The annual Colonoscopy STILL causes angst

You'd think after 15 years of having to have an annual Colonoscopy it would become a piece of cake. Not for this girl. The trauma of a Cancer diagnosis is a whirlwind, a game changer, a mind fuck. Ontop of it, I have Lynch Syndrome. A positive DNA predisposing Me to Colon Cancer, Uterine Cancer, and Stomach Cancer. This visit was the double whammy. I had an Endoscopy and a Colonoscopy. From the consultation weeks ago to the long drive down the hill today I was in my head. Nervous. My mind thinking crazy things: hmmm why all of a sudden my 2 nephews are coming from the East Coast to visit for the holidays, why I finally went on the Alaska cruise I had on my bucket list, why I was finally inducted into the Bay Area Radio Hall of Fame and why My beloved best fur baby ever my Olde English Bulldog, LugNut, passed 4 months ago after 12 beautiful years.The mind ran all those thoughts. As I layed there today I didn't cry like before.I decided to clutch the small picture of my LugNut explaining to the Nurse I wasn't a crazy dog lady, I just needed my angel with Me. For some reason I thought having LugNut there would help Me. When I was wheeled into the surgery room and saw the team going over the notes again aloud so they all agree I knew any moment when I went out I would wake up to the results I would have to process no matter what they were. When I awoke there beside my bed was the Nurse and Dr House. I opened my eyes to a smile from both of them and those technical medical photographs of my insides being held by the Doctor. "There were zero polyps this time, Everything looks great" I was in disbeleif. I felt the lump in my throat, but I didn't cry. I just said "Thank You" I grappled with my life again. I thought over and over again I have to let things go, I have to stay away from negativity, I have to only be with authentic people. I have another chance to claim a seat at the table of life. Thank You God for my life today.

National Colon Cancer Day March 3rd

Been quite some time since I have blogged. Saw the date on my iphone calendar "National Colon Cancer Day March 3rd". I guess I put it in my phone to remind Me. Looking at it, I am flooded with different thoughts. Something to acknowledge, something I'd like to forget. A diagnosis that rocked my whole world. A diagnosis that changed my life forever. Since 2010 I am still navigating this disease.I had a reoccurance in 2020, thank GOD no lymph nodes that time around were involved. The side effects of numb feet and calves, fingers and a permanantly swollen left leg due to lymph nodes removal and chemo infusions all still prevail. The effect it had on my son breaks my heart still.I have lost many to cancer, and I know a few right now who are battling the beast that it is. Their diagnosis always spins Me. Anger, Compassion, Guilt for living, Wanting to scream about it. The emotion feels like a bubbling wave of energy inside Me. Sometimes I seriously want to end it all.It truly is crazy making. Why in the hell they have not found a cure for all cancers is sickening to Me. I think there is, I think there is a disturbing reason why they don't. It's moments like these that it is imperative for Me to shut off the mind chatter, stop the blog writing and distract until I can shake the thoughts. I have opened a can of worms in my mind right now. March 3rd will haunt Me all day,I am overwhelmed with sadness for those who I know who are battling the disease now. I have to only do one thing. Practice the mantra I recited every morning and night while going through chemotherapy: Thank you God for my life today.

