Medical Update #2

Change and decay in all around I see;

O thou who changest not, abide with me!

Abide With Me!*

Text: Henry F. Lyte, 1793-1847

Since my last post, so much has changed, including my diagnosis and prognosis!  But the important things in my life have stayed the same—my sweet fiancé and I are still full steam ahead for our wedding and our lives together.  I love my family and they love and support me, which means the world to me.  I have continued to receive so much kindness, including countless cards from individuals and families in my hometown 3000 miles away, whom I was sure had long forgotten me!   Thank you so much for your love!

Just to reiterate, according to my surgical team, my surgery was “a great success” and 100% of my brain tumor was removed.  With such a major surgery, I have had a lot to recover from.  My angel mother is still here in Philadelphia helping me transition back to my normal life.  I still cannot drive, mostly because of my medication, and I still see physical therapists, occupational therapists, and nurses regularly.  But my recovery has been going spectacularly!  Besides my detailed pill regiment and my prohibition on driving, lifting, and straining, I am nearly back to my normal life. 

(No more staples!  And my shaved hairs are even starting to grow back!)

I am so pleased with my recovery, and I want to share that I am doing so well.  My staples are all out and my incision is healing really well.  But I also must share the fact that we have some new developments from my medical team.

But first, from John, Chapter 20, in the King James Version of The Holy Bible:

 24 ¶But Thomas, one of the twelve, called Didymus, was not with them when Jesus came.

 25 The other disciples therefore said unto him, We have seen the Lord. But he said unto them, Except I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into his side, I will not believe.

 26 ¶And after eight days again his disciples were within, and Thomas with them: then came Jesus, the doors being shut, and stood in the midst, and said, Peace be unto you.

 27 Then saith he to Thomas, Reach hither thy finger, and behold my hands; and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into my side: and be not faithless, but believing.

 28 And Thomas answered and said unto him, My Lord and my God.

 29 Jesus saith unto him, Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.

This is the story giving the Apostle Thomas the unfortunate nickname of “Doubting Thomas.”  He wanted to see the Savior in order to believe that He had really risen from the dead.  I feel for Thomas—how many people had honestly been resurrected before then?  It must have been pretty difficult to believe.  And Thomas probably saw Jesus die with his own two eyes, so it would be incredibly difficult to imagine that He was living again.  We are in the same boat in these days.  Most of us don’t have the luxury of seeing the resurrected Lord, we are those whom Christ spoke of at the end of the passage—“blessed are they (that’s us!) that have not seen, and yet have believed.”

I have been reflecting on this story frequently in the recent weeks because there has been so much unknown in my life; there is so much that I cannot see and do not know.  I have been waiting and waiting to learn about the pathology of my tumor.  I have not known whether I have cancer or not, whether I will have to start chemotherapy or not, whether I can carry on with my life as planned or not.  I just have not known.  I have been going to bed with enormous question marks hovering right in front of my eyes.

On Friday, July 11, and then again today, I finally got some answers.  And the answers included big changes from information I had previously been relying on.  The biggest piece of news after the full Pathology study of my tumor was completed is that my brain tumor was a totally different type of tumor than anyone had expected.  Rather than a benign Meningioma, it is actually a very rare tumor called an Anaplastic Hemangiopercytoma– and it was malignant. 

Now before you panic, it was not malignant in the sense that I have cancer.  This is the Good News: I DO NOT HAVE CANCER and I praise the Lord because of it.  There is no fear that cancer cells or tumors will appear in other parts of my body.  However, this type of tumor is very likely to grow back in the same spot.  So unlike what we thought before, my fight with this tumor is far from over and I will be monitored to keep it from returning for the rest of my life.

In an effort to jump-start my fight to keep the tumor from returning, it looks like I will be undergoing a gentle form or radiation called Proton Therapy. Although it is more gentle than traditional radiation, it will still be pretty intense.  I am not sure if they will wait until after the wedding or not to do it, but I will know a lot more after the first week of August, when I see the Radiation Oncologist whom my Chief Brain Surgeon gave my case to.  It is so amazing that I have such advanced medical facilities literally right down my street.  (P.S. Thank you Ian for giving me a tour of the Proton Therapy facilities last year!  We had no idea at the time that I would be a patient there, but knowing what it is all about and what it looks like has been a HUGE source of comfort to me.  You are such a great friend in so many ways.)  And if they wait until after the wedding, I still have my apartment in Philly through most of the Fall if I need to stay here for my treatment.  Things will be pretty crazy when that is all going on, but I am confident that it is going to work out.

