.). ¶ So now I’m in Los Angeles, and this afternoon I found myself in a place called “The Treehouse” and yes there’s even a computer workstation where I can pen these thoughts. While sitting here in The Treehouse with the music at a most acceptable level I relish in a few simple facts … (1) I’m still alive, (2) My wife and I have been “an item” before The Blizzard of ’78, (3) I still listen to the same rock and roll music I was raised on with no changes to the playlist; Zeppelin, Springsteen, Tull, Black Sabbath, Aerosmith, The Stones, Skynyrd, Petty, The Who … so with nearly four decades away from Cabot and Rantoul Streets I now find myself jamming to Edgar Winter’s “Frankenstein” which takes me back to my buddy’s house on Essex Street which is a story that will wait for another day. ¶ While sitting here (in The Treehouse) I just now listened to Tom Petty’s “Here Comes My Girl” and it truly got me thinking about who this page is dedicated to; the one person who knows me better than I know myself and who was truly heard of and witnessed her own fair share of my unscripted theatrics. This girl and I, along with our two great, caring and loving daughters will be boarding a flight to Kona in ten days … I can promise you to be on my best behavior, but beforehand I want to share with you what Petty was saying in his 1980 pop song as it has been a fair number of posts since I’ve shared any requisite lyrics as they apply to our relationship in quite some time … Bonnie – thank you for always being in my corner, and here from The Treehouse I share with you and all of the “Bonnie’s Beautiful Boosters” a portion of the lyrics to “Here Comes My Girl”: ¶ You know sometimes, I don’t know why / But this old town seems so hopeless / Yeah, I ain’t really sure, but it seems I remember the good times / Were just a little bit more in focus / But when she puts her arms around me / I can somehow rise above it / Yeah, man when I got that little girl standin’ right by my side / You know, I can tell the whole world to shove it, hey! / Here comes my girl. Here comes my girl / Yeah, and she looks so right, she is all I need tonight / Every now and then I down to the end of the day / And I have to stop and ask myself why I’ve done it / It just seems so useless to have to work so hard / And nothin’ ever really seems to come from it / But when she looks me in the eye and says / “We’re gonna last forever” / And man, you know I can’t begin to doubt it / No, ‘cause it just feels so good and so free and so right / I know we ain’t never goin’ to change our minds about it … hey! / Here comes my girl, here comes my girl / Yeah, and she looks so right, she is all I need tonight (Watch her walk) … ¶ I’ll be flying into SFO on the 19th, and walking into the lounge at the Radisson to meet our special girl for a pre-game warm up drink, spend the night at the Radisson and then off to Kona the following morning. ¶ Live from The Treehouse!