The Valentines Day Reality after so many years

Let's face it Valentines Day has its ebbs and tides.Three decades ago the long sought after perfect romantic cards were exchanged, the date night was carefully planned and always filled with excitement and sentiments.After about 5 years the romantic cards turned to funny cards because the mushy words just didn't fit my marriage narrative.Funny cards were easier to explain the reality.Then the cards dropped off, the gifts stopped and maybe there was a dinner out because after all who wants to cook on Valentines Day? It's not as special as it use to be, it's done because it's the right thing to do, but the relationship in reality is defined as "complicated" or better yet a "sick click". Yes my 10 year old son blurted out in a car ride one day "Mom, you and Dad have a sick click"..."What?!" "Well you click, but it's kind of sick"...the reality is: he nailed it.So as the years move forward and the ebbs and tides of the marriage now include radio job losses, several cancer diagnosis', moves, adjustments to the empty nest and a new reality, we have a new Valentines Day.Our biggest passions aren't necessarily each other but our chosen lines of work which we both love, our travels, our times with special friends. So in reflectiing on the years I remember a very special night as newly weds which brought up the sweet memories that back then were so easy to create. It was a listener Valentines cruise presented by KABL, my then Radio gig aboard the SF Spirit, a stunning 150 foot vessel built in 1991. We dressed up in our best while having the coolest Valentine date night. It's a memory with a wonderful photograph.So today, to say I found a sweet sought after Valentines Day card with words that defined us today from my hubs and a Spa certificate on the counter top and Me giving him a box of chocolate covered strawberries, I saw the full circle.It's a realistic Valentines Day .Still crazy after all these years we did it.It was a sweet Valentines Day as simple as it was, and I kind of like it this way.

Annual Colonoscopy for a Colon Cancer Survivor

I guess it doesn't help that I have a large amount of anxiety around my Cancer. There are so many so much braver, are living with a colostomy bag and many who have lost the fight. I am living, I have no bag, and I am a baby.I dreaded today. I was behind in my annual Colonoscopy procedure. Procrastination, my former surgeon on a sabbatical, and finding a GI Surgeon close to home. I am suppose to have a Colonoscopy every year, and every other year an Endoscopy. The appointment where they go at Me on both ends. This was my appointment today. I have been a bundle of nerves for weeks.I found my new surgeon, had my Facetime appointment, and added it to my calendar. So today there I was...in a new facility, with a new surgeon and the year of the "double treatment". Lord knows I got through the prep, but the 1 hour drive to the new Surgeon was nerve wracking. I didn't say much on the ride just tried to stop the chatter in my brain. My son Adam checked in as I finally told him 2 days ago I was going in. he told me I need to work on the anxiety. HA! Easier said than done. Crazy thoughts passed through my mind. What if they find a polyp? What if I have to make the decision for treatment? What if it interrupts Adam's upcoming wedding? What if I'm not even here! The thoughts were rampant.The routine was the same: checking in with pages of papers to sign, then escorted to the room, then changing into the dumb oversized gown. As I settled myself on the bed and the Nurse came in to start the IV the tension grew.Questions, blood pressure, temperature and then to find the vein. My veins aren't easy, I knew when I felt her patting my arm she was having a problem. I began to breathe deeply. She tried. It didn't work. I hit my limit...I started to cry. Huge tears began pouring down my cheeks,and she apologized for hurting Me. I wasn't hurt, I was horribly scared. Through tears I told her, "My journey scares Me, you didn't hurt Me, it's all been too much for too many years" She felt so bad, and asked me to breathe deep, while we settled on my wrist. It worked! I was left to calm down. I stared at the walls. I told myself crying doesn't help and I have to get centered so I do well under anesthesia.As I met the Anesthesiologist I slowly felt better. She reassured me of the endoscopy as I told her I was afraid it would effect my speaking voice. I have voice overs to do when I get home and I booked one with my Agent, so I can't have a different voice.She rolled me into the operating room. I saw new faces in the room. A new nurse approached me and said "I am going to insert your mouth piece, this will allow for the endoscopy" I quickly looked over and heard the Anesthesiologist say, "okay, Trish here you go, sweet dreams" Upon waking back in my room there stood my surgeon, Dr Low. "Well everything went great", In my drug induced stuper all I could ask was "Any polyps?" "Absolutely none, I knew you'd be good" Suddenly everything was good, the relief was heavenly, and I could live again for another year.He found some tissue to look at in my stomach, but not of any concern, some mention of Celiac. I will deal with that and read up on it when I get home is what I thought.I was finally elated. So I did it.It is a learning process every year and every year its at a different moment that I cry.I am a baby.Annuals do a number on Me. When I got home I thanked all my prayer warriors who I reached out to. I wrap this day up with deep gratitude once again. God help everyone who goes through health issues. I understand more than you know. Thank you for my life today.