I have heard from so many of my loved ones all over the world that they were worried about me, prayed about me, and felt in their prayers that everything would be alright.  I really appreciated hearing this from so many people and I relied on it for a time.  But one night last week I realized that I, personally, wasn’t sure if everything actually was going to be alright.  I was worrying about one day at a time, and I had not wanted to think long-term for fear of what I would discover.  But I needed to know for myself if everything would be alright.  One night before going to sleep, I sat up in my bed and about as colloquially as I would speak to my parents, I asked, “Lord, IS everything going to be okay?”

Immediately I felt an overwhelming sense of love filling my whole heart.  Words flooded my mind and I knew that I was loved by God and that He was watching over me and knew what I felt and what I was going through.  I felt as clearly as if someone was speaking to me face-to-face that I had a life to live, a family to raise, and people to influence.  Things will be difficult and scary and tough, but YES-- everything will be alright.

All of my doctors, including the Radiation Oncologist, are still on board for the wedding taking place as scheduled.  It will be a small, quiet, sacred occasion with my close, immediate family in the Manhattan Temple.  I bought new wedding shoes—lower wedges—so I don’t fall in my less-balanced state :)  Besides the lower shoes, everything will go as planned.  I think it will be a more meaningful occasion now that we’ve really fought for it.  I also am looking forward to seeing my siblings, grandparents, and other family members SO much.  They have been big supporters throughout my medical melodrama and I just want to hug them all, and tell them I’m okay, and thank them for their prayers.  (P.S. I am also graciously accepting prayers that it will NOT rain in New York on August 30^th!  PLEASE!)

(Here we are after church last week—my first time at Sacrament Meeting since my operation)

Two things have been keeping me stable as I work to get back to my life.  The first is my family, especially my parents.  The second is my fiancé, my dear Sweet Jack. 

When nobody knew I was listening as I was lying on my hospital bed in the Intensive Care Unit with tubes and needles going everywhere, I could feel that my parents and my fiancé were there with me and I could hear them talking.  Their words betrayed nothing but love for me.  In the middle of the night when a nurse asked me to rate my pain, I could see my dad shudder out of the corner of my eye when I disclosed just how much I was hurting.  My pain hurt him.  I could literally see his empathy.  I still feel his empathy from across the country.

My poor mom dropped her whole life to help me get back to my life.  She has been away from her home for weeks now, crammed into my one-bedroom downtown apartment like a hostage.  How strange it must have been for her to go from having an independent, adult daughter who was preparing to get married and run her own household, to having a daughter who couldn’t even shower without help.  I am 27 years old and after I got out of the hospital, my mother shampooed and combed and braided my hair every day!  Again and again this quote comes to my mind as I watch her calmly, quietly serve me without complaint, while I feel frustrated and helpless—

            “All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.”  --Abraham Lincoln

And the love of my life, my own Mr. Jackson.  I have relied on his confidence the whole way through.  From the very beginning of this battle, he has been there to tell me that we will get through this and that no matter what, he loves me.  Again and again he has told me that this is just a speed bump, and we are still getting married, having a family, and having a life together.  On days when I haven’t been so sure about all of that, his sincerity and hope have been my strength.

Now back to our friend, Doubting Thomas.  When Christ did appear to His disciples in John 20, what was the first thing He said to them?  Here His apostles were all confused, having seen their leader and their God killed right in front of them.  How scary and strange that must have been!  Christ’s first communication to them was PEACE.  “Peace be unto you.”  No matter whether their faith had been perfect or not, no matter whether they knew He was coming back or not, Christ invited them to have peace.

All around me seems to be change, fear, and worry.  I feel these negative words crowing all around me, like they are trying to box me into a corner.  I have realized that despite my valiant efforts at living a healthy lifestyle, and despite being a mostly good person, and despite planning out the rest of my life in detail, there are really very few things within my absolute control.  But two of those few things that I can control are (1) what I believe, and (2) how I respond.  I choose to believe God loves me, and I choose to make an effort to feel peace in my heart and mind. 