Keeping her close …

Love,

Paul

The Welcoming Committee in Petaluma

All the girls were at the table, we all sat under the setting sun on a Wednesday afternoon with cocktails coming and going. Menus set aside, we were here for one thing and that was to get this Independence Day weekend started – on a Wednesday! With two cold beers in front of me in animated suspension waiting for the busied barkeep to mix our oldest girls drink I waited so we could all enjoy a beautiful toast to once again being with each other, the first since Memorial Day weekend and our appearance on The Ellen Show. ¶ As Taylor’s margarita arrived I started the toast and Bonnie looked down at the inside of my forearm to find three lengthy streaks of blood from what appeared to be scratch marks. Having no idea where these came from we continued with the toast, raised those potent potables to hear the glasses talk to each other and we consumed. ¶ Aaah, what a great way to start the weekend with all the girls sitting at the table where fun, frolic and festivity filled the air. After the first beer was knocked back it dawned on me where those scratches on my arm came from, to which is exactly how the past five days began. ¶ Flying into SFO from LAX is truly a piece of cake, a fifty minute flight, barely enough time to get all settled in before you’re being told to straighten your chairs in the upright position, etc., etc. Arriving in SFO at 4:05 gave me just enough time to rescue my checked bag from the carousel and hustle outside to meet the Airporter Express for a relaxing ride home. The Airporter really does their best to get you to your destination on time, but … they are no match for the traffic in San Francisco this day. I learned the Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART) system employees had been on strike the past three days causing all kinds of transportation problems and the bus driver did the best he could to scheme his machine across the city, over the Golden Gate Bridge pointing north, though we were there with the masses on Hwy 101 finally reaching the Sonoma County Fair Grounds in Petaluma around 6:45 … the sun was still plenty high in the sky, and the visual of my bride waiting in the parking lot with a handful of others brought back so many memories of her on the pier so many times, so many years ago. Nothing really changes but the geography and I am one lucky son of a gun … that’s all I can say. ¶ We bounded out of the parking lot and headed for one of our many favorite watering holes with Logan in the front seat and this is where the adventure began. ¶ Since I’ve been gone, downtown Petaluma has undergone a few changes in curbside parking due to the repaving of Petaluma Blvd. The previous three lanes of traffic have now been reduced to one on each side with a suicide lane in the middle, I probably would not have paid much attention to it all until Bonnie found a premium parking spot and she slowed down, put on her directional indicating she’d be needing some room to parallel park, etc., etc. ¶ We all had our windows down due to the great weather, and because of this we heard the driver in the car behind my bride yell “MOVE YOUR ASS!” … ¶ I assumed this tool believed his inappropriate language at my wife was going to speed things along, mind you there’s never any real hurry in this town anyway, so I’ve never understood the reason for this kind of behavior, and since I was there anyway, I thought I’d teach him a lesson on how NOT to act from behind the wheel. ¶ My little girl knows her dad well enough and I could hear her saying “No Dad, no, stay in the car!” … Bonnie also pleaded with me, but … I only assumed he was talking to me, so I acknowledged his request and moved my ass like I was coming over the boards in a power play situation. Based on the surprised look on his face when I was now inches from his window it was safe to assume I was not the intended recipient of his less than gracious request. ¶ Traffic was now stopped and backed up a couple hundred yards during this one-sided counseling session, and as I watched Bonnie perfectly maneuver her car into the spot, I remained at his door curious if he had any further requests. Turns out he did not. ¶ After that first beer I replayed that scene in my head and now remember Bonnie grabbing my forearm with her fingernails while I exited the car. Six days later those scratches remain as a wonderful visual of how this Independence Day weekend all started!

Keeping her close …

Love,

Paul

Stairway to Geography