She would've been 90, but she died at 50

January 16th is a date that stops me in my tracks every year. My Moms birthday.Birthdays were a very big deal in my childhood not just for me, but for the whole family. Gifts, and a cake with ice cream, and a gathering and the infamous phonecall: "__ years ago today I brought home a little baby girl!"...and on and on and on.My Mom made a big deal about them. But her birthdays were cut short, way too short.She died at 50, from Cancer. I found my Moms gravesite just 2 months ago, after having not visited it for decades, My husband and I were in nearby Vacaville at a birthday party in Fairfield. There was no way I could be that close and not visit her gravesite. I was hell bent on finding it. After several strolls around the vicinity in which I thought she was in, I found her! It was unreal. I had some coffee in hand and sat down near her plot and sipped the rest of it. Mom loved coffee. Coffee with her girlfriends was a must each day of her living life. I never shared coffee with her when she was alive, so this coffee moment was extra special. My visit confirmed to me, I must see it again, and why not on January 16th? January 16th 2022, I packed up my car with my silly Olde English Bulldog, LugNut, a small bouquet of flowers and pine clippings from my beautiful property and we trekked to Vacaville again. I zig zagged through the cemetary as I was trying to find it quicker this time, up and down the narrow one laned roads and I finally did find her plot.I did! Unloading all that I brought, the pretty red carnation flowers and baby breaths, the cellphone, and LugNut all leashed up, we walked to her grave. There it was and there it blaringly showed she was 90. She would've been. LugNut immediately sat down with his Bulldog side saddle and sat right smack on the edge of her gravesite, turned around with that funny little lower poutted lip and looked at Me.I laughed and thought, "Gosh my Mom would've loved you LugNut" She loved cats, and horses and all types of dogs. Vacaville was where she was born and she stayed at the family Cherry Farm ranch as a child, so it all felt like home to Me. I saw a beautiful blue jay fly down to the fence and stare our way. I wondered if it was Mom maybe checking in with Me. I really didn't say much. I placed the pretty bouquet of flowers in the small vase I brought there, and placed the extra pine sprigs on her parents grave, my great great Aunt's grave and my Grampas Brother and sister in law graves. I had really only one important yet sad thing to say: "I miss you Mom". I packed up my things and slowly cruised out of the cemetary.I scrolled through my playlist in my phone and selected the Sappy Sads, and as I pulled out of the cemetary grounds I heard an old Jim Croce song, "Time In A Bottle", my Mom loved that song, and I smiled knowing I made a big thing about HER birthday today, and she deserved it. She would've been 90, but she died at 50.