(Rescue of the Lost Lamb by Minerva Teichert)

And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall.

Helaman 5:12  
The Book of Mormon.

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

John 14:27  
The Holy Bible.

When I felt at my lowest of lows and my world was turned upside down, I can tell you honestly that it NEVER even occurred to me to abandon my faith.  It seems counter-intuitive since faith is belief of things unseen, but when all was in flux and I could not see the end point of anything, the only stable thing I could see was faith.  If I allowed doubt to steal away my faith, I would literally have had nothing left.  My faith was all that I had as I was wheeled alone into the Operating Room, so I fiercely guarded my faith and, more importantly, it guarded me.

~

* Full text of the hymn Abide With Me!   Written by Henry F. Lyte—

 1. Abide with me! fast falls the eventide;

The darkness deepens. Lord, with me abide!

When other helpers fail and comforts flee,

Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me!

 2. Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day.

Earth's joys grow dim; its glories pass away.

Change and decay in all around I see;

O thou who changest not, abide with me!

 3. I need thy presence ev'ry passing hour.

What but thy grace can foil the tempter's pow'r?

Who, like thyself, my guide and stay can be?

Thru cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me!

My Medical Update

Not for the faint of heart!  I really don't want to freak anyone out, but I feel like people are more freaked out not knowing the whole situation.  So here's the last few whirlwind weeks, for your information--

Hello to our dear loved ones.  This is Linds and I thought it was time that people got an update.  First of all, to just ease a few fears and get things out of the way:

  

    (1) I AM OKAY.  I am at home, not in the hospital anymore.  My mom is here taking care of me.

I 

    (2)  I  had a real life brain tumor- but it is now GONE.

  

    (3)  All signs point to it being a benign tumor, but Pathology is still scrutinizing it to be absolutely sure.

  

    (4) The Wedding and Open Houses are still happening on schedule!

I   (5) I did NOT have to get my head shaved! :DDD

~~

Beginning in February or March of this year, I started having some serious balance and stability issues—I would trip and fall frequently, have severe dizzy spells, and some nausea.  Just before we got engaged, a doctor diagnosed with me Vertigo (“BPPV”) thinking my balance issues were stemming from some inner-ear damage.  They gave me medicine and some physical therapy maneuvers to heal my inner ear.

Unfortunately, things actually got worse—I almost fell out my 3^rd story window one day in May!—so I knew I needed to go back to the doctor.  In the meanwhile, I was getting progressively worse headaches that seemed motion-related, like every time I stood up or turned my head too quickly.  There were a few other symptoms that I kind of brushed aside, like my handwriting getting clumsy and a few seconds of blurred vision once or twice. 

In June I went back to the doctor about the Vertigo and things did not quite add up for him—he was very concerned about the motion-based headaches.  We both thought it was over-kill at the time, but we decided to play it safe and order an MRI of my brain, just to make sure something else wasn’t going on.

So last month I had an outpatient MRI that was thankfully scheduled on a Saturday, so Clarence was down from Connecticut to attend the appointment with me, here in Philly.  We really went in expecting to find nothing and had just been joking the night before, “Will you still marry me if I have a brain tumor?!”  He said yes :)  Which actually turned out to be a big source of comfort for me later!

(My first night in the hospital before my parents could come to Philadelphia, somehow my Sweet Jack managed to squeeze into my hospital bed with me all night-- he was such a solace to me.)

We knew something was wrong when the MRI techs ushered us into a private room right after the exam and told us we had to wait for a doctor who was on his way from the main hospital building.  I already had an MRI follow-up appointment scheduled with my Primary Care Doctor for Monday (this was Saturday) so it seemed odd that they were in such a rush.  A doctor came in and said there were “abnormalities” on my scan and that the Emergency Room across the street was expecting me and I need to go there NOW.  Whoa.  And that’s all we knew.

So there we went!  As it just so happened, on that one particular Saturday, of all the days in the year, a very special doctor for the University of Pennsylvania was on-call in that ER.  They acted like he had never been on-call there before, but there he was.  It was Dr. Steven Brem- a world class neurosurgeon trained at Harvard, Cornell, Mass General Hospital (Boston) and now a hot shot at U Penn.  He reviewed my scans and immediately took my case.  Where all the other doctors were uncertain and wishy-washy, Dr. Brem was calm and confident.  He came in, showed Clarence and I some photos from my MRI and told us, “Yes, it is definitely a tumor.  It looks benign.  It is outside your brain on the membrane, not inside, making it a meningioma—which is the best kind of brain tumor to have if you must have one.” 