Geography will be the subject of today’s post. I am almost positive the majority of us can remember our “geography” teacher from junior high school. Geography is all that separates that special girl and myself from sharing good morning coffees and extra special goodnight kisses. Geography is that medium which distances myself from our two growing daughters who have certainly come into their own over the past couple of years; one a graduate from the USC and the other who readies herself for her freshman year at Humboldt State University. Proud parents for sure. ¶ So while Dad takes regular walks along the Pacific Ocean and Bonnie does her thing keeping the house effectively running there’s this thing called geography standing in the way of hand holding, some pecking, and perhaps even some PG-50 rated making out in the front seat … and then there’s possibly the best day at work ever which does nothing to minimize the distance between us – believe me. ¶ I realize it’s been a month of Sundays since I’ve posted and there’s been plenty of reason for that. 1. NHL playoffs – yes the Bruins are playing the hockey of their lives and I’ve been there for every minute of these frozen ice fanatics … 2. Work – the new job has completely wrapped me up, a good thing, but one of those things that has just consumed me physically and physiologically. The new command has just taken me in with wide open arms, laughter and even cab fare (more on that later). So suffice it to say that I’ve been busy busy busy after my brutal 1 mile commute after work to even entertain the idea of populating this page with my thoughts , my mind has been writing page after page almost daily but fingers to the keyboard have been another subject, until this evening. ¶ After a phenomenal day with the fair amount of members of the staff for a going away luncheon in nearby El Segundo to be followed up with a late afternoon Chiefs Mess call (mind you I’ve been a member of the civilian community since 1998) later this afternoon, beverages provided, has certainly been the highlight of my tour thus far and it’s not been the beverages, but the invitation to attend that’s made things especially inviting. ¶ From this world you get what you put into it … wouldn’t you agree? Wasn’t our attendance on The Ellen Show evidence enough of that? ¶ These guys I work with could care less about the gifts received, or the upcoming trip to Hawaii … what they care about is what they HAVE in place with regards to the WHO I am, WHAT I am, and really nothing more than that – and that’s all I care about. ¶ Tonight, after leaving perhaps the best bar I’ve been to within local driving distance; The Tavern in El Segundo I cranked the radio, peeled back the moonroof, opened all the windows and let KLOS 95.5 FM pump all the bass possible into the speakers while I did my best to lipsynch the words to Led Zeppelin’s Stairway to Heaven. This anthem is possibly repeatedly the #1 song on request lists across the nation and as I did my best (while wearing my BOSOX hat) to manage the lyrics (which I should know by heart) I realized almost immediately I still have a long way to go in learning each of the words precisely which got me thinking about my bride. ¶ We had spoken to each other about 2 hours beforehand, both in good spirits, and regardless, I am ALWAYS thinking about Bonnie … good, bad or ugly, and when Jimmy Page and crew light off with the lyrics to STH I can’t help think about that special girl some 400+ miles north along the Pacific Coast Highway … you think you know the lyrics, and good on ya if you do, but I’m guessing the majority of you do not, and perhaps because you’ve got those Jensen triaxil speakers so juiced you can’t hear yourself missing those critical points of this phenomenal song … so let me help you out, at least with one of the choruses. Bonnie, before I get started, know this … we probably danced to more of Pinball Wizard and Dream On while we dated in high school, but I strongly believe Jimmy Page and Robert Plant had you in mind when they wrote this song: ¶ … and as we wind on down the road / our shadows taller than our soul / there walks a lady we all know / who shines white light and wants to show / how everything still turns to gold / and if you listen very hard / the tune will come to you at last / when we all are one and one is all / to be a rock and not to roll / and she’s buying the stairway to heaven … When we all are one and one is all … I CANNOT WAIT!!
Okay … finally a post worth publishing.
I love you sweetie.
Klink / Klink