3 stories of Self Care at the Rose Hotel

Plans for Christmas 2021 became increasingly stressful as we neared the day. Carefully watching the forecast of the sierra's impending snow storm began to dictate whether plans to be with our son would be feasible.My husband started his loud ranting about how our son doesn't spend time with us, how he is tired of going to other peoples homes, how he has an obligation to keep our property plowed along with the neighbors properties he felt obligated to do also.The escalation of his yelling was turning my stomach again. I wanted to see my son, I wanted to then go down to Capitola to my serenity, and then on the way home would attend my dear friends celebration of life services. I was orchestrating it all to make it work out. I was internalizing allot of jumbled up nerves. I hated where it was all going. I called my son and let him know I was worrying about the weather and played down his Fathers thoughts.My son came through with an idea...spend the night at the historic Rose Hotel on Main Street in downtown Pleasanton, attend the Christmas gathering and next day head to Capitola. I loved the idea,as it was his gift to us for Christmas. As my husband continuued to rant and then conclude the gift certificate was being spent with money we lent our son I knew this plan was going nowhere.I realized I can go solo, husband can stay home and do his plowing and receive his kudos from all the neighbors and I was going to find my peace of mind. After making sure Christmas Eve he had his favorite meal, I played the game because I knew in my mind I was about to feed my soul, and practice self care. Christmas morning I crawled out the driveway in my AWD Honda with light snow gently falling along with a huge storm pending and my favorite hand picked Christmas tunes playing through my phone. I was escaping. All I could think is :Merry Christmas to me. I stayed at the Rose Hotel decades ago, with my husband in fact. I wrote a cute story about how we had met, when the marriage was all good, and sure enough I hit the jackpot with a complimentary stay at The Rose.When I entered the hotel with my suitcase in hand and saw it was still magical. Every single corner was decorated with holiday decor, the fire was burning in the fireplace and the coincierge was so lovely. My room wasn't quite ready so I sat myself on the cozy velvet couch, sipping a delicious cup of coffee while watching the rain out the decorated windows. I was in my heaven. Moments later I saw a solo man sit down at a lobby table, open his laptop and feverishly begin typing away. He answered a few phone calls and went back to his project. I couldn't help but to at least walk by and wish him a Merry Christmas.It seemed sensible to ask "a tourist?". "No", he paused for a few seconds and said "actually I live right down the street"."oh, how nice a staycation?"I asked. "Well actually I moved out from my house, my girlfriend and I are going through something,this hotel made the most sense for me to escape to", I replied, "wow not the best time to be going through this, but if it's any consolation to you, I have a scrooge at home who pretty much dictated my outcome of staying here tonight. Besides I want to see my son, and then escape to Capitola a few days" The conversation comfortably continuued. "She doesn't know what she wants, wants to travel all the time, but I have a business to run, I can't just do that", I replied, "she sounds restless, I was married before, he left me unexpectedly and I knew right then I better travel to places I've never been to, get my career together and get myself a roof over my head, and I did,my condo that I am escaping to is just that, it's my peace of mind,it's my 401, I'm not letting anyone take that away from me""This stay here tonight is exactly what I need" Our conversation was very pleasant as we shared our personal stories. Suddenly the coincierge walked by and smiled "I couldn't help but hear your conversation, I was married before, he was an alcoholic, I had to get out. I remarried but I then knew more of what I need to stay sane in life, I stay here on weekends to do my job and then go home afterwards. it's how I keep my marriage working" We all looked at each other and laughed.There we were all finding ways to practice self care, save ourselves from the drama we signed up for in our sometimes sad lives. There really was nothing more to say to my friend, but "I hope it works out to whatever is best, Merry Christmas, and thanks so much for the chat" I checked in my room and oohed and awed all the beauty in it's 4 walls. A jacuzzi spa, luxurious bed, velvet chairs, quiet, just the gift I needed. Adam and his fiance' came and picked me up and brought me to the Christmas gathering. We laughed, we ate, we drank and exchanged gifts.I was dropped off back at The Rose Hotel and stopped in the lobby and sat by the glowing fire alone and thought about my night. I did treat myself to a wonderful gift by not letting my husbands tyrrade stop me and there I was with 2 others, all 3 of us who had found The Rose Hotel to feed our souls and practice the self care we needed for our stories. It was magical, it was wonderful because we were all blessings to each other at the beautiful magical Rose Hotel.

Losing 3 longtime girlfriends in 25 days, really?