 (it is known as a "dumb-bell" shaped tumor because it has 2 separate round sides-- think like a weight lifting implement.  Because my sides were somewhat different in size, Dr. Brem said it was more like a Snowman, haha.  After the operation, he told me it was lemon-sized and quite deep.)

He said my type of brain tumor is his favorite type to remove!  Who has a favorite type of tumor?!  Haha!  Dr. Brem even gives lectures to surgeons on my type of tumor!  He said that my tumor spanned both of my hemispheres and was between a golf ball and tennis ball in size, and that it would be a very long and tricky operation because of all the nearby nerves and blood vessels, but that he could do it in one operation instead of 2, like most surgeons would have to, and that he could remove it all and it would not come back.  He provided so much information and stability and was such a breath of fresh air for us.  We relied on his confidence and knew he was there to help me.

All of my nurses reiterated that I had the best neurosurgical team.  Not the best in the hospital, or the best in the city, or even the best on the East Coast—but THE BEST.  And I totally agree.  People assumed I had come all the way from California for this operation with this team.  Members of my surgical team checked up on me around the clock and assured me that they would take care of me.  I told them that so many people were praying for them and that I trusted them. 

Of course my first question when Dr. Brem said they wanted to go in and take out the tumor was, “I’M GETTING MARRIED IN AUGUST, YOU DON’T HAVE TO SHAVE MY HEAD, RIGHT!?!”  This is a question a bride needs to know, after all!  He was so understanding.  As it happens, his daughter is exactly my age and she got married right after my surgery—just a week after I had met Dr. Brem.  He definitely understood all the pressure and planning around a wedding and he was so sensitive about encouraging me—you will have hair, you will be able to see, you will be able to walk down the aisle on August 30^th.  It was such a blessing to have his compassion and empathy.

Just the day before the scan, Clarence and I were in New York City and I got my hair practiced-styled for the wedding.  I had been planning to have it up, but went for down and now I’m so glad I did, since wearing it down will cover all my scars!  Just a tiny tender mercy for a bride-to-be :)

Dr. Brem requested that I be admitted to the hospital so I could take the first available surgical spot with his hand-selected A TEAM to perform the surgery.  He said lots of doctors wanted to be in on my case, because the tumor was so large –it has apparently been just quietly growing there for years!—and I was surprisingly young, healthy, and asymptomatic.  They all expected me to be blacking out and unable to see all of the time, based on its size and position. 

So one of the hardest parts was just waiting in the hospital for 5 days for my surgery, still feeling like my normal self, and trying not to lose my mind being cooped up in a hospital room.  And this is where so many of my dear friends really saved me by visiting me at the hospital, cheering me up, keeping me company, and just helping me to relax in a stressful situation.  It all just seemed unreal—if my name were not on the top of that brain scan, I wouldn’t even have believed it was mine!  I just felt like my normal, slightly clumsy self!

I was taken down for surgery on Thursday, June 26^th.  I was put under general anesthesia around 1:00pm and after hours of complicated surgery and a blood transfusion—the tumor was very bloody and tricky—I was transferred from the operating room to the Intensive Care Unit around 8:00pm, if I recall.  My Surgical A Team totally came through for me—they hardly shaved any of my hair, the breathing tube did not hurt my teeth, my vision is mostly intact and improving.  And best of all, after a post-operative MRI and CAT Scan, they tell me the tumor was 100% removed and should not come back ever again—that this was a cure, not just a quick fix.   

I now have a whopping 31 STAPLES in my head to hold my incision in place and they added in some metal plates and mesh to my skull, which is kind of cool.  We’re still waiting to hear if I can go on an airplane for our honeymoon, or if we’ll need to wait for me to be cleared for that.  But the wedding train is still on its track!

They expected I would be in the ICU for 5 days after my surgery and then maybe in an outpatient care facility for a while after that.  I was out of the ICU in only 3 days and released home from the hospital only one day after that—well ahead of schedule.  I have nurses and physical therapists who come see me at home a few times a week and my mother has been my angel, helping me night and day and nursing me back to vitality as I slowly recover from such a major operation.