Keep her close guys …

Love,

Paul

That Just Happened!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BaeWXbytIlg – THAT JUST HAPPENED!! ?? !!

So the link above is not only the title to our youngest daughter’s high school yearbook, but also helps give you an idea as to what just happened in our lives.  I think the five minute video clip will do far more justice than the words I can express to you right now.

Men and women come into each other’s lives for a reason, how little did I know how blessed I would be from a chance meeting on the high school dance floor in our hometown of Beverly, MA thirty-six years ago.

Thank you all for your texts, your emails, your support these past two years during Bonnie’s fight with breast cancer, and most importantly for keeping her close!

That just friggin’ happened … one Memorial Day weekend that will remain in our memories forever.

Thank you Ellen, her production staff and the American Cancer Society – you all rock!

Love,

♥

Paul

The Ellen Show – Tuesday, May 28 – RECORD THIS SHOW!

Set your DVR to record The Ellen Show on Tuesday! You’ll be so glad you did.

My head is still spinning!

Keeping her close!

Love,

Paul

 

No Teases Left – It’s Showtime!

I left you last with a tease … this post will help guide to where the mocker leads today.  ¶ I’ve pulled a few gags on my bride in the past twenty-four years.  One of the gems was on her fortieth birthday when we figuratively took over a local nightclub with friends celebrating her birthday.  Birthdays are big with Bonnie, really big.  Her specialty on birthdays for our two girls begins at breakfast, goes through midday and does not end until the sun has long since left its mark on the day.  The quip that year included a mid-afternoon phone call indicating I was going to be late and please start without me.  “An emergency had come up at work requiring my presence, not to worry I will be there as soon as this problem is fixed.”  I had actually taken a half-day at work and my afternoon was spent at the Charleston International Airport where I awaited the arrival of Bonnie’s childhood friend Mary, inbound from Boston. 🙂 ¶ Upon arrival at the party I made my way in and found everyone already in a highly celebratory mood and when I found Bonnie amidst all the revelry I hugged her, said hello and slipped to the side and there was Mary standing there!  She knew immediately the wool had been pulled over her eyes and with Mary there for her party and to celebrate a weekends worth of toasts I was forgiven for the ruse. ¶ Phone calls and extremely heated texts yesterday have me completely on the edge right now as we are currently in Phase II of this new deception. ¶ Let’s first set the stage … it’s currently Thursday, the 23^rd of May, nearly 10:AM and here I sit in the bedroom of this rented apartment with my luggage on the bed.  I called Bonnie at 4:15 this morning to ensure she was awake and she was completely prepared for a morning drive to San Francisco International with Taylor and Logan alongside for a flight to Los Angeles.  She arrived at LAX approximately 8:45 this morning and I was not there to meet her and the girls. Why? The story I started yesterday morning included a network outage requiring my attention, etc., etc.  When she learned I would not be able to meet her at LAX – suffice it say the fireworks were of the type the male readers of this blog can certainly understand to be those we want to keep at an absolute minimum! ¶ I spent yesterday morning in Burbank, CA – in particular, at the Warner Brothers studio location where I met with Brian, Alyssa, Erin and Phillip, all employees of … “The Ellen” show!! ¶ We have all been invited to “The Ellen” show as guests and over the course of the past six or seven months have been engaged in regular communications with the production team putting together the story of Bonnie and Paul, highlighting our special girl’s breast cancer diagnosis, the toils, and her ultimate achievements.  ¶ The staff provided me directions to the Warner Brothers lot, the parking garage across the street, how to gain access to Studio #3, etc., etc., but I was not to inform Bonnie of this. ¶ Brian provided me a tour of this phenomenal studio, sound stage, production rooms, VIP rooms, Ellen’s office, et al yesterday where Ellen does her thing, and upon completion of this walk-around I was escorted outside on a golf cart where we were driven to a location to shoot a video of me explaining to Bonnie (as though she was there in the lens of Erin’s camera) how sorry I am not to be there today, how much I love her, how proud I am of her becoming a breast cancer survivor. ¶ This simple video shoot was extremely difficult to put together – for me anyways.  The Ellen production staff explained that during the taping Ellen herself may walk out into the audience, and ask Bonnie to the stage.  They were quite clear that this may NOT take place as well, as there are no guarantees, but under no circumstances did they want me to let the cat out of the bag. ¶ So now the girls are being chauffeured to Burbank in a Mercedes Benz limo with a full day of dealing with those same individuals I had met the day before. ¶ This entire process is quite surreal – believe me! ¶ The Ellen show has arranged for a driver who will arrive at my residence this afternoon at 3:30 to take me to Burbank where I will be met by Brian who will surreptitiously shuttle me to the green room where I can watch the show being taped.  I suspect at some point this afternoon I will appear on the stage where Bonnie, Taylor, Logan and Ellen sit and I can only simply imagine how fast my heart will be racing when this event takes place.  Again, there is no guarantee this will happen, and I I’m convinced my videotaping session from yesterday to be the reason.  I felt tight, strained and unnatural while discussing how I feel about the woman I have not seen for five weeks, yes, the same woman I have lied to about not being front and center in baggage claim when she and the girls arrived earlier this morning. ¶ Man, I hope this works …¶ Regardless, I will be with all my girls later this afternoon and staying at the Sheraton Universal City, courtesy of The Ellen Show, in Universal City, CA this evening.  Saturday morning a limo will then return us all to LAX for a flight back to SFO and a Memorial Day weekend back, one in which we will NEVER forget, in our home along the river in Petaluma.  I really got beat up yesterday, and deservedly so … fingers crossed that it was all worth it! ¶ No teases left … least not for now.

Keeping her closer than ever!

Love,

♥

Paul

The American Diner

Still in operation today!