In the past 25 days I have lost 3 buddies who all were in important chapters in my life. Unexpected deaths that affected all decade of my life.These women were in my career, they were in my twenties, they were in my time of being a Mom.I stumble as I write because each one have touched hundreds of people, not just Me. November 11th I was scrolling Facebook only to see a post from Ann's sister. "Unexpectedly we lost Ann" I took a double take on the post.What!? Ann and I just messaged each other about music in the Santa Cruz area, Cold Blood was returning. Ann was my buddy when I first moved to Santa Cruz as a 20 year old too young to be married working at Pac Bell. I loved that hippie girl Ann who sat next to me as we answered our Directory Assistance calls laughing at the insane questions coming our way. She had the sweetest sounding voice. I loved it. She teased the hell out of Me when she saw me planning a dinner meal of hot dogs and beans. "You don't eat Hot Dogs and Beans do you?!!"It was my new road to tofu and a non meat diet.I moved on from that job, went to college, dabbled in radio, left the area and found Ann again on Facebook.Years later met up in Santa Cruz and had a rockin' night enjoying live music laughing about those crazy Pac Bell days. Ann's passing was totally unexpected.I am so grateful to have been her buddy,she was one of a kind. Now for JoAnn. My young marriage painfully ended in Santa Cruz,and I was about to embark on a single life I never had. JoAnn was 5 years younger than Me. Full of life and dreams. We would have her pretend Flight Attendent passenger instructions after way too many cocktails always laughing hysterically while we cheered her on. JoAnn married and left the area, had a son and was diagnosed with cervical cancer, and fought it hard. It changed her life. Her marriage ended, she moved to Texas, and began her career as a Flight Attendent at age 40. She resurfaced when I was diagnosed with my uterine and colon cancer in 2010,giving me tips on how to keep a positive attitude. It was a great reconenction,she was so much wiser and enlightened. Her son grown up now married, had a baby, and JoAnn now diagnosed with her 2nd cancer,Breast cancer, had something to live for. A grandchild, and soon two.She endured all the horrible side effects and yet pushed through.Two months back in September her healthy took a nose dive. Fluid in her lungs, unable to breathe, the cancer was back.I was heartbroken for her,I wanted to selfishly have her for years longer.It didn't end that way. I saw the post on Facebook,as she wasn't returning my calls or texts. It just wasn't like her. November 24th JoAnn took her last breath at the age of 61.I am stunned and broken. Finally,Sweet Renee. Renee was my bud when I became a Mom. It was a late decision for me to become a mom,as my radio career was sailing along. Renee was younger and her son was in classrooms with our son Adam. We went on field trips, attended school chapel, met for coffee, school plays, Christmas exchanges, and took long exercise walks. Renee saw her children graduate from college, her son marry and worked dilgently to become healthy. A few years back she was diagnosed with Crohns Disease. Hooking her up with my sister in law who also battles the disease, they leaned on each other and exchanged tips on living with the disease.Renee spent her last days with her family.friends and her faith. She gained a daughter in law and shared an afternoon with them, wrapping up the evening viewing the neighborhood Christmas lights. Renee passed in her sleep that night December 6th. Too young. Unexpectedly. Her children, and hundreds of friends are devastated, she would have been 55 December 30th.We are now preparing for her services on that day. I am trying to wrap my head around all of this. Various decades in my life these women shared laughs, tears, hopes, dreams, and their time with Me. 3 longtime friends gone in just 25 days. I am grateful I was lucky enough to have them as friends in life,but I hurt for all of these beautiful women have left behind. Sadly the reality has set in. I miss you Ann, I miss you JoAnn, I miss you Renee.