So the tumor was lodged on my Cerebellum, which controls coordination and balance, which is why my writing has been failing and my balance had been so outta whack.  I walk with a cane for the time-being, just for added support, and I take things slow as my brain bounces back from the pressure of the tumor and the operation.   I just have to sleep most of the time because I can’t let my blood pressure go up at all, to allow my brain and nerves to heal and decompress.  

Much of the work to remove the tumor involved separating it from my ocular nerves, so probably the hardest part of my recovery is that my vision is off.  Shortly after surgery, I was seeing very bad double vision and had big blind spots on the right.  But the surgeons expected all of this and prepared me for it, and my vision is slowly improving every day.   My eyes do get tired very easily and just feel over-stimulated as my nerves are recovering.

(Clearly not the most flattering photo, but I was so happy to leave the hospital after being there for 10 days!)

I can only walk a few blocks a day, which is so frustrating.  I ran the Philadelphia Marathon in November and a half marathon in March and I expected to be in full-on bridal fitness mode at this point.  So it is really tough to feel like I’m atrophying into a pale marshmallow person, instead of jogging my way to sexy, confident bride.  I get really jealous when I see people jogging and cycling, so that has been difficult.  But I am so grateful to be alive and I am so grateful to be able to celebrate my life, and me and Clarence’s love and to rally with my family and friends as I gear up for the wedding on my own little schedule.  This experience definitely came out of the blue, but I think it came at exactly the proper time.

I had already stopped working in anticipation of moving to Connecticut, so I did not have to worry about loose ends at work, and my work insurance was due to expire—you guessed it—the exact day that I was released from the hospital.  And I still have my own apartment here in Philadelphia where I can quietly recover and attend my follow-up appointments.  Things are progressing ahead of schedule and I feel the strength of everyone’s love and prayers everyday.

I have shed many tears of feeling overwhelmed—but far more of them have been because I was so overwhelmed by the love and compassion and care of all of you reaching out to me and my family and fiancé.  Far fewer tears have been shed feeling overwhelmed and afraid of my diagnosis.  This has really changed my heart to see so much good in people and to want to share more love, knowing what a difference it can really make for a person in need.  I have felt the sweet assurances of Priesthood blessings and prayers from all over the world and it has all meant so much to me.  Thank you for your love, I love you all too!   

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

It's Moissanite...

And it is freakin BLINGIN!  Ba-BLANG!

I picked out all the elements and even selected the stone and seeing it all put together –and on my finger!—is surreal.

STATS: 2.4 carat princess-cut near-colorless Moissanite stone in a white gold Tiffany's style setting on a knife-edge style band.  My dream some true!

Here’s some Moissanite facts, in case you’ve never heard of it:

It is a near-colorless stone that was originally discovered in meteorites and can also be created in a lab.  Yep, that’s a little piece of stardust on my finger :)  Unlike most semi-precious stones that rank at around 5-7 on the Moh’s scare of stone hardness (diamonds are a 10), Moissanite ranks at a 9.5, making it a naturally very durable stone, which makes it ideal for daily wear.  Many experts even claim that Moissanite is more brilliant than diamonds!  But opinions differ on that.  Personally, mine is the prettiest, sparkliest thing I have ever seen!  I am so happy.  I am happy about how it looks, and even more happy about what it means—I’m marrying my sweetie!

Why Moissanite?

First, besides its prettiness, I have some humanitarian qualms with diamonds.

From a New York Times Article called, “In Sierra Leone, Still a Tough Dig for Diamonds,” I take this excerpt:

Diamond mining in Sierra Leone is no longer the bloody affair made infamous by the nation's decade-long civil war, in which diamonds played a starring role.

The conflict - begun by rebels who claimed to be ridding the mines of foreign control - killed 50,000 people, forced millions to flee their homes, destroyed the country's economy and shocked the world with its images of amputated limbs and drug-addled boy soldiers.

An international regulatory system created after the war has prevented diamonds from fueling conflicts and financing terrorist networks.

Even so, diamond mining in Sierra Leone remains a grim business that brings the government far too little revenue to right the devastated country, yet feeds off the desperation of some of the world's poorest people.