It’s quite possible I have the internal hobo to thank for my love of the American Diner.   Flying solo down here in Los Angeles with no one to share breakfast and a surplus inventory of American Diners to experience is an absolute must.  The funny thing about finding them is [the diner] it does not pop up on your GPS as readily as say a Home Depot or a CVS.  Finding it is half the thrill, the other comes from sitting at the bar, taking in the atmosphere, listening to the regulars, reading the menus that almost always provide the same fare. ¶ Tracing back my love of the diner dates back to the early 1960’s.  As a young boy I used to help my dad deliver the morning Boston Globe and Record American.  His route would take us through the quiet little towns of Hamilton, Wenham, and Ipswich.  This little side job for my dad was seven days a week, so my alarm clock in the summer months was always set for 4:30 or so, and on the weekends.  I’d sit in the back of his convertible VW bug folding the morning paper as fast as possible before the first house on the route. ¶  I’m pretty sure my dad could feel the same level of excitement on Saturday mornings as we tossed that last Globe towards the door because we both knew our next stop was a favorite little diner of his in Hamilton.  The name of which escapes me, though this was truly the reward for the past two hours of playing paper boy.  In those days the diner was always full of men talking about whatever Boston sports team was in season, and debates on off track betting.   Sitting there opened my eyes to the world of male deliberations and I’ve never forgotten how special it made me feel.  Sundays were reserved for Dunkin’ Donuts where a dozen donuts cost .99 cents. I’d slip the change of 1 cent into the box full of crullers, honey dips, jellies and Boston creams for my brother and sister.  The two would later search of the penny, the winner of the penny would get the first choice of delectable delights awaiting them. ¶  If you search hard enough in the previous two-hundred and forty two posts related to this blog I can almost bet there’s mention to my lifelong dream of owning and operating a breakfast diner to serve a wide variety of dishes to the area working men and women.  ¶ According to Wikipedia, the diner itself originated on the east coast, though I will tell you as a resident here in Playa del Rey, CA there is no shortage of unique egg-dish eateries, not at all.  This morning’s list of to-do’s required a trip to the local CVS for some Velcro and with that out of the way it was time to use my internal Portuguese navigation to find just such an establishment.  ¶ Rolling along Sepulveda Blvd this morning I saw the sign which read “Dinah’s Family Restaurant” … the first good sign was the incredible difficulty in finding a parking spot.  This is where the happy hobo comes into play and if there’s a counter with stools present then I’m “all in!” ¶ Those regulars I listened to as a young boy were only a few stools down from me discussing muscle cars while giving the waitress a fair amount of good- natured ribbing on how they wanted their meals prepared.  ¶ The environment of the morning diner is alive and well out here and the two at the end of the counter are more than likely still sitting there.  Clearly neither of them is interested in the morning NHL playoff game between Chicago and Detroit. ¶  Bonnie and I chatted with each other this morning as her day was getting started.  We’ll be seeing each other soon for the Memorial Day weekend, and oddly enough the original plans for me heading north changed yesterday.  We learned a pretty special development taking shape next week which means all the girls will be heading my way … much more to discuss on this subject as it takes place. Oddly enough this blog for our special girl actually had something to do with it.  Is that enough of a tease?

Happy Birthday Grammy!

Keep her close.

Love,

♥

Paul

The Corner of Lost and Found

A little preface for this post since it’s been a while since my fingers have been on the keyboard for just such a purpose.  I’ve been living in Los Angeles since the middle of March … Bonnie and I are both fine, thanks for asking … this move was a professional one which involves a job with far reaching possibilities.  When the job was offered we both jumped up and down with such emotion never realizing just how far four-hundred and fifty miles really is when you just want to be next to the person you dream about, the person you regularly think about, the person that makes you want to be the person you’re aspiring to be … so one morning sitting on the corner after a wonderful walk (have lost 19 pounds since arriving … thanks again for asking 🙂 ) … I sat on the couch outside the smallest bar in Los Angeles known as The Harbor Room and watched the world go by and penned this little number in my head.  Fortunately I’ve still got enough RAM left in this size 7.5 squash above my shoulders to remember the words long enough to get them to those that I wish to read them the most …

I do apologize for my absence and hope you understand … for a couple months there I was just “lost” … and thanks to the support of my wonderful wife and two loving daughters … I have been “found” … hence, the following.

Enjoy.

Lost and Found

 

Standing at the corner of Lost and Found

Watching the world, sights and sound

It was here a realization dawned

To games of yore where bishops took pawn

Long nights, bar fights and tabs to pay

A clock ticked on the future, little to say

Once I was lost and on top of my game

A wife, a home, children to name

Great times, travels, decisions, smiles

Newsprint shows five plus decades

Nearly three of them with my wife

It’s now I understand the games

Will have to wait, months of few

Where the corner of Lost and Found

Witnesses many without a clue

That’s not me any longer

My bride, my partner and of course …

The corner of Lost and Found …

Has made me stronger.