"The process is more to sanitize the industry from the market side rather than the supply side," said John Kanu, a policy adviser to the Integrated Diamond Management Program, a U.S.-backed effort to improve the government's handling of diamond money.

"To make it so people could go to buy a diamond ring and to say, 'Yes, because of this system, there are no longer any blood diamonds. So my love, and my conscience, can sleep easily.'

"But that doesn't mean that there is justice," he said. "That will take a lot, lot longer to change."

In many cases, the vilified foreign mine owners have simply been replaced by local elites with a firm grip on the industry's profits.

At the losing end are the miners here in Kono district, who work for little or no pay, hoping to strike it rich but caught in a net of semifeudal relationships that make it all but impossible that they ever will.

…

The sprawling mining business here includes about 2,500 small operations. Unlike oil, iron ore and even gold, diamonds are so easy to transport that if regulations are too onerous and taxes too high, miners and exporters will simply turn to smuggling.

In 2005, Sierra Leone officially exported $141 million worth of diamonds, government records show. That is a vast improvement over the $24 million officially exported in 2001, before stringent new rules known as the Kimberley Process required diamond deals to be certified by the authorities. Before that, most diamonds were smuggled out of the country through Liberia and Guinea and sold for weapons.

...

And from the organization Global Witness:

The value of official exports would be much higher were it not for

smuggling. Unofficial government estimates place the level of

smuggling at 50 per cent, and one recent study suggests that it

is much higher. 
(this is their citation for that claim--

A 2003 USAID study it is argued that the “actual market

value” of Sierra Leone’s diamond production in 2002 was

likely around US$320-400 million, representing an output

level of approximately two million carats. The study further

stated that 90 per cent of these diamonds were being smuggled

out of the county. Sierra Leone Diamond Sector Financial

Policy Constraints, Management Systems International,

Freetown/Washington DC, June 2003. These numbers are

probably too high. The highest level of diamond exports was

set in the late 1960s. The 2 million carats exported at that time

represented all alluvial and industrial production, a level that

could not have been achieved under the conditions of 2003.)

...

Average price per carat are specified by the government, and superficially it appears as

though licence holders sell their diamonds in an open and competitive market.

The truth is, however, that large parts of the industry are informal

and are, for all practical purposes, monopolized by a relatively small

group of people who dictate the price of rough diamonds, reap

most of the economic rewards and exploit those in the production

chain below them. The reasons can be found in the lack of market

knowledge among diggers and miners, limited access to capital,

corruption and the ineffective application of corrective policies.

So, the Kimberly Process and the "end" of a civil war makes us comfortable with buying diamonds because the minig progress is not organized by warlords and now loosely regulated.  But it is still organized basically by slave-owners.  Not okay. 

These are just a few things I cannot help but think of when I see diamonds.  Frankly, it makes me queasy.  Sure, you have a little certificate from your rinky-dink strip mall jeweler…but do you really know that your diamond was not mined by a virtually enslaved 7-year-old miner, living off of scraps?  Personally, I’m not willing to take that risk.

Second, aside from humanitarian concerns, I am not about to feed into the vain diamond marketing machine.

The fact that a diamond engagement ring is an American marital tradition is, well, not fact.  Diamond engagement rings are a relatively new, marketing-driven phenomenon.  

Here's a little history for you:

In the United States, the popularity of diamond engagement rings declined after World War I, even more so after the onset of the Great Depression.


In 1938, the diamond cartel De Beers began a marketing campaign that would have a major impact on engagement rings. During the Great Depression of the 1930s, the price of diamonds collapsed. At the same time, market research indicated that engagement rings were going out of style with the younger generation. While the first phase of the marketing campaign consisted of market research, the advertising phase began in 1939. One of the first elements of this campaign was to educate the public about the 4 Cs (cut, carats, color, and clarity). In 1947 the slogan, "A Diamond is Forever," was introduced. Ultimately, the De Beers campaign sought to persuade the consumer that an engagement ring is indispensable, and that a diamond is the only acceptable stone for an engagement ring. The campaign was very successful. In 1939 only 10% of engagement rings had diamonds. By 1990, 80% did.  (*See Howard, Vick (2008). Brides, Inc: American Weddings and the Business of Tradition.)

Still have doubts about marketing being at the root of all this?  Consider this-- one of the main characteristics in determining the value of a diamond is its color.  So, it stands to reason to assume that a crap-like brown colored diamond would cost next to nothing and hardly even be considered a diamond.  Nope.  Enter marketing and now these are somehow desirable “chocolate diamonds.”  We are all dumb lemmings in the face of multi-billion dollar marketing industries, but I digress…

Third, artificial inflation.  I don’t like to waste money.  My fiance’s money will soon by jointly mine and I’m not about to waste thousands of our dollars on something that looks IDENTICAL that costs like $70.  I’d much rather buy a better quality wedding dress, go to Europe, re-do our floors, or really use that money on anything else than a shiny little blip that I’ll probably accidentally lose at some point in the near future anyway…

All that is to say, I am engaged, my stone is not a diamond, and I AM SO HAPPY! 

 

On Palmyra and Worshipping the Sun

This past Summer was, as always, full of bliss.  I feel that I am a kindred spirit to the ancient people who worshipped the beautiful and glorious sun.  It brings life and light to all of the world, which is certainly a thing to be celebrated.

And then this Fall began, as always, with bittersweet feelings of yet another sun-filled season gone by.  In my reflections on the fading Summer, I was able to recall that, despite my busy working schedule, I spent some wonderful, relaxing, and uplifting times outdoors this year.

For starters, there was Palmyra.  If you're not familiar with LDS Church history, this is a tiny town in upstate New York where a lot of noteworthy events occurred during the era of Joseph Smith.  I was asked to organize a trip there for my Young Single Adult congregation this summer.  It was a MAJOR task that took up virtually all of my free time up until the main event.  So by the time the trip north arrived, I was in desperate need of a long weekend which, fortunately, I got.

The best part about our stay in Palmyra was that we stayed in a gigantic house on one of the largest finger lakes, Lake Seneca.  It was incredibly picturesque.  We had plenty of time to spend on the lake-- swimming, kayaking, skipping rocks...  I kept thinking "What would I be doing right about now if I was at the office?"  Every time I thought that, I smiled knowing that whatever I was presently doing was so far superior to my regular day-to-day workaholic life.

But in all seriousness, feeling the warm breeze as I lapped through the water in a kayak was so relaxing.  I could feel my psyche decompressing.  It was like I could take full breaths again.

And then there was the Sacred Grove.  This is a quiet, nondescript grove of trees out on the site of an 1800s family farm.  This is where God the Father and Christ appeared nearly 200 years ago to jump start this final era of time.  As the name tells, it is a sacred place.  The only noise is from little birds and bugs and softly crunching leaves under-foot.  The light filters through the leaves in beautiful rays and speckles.  There are wooden benches scattered about for people to sit and contemplate or pray.  For me, being in nature has always proven to be a source of reinforcement that there is a Great Creator.

One of my favorite scriptures comes from the prophet Alma when he speaks to Korihor, an anti-Christ asking for a sign to prove the existence of deity--

"But Alma said unto him: Thou hast had signs enough; will ye tempt your God? Will ye say, Show unto me a sign, when ye have the testimony of all these thy brethren, and also all the holy prophets? The scriptures are laid before thee, yea, and all things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it, yea, and its motion, yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form do witness that there is a Supreme Creator."

As Einstein is quoted to have said, "The more I study science, the more I believe in God."

This world is no accident.  Sometimes when we are so wrapped up into our man-made lives, it is difficult to remember the gorgeous God-made creations that surround us.  Being in nature helps me remember that I am just a small speck on a lovely planet, peacefully floating in the vast universe.

Doctrine and Covenants 88:45 describes this as follows: 

The earth rolls upon her wings, and the sun giveth his light by day, and the moon giveth her light by night, and the stars also give their light, as they roll upon their wings in their glory, in the midst of the power of God.

This long weekend in upstate New York was all topped off by having our Sunday church service outside.  I did this in Australia when my study group and I were traveling, and at other various times in my life, and these outdoor Sacrament Meetings have always been special to me.

Mankind began in a beautiful Garden called Eden.  I don't think that was a mistake.  God reached out to our humble globe and planted humans for the first time on this earth in a place filled with trees, flowers, fruit, and animals.

Think about it, even after they left the Garden, I'm sure Adam and Eve worshipped outside in nature-- along with most of the other Old Testament notables, until the tabernacle was built by Moses and Company-- and even the tabernacle was just a fancy tent outside in the wilderness.