 

May 4, 2013

 

Keep her close,

Love,

♥

Paul

Great to be Back

NO, I didn’t lose my fingers in a wood chipping accident, and YES it has been some time; 38 days to be exact since posting.  Perhaps the longest duration without providing any thought to paper on this page.  Let’s just say the past five weeks or so have been a challenge to the two of us. ¶ So what did it take to get me back in front of the typewriter today? Glad you asked. I facilitated a men’s cancer support group last night – the gathering was smaller than expected which provided me a wonderful opportunity to go one-on-one with the newest participant.  Cindi and I were able to share a few minutes with each other before our meeting started and I felt extremely comfortable exchanging thoughts and ideas with the gentleman who scheduled his time to share his thoughts, ideas and questions on the new journey he and his wife are on. ¶ I distinctly remember using the word “achievements” last night as I discussed the blog with him, and it turns out his wife enjoys writing so the first email of the day was sent to him with instructions for learning WordPress^® and the link to this blog. ¶ It feels great to be back in the game.  In my time away it was nice to see readership continued and we can welcome Japan as the thirty-seventh country who has visited the site to who I say “乗り物に乗って歓迎” ¶ While the gentlemen of Aerosmith fill the office this morning with their lyrics to “Mama Kin” I settle in for one extremely long day here in the office before our weekend begins. ¶ Happy Holidays to all of you and here’s hoping for a year that brings us health, peace, smiles and blessed fortune wherever your travels take you.  Great to be back.

Love,

♥

Paul

Serotonin Syndrome

We need to be our own doctor.  We’ve heard and perhaps said this from time to time, and allow me to further amplify this notion with today’s post.  We need to be our own doctor because doctors themselves are extremely busy individuals – period. ¶ For the past few weeks here along the river, we’ve been battling with a number of physiological changes in Bonnie that have made no sense at all.  I was really hoping the trip south this past Thanksgiving weekend with family was going to do the trick – it did not. ¶ In life we oscillate between sin and medicine.  The idea behind this quip is that negligence leads to illness.  The time to be concerned about sickness is when we are HEALTHY.  It is then that we can avoid damaging our system. ¶ Bonnie was a victim of a disease that struck without her complicity and I’ve said it more than once either in the form of a post or poetry – “Cancer F’n sucks!”  Through my research on a great number of cancer related medical terms on the disease which knocked at our door in January, 2011, I learned (or read) that cancer, et al, may very well have been averted if our society were to spend as much on the war against illness as it has on military wars.  We are also told there is a delicate connection between certain maladies and our nervous systems.  Undue worry may bring on illness as well.  To combat this threat we must have equilibrium, equanimity, a sense of humor and the capacity to play.  Here we are our own doctors. ¶ The initial intention of this blog was to keep our friends and family on the East coast aware of the day-to-day struggles and ultimately the achievements of kicking breast cancer’s ass and today we find ourselves wrestling with a whole new bag of tricks; the recognition and treatment of serotonin syndrome.  In a nutshell: This syndrome is an increasingly common adverse drug reaction, which can be life-threatening.  Despite the common use of medications with direct or indirect serotonergic effects, many physicians are not aware of the presentation and management of serotonin excess.  This is particularly true of less severe presentations of serotonin syndrome, which still contribute to patient morbidity.  Family physicians need to be more aware of serotonin syndrome. ¶ Bonnie visited with her primary breast care physician yesterday; Dr. Amy Shaw who researched serotonin syndrome and found Bonnie showed multiple symptoms.  I am extremely proud of the way Bonnie handled this entire event; from feeling poorly, having the shakes, not being able to go to the bathroom regularly, and mood swings and yet she finds the power to march into Dr. Shaw’s office at 3:30 yesterday afternoon and walk out with an entirely new game plan, a sense of relief and finally some much-needed sunshine. ¶ We sat down together last night when she arrived home with research materials on serotonin syndrome and now that we have a name for what’s been ailing her we can now start connecting the dots to fix it.  The intent of this post is to keep Bonnie’s Beautiful Boosters updated and for those of you battling breast cancer or any other form of cancer – trust yourself, trust your partner and trust your caregivers, but most of all – you need to listen to yourself – be your own doctor.

Special thanks to Rabbi Samuel Silver for his special to the Sun-Sentinel on “Being Your Own Doctor”.

Love,

♥

Paul