Where did Moses commune with Jehovah before the tabernacle?  Up on Mt Sinai through a burning bush.  Yep, even out in the middle of nowhere, Moses had to go for a hike before he could find the peace and quiet to converse with the Lord.

And where did the Atonement take place?  It was also in a Garden-- Gethsemane.  This is where Christ chose to suffer for the sins of the world, kneeling in the grass and dirt surrounded by olive trees.  Jerusalem was a notable city of its day with a pristine, holy temple.  But it wasn't in the temple where the Atonement was made, it was in nature, outside of the imposing walls of Jerusalem.

Holy writ recounts numerous times where special spiritual events occur up on mountains.  Not just Sinai, but also the Mount of Transfiguration, the mountain where the brother of Jared saw the Lord, and so forth.  The mountain of the Lord is a scriptural phrase that equates to the temple, or God's house--a place where His presence reigns.  A place of inspiration and elevated thoughts.  That is exactly how I feel about nature.

One of my favorite Hymns is How Great Thou Art-- it greatly parallels many verses in The Book of Moses.

Here is the hymn as I know it:

O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the worlds thy hands have made,
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed

Refrain:

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art! How great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art! How great thou art!

When through the woods and forest glades I wander
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees,
When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur,
And hear the brook and feel the gentle breeze

Refrain

And when I think that God, his Son not sparing,
Sent him to die, I scarce can take it in,
That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin.

Refrain

When Christ shall come with shout of acclamation
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart!
Then I shall bow in humble adoration,
And there proclaim, My God, how great thou art!

Here is a verse and refrain from another version of the same hymn:

When I behold the heavens in their vastness,
Where golden ships in azure issue forth,
Where sun and moon keep watch upon the fastness
Of changing seasons and of time on earth.

With rapture filled, my soul thy name would laud,
O mighty God! O mighty God! (repeat)


My summer finished with a trip to Shenandoah National Park in Virginia.  It had breathtaking beauty in its rolling green hills and amazing boulder sculptures.  (See here for ALL the lovely photos)

During this trip, as on all my prior hiking trips, the song continually on my lips was For the Beauty of the Earth, which is DEFINITELY my #1 favorite hymn in the whole LDS hymnal!

For the beauty of the earth,
For the beauty of the skies, 
For the love which from our birth 
Over and around us lies, 
Lord of all to thee we raise 
This our hymn of grateful praise.

With all of this gratitude and joy that I reap from the sunny summer months, it is no wonder that every year-- especially since I've moved from Southern California to the frigid East-- Labor Day is my own personal day of sorrow, for I must start bidding the sun's warmth farewell for far too long.

Appropriately enough, in 6th Grade we were assigned Greek gods & goddesses to study and embrace and I was given Persephone-- the daughter of Demeter (goddess of the harvest) who was stolen away by Hades and brought to reign in the Underworld as his queen.  One day she's prancing around in the flowers, and the next she is gone and the world turns to icy winter.  The compromise is that she is allowed to come back every year and, inevitably upon Persephone's return to the land of the living, Spring arrives.  To me, winter certainly feels like the Underworld at times.  All of the songs talk about "White Christmases" but they forget to mention the subsequent gray-brown sludge piled up in the roads after a good snow.  Gross.

This year for Labor Day I grabbed onto the last rays of sunshine by going stand-up paddleboarding on a nearby lake with my greatest adventure companion, Ian.

And here I am worshipping the fading sun, I mean, doing upward-facing-dog.

As the seasons change year in and year out, plants decline only to re-bloom and re-grow.   Spring is the perfect setting to commemorate Easter, the ultimate re-birth, when Christ returned to life in full vitality, having burst the inconceivable trap of death.  He returned from the Underworld and gave hope of the ultimate Springtime-- resurrection.

Again, even the seasons are part of what Alma was talking about when he stated that "all things denote there is a God."

So, yes, in a sense I do revere and honor the sun.  But not just the sun, I stand in awe of the Great Creator and all things that bear witness of His existence.  Nature is a manifestation of His power and glory.

As yet another hymn says best-- Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of Creation.  Because, in my humble opinion, that is exactly what life and families are all about-- love, beauty, creation.