A Cup of Coffee with Mom

I lost my Mom when she was 50 years old to Breast Cancer. She was first diagnosed at age 48. My Mom was well loved by many. What was most important to her were her kids and her girlfriends. She would spend a few hours, a few days a week, over her girlfriends homes having a cup of coffee with them. She was escaping my Father, who was a rager. It wasn't easy living in that house with that nonsense, thats why I always knew my Mom loved her girlfriends. I don't know how much she shared with them about my Dad. I wished I knew. I know she was in pain and there was a deep sadness in her about it all.I never had a chance to drink coffee with my Mom. I actually started drinking coffee in my late 30's.I immediately knew this was a ritual. For me,drinking coffee with girlfriends was a treat, it was my go to for a catch up conversation. I pop in the local coffee shops a few times a week to this day because I still see it as a treat, it's my self care. This weekend my husband, Jeff and I celebrated my childhood girlfriends son in law 50th birthday. It was a two hour drive from our house. The party was a blast that included a few of my childhood girlfriends who knew my Mom.The trek was too far to come back home so we stayed at a hotel in Vacaville. Vacaville was where my Mom was buried. Alongside her parents, my grandparents, whom she loved deeply.Vacaville was where I went as a kid to the Ranch with cherry trees, walnut trees, at a gorgeous farm house with antiques in every room. It's where my Mom would go as a child and ride horses, and sip tea and coffee with my great Aunty in the huge old fashioned kitchen.I had to go find my Mom today. I have only visited my Moms gravesite a few times. The last time was decades ago. I could only remember it was near a street on a sloped hill.The office was closed so we drove around and I got out with Me grasping my cup of coffee that I was sipping from our ride.I trekked around the cemetary quite a bit. I texted a cousin who has kept up on our family history, "where is my Moms gravesite?" My phone died as soon as I sent it. I just couldn't stop looking, I kept thinking I know I would be disappointed if I got back in the car without finding it. I wondered further, and then, I found it! I couldn't beleive my eyes. Her parents, Aunty, her dads brother and sister in law, and there was my Mom. There I was standing with my cup of coffee. I was in disbelief. I knew she wouldnt let me go until I found her. I had no flowers. My phone died and I needed to have that cup of coffee with her. Why not ? Jeff's phone was working so I kneeled down and told her thanks and took a big sip from my cup.There were no tears. I just smiled that I didn't give up looking. We celebrated a 50th birthday and my Mom died at 50. It was a bittersweet thought. Today I finally had a cup of coffee with my Mom.

"It's all a blur" I told the Nurse walking to surgery

It was the annual colonoscopy procedure. The procedure that determines my fate each year because of living with Lynch Syndrome.I spent 24 hours prepping for it with the nasty liquids and a mind racing trying to feed me with fear. It is the annual ritual I go through since being diagnosed with stage 3 Colon Cancer Fall of 2010.As I was called back the young nurse walked me down the long hallway, pressed the enter button leading me to the surgical prep area while explaining to me now that we are in Covid we have to enter the area differently. I said, "It's all a blur" I have done this so many times I forget the details, but I know my emotions are always the same. I begin feeling fearful as I get closer to the changing room. As I fold my clothes up and place them in the belongings bag, I wrestle with those recurring thoughts. I start bargaining with God. I flash on the fact the past few days I was looking at a file full of pictures of me highlighting my life. Yes I go there. I think if I don't make it, I will be prepared with my pictures that could be played at my funeral. Call it crazy, but walk in my shoes and you will know. Any cancer survivor fights these thoughts before every lab test, every CT scan and every procedure. I ring the bell and let them know I am ready and they walk me to my bed and begin the many tasks to get me ready. The warm blanket, the blood pressure, the IV, the asking me who I am and when is my birthdate and why am I there. Then I wait. Then I go to the place of fear and all alone, and my eyes well up with tears.I fight them this time, I bargain with God again and I visualize Dr House telling me I was all clear, no polyps, I'll see you in a year. The anesthesiologist introduces himself and explains to me the fast acting drug that I know so well. The one I actually love because it is short acting but lets me escape from all the fear I have.Dr House stops by and asks her questions then scrubs up. I am wheeled in the operating room, I remember some small talk, and I remember the warm Propoful fluid go into my arm. It was quiet, I was out. Then the moment I prayed for was evolving. I see Dr House bedside, and she tells me the words I wanted to hear, "no polyps,you did fine". I thanked her profusely. I embraced every single ounce of gratitude I had. I worked on being more awake so I could go home.I thought of what I can eat, who I am going to tell first-Adam for sure, then all my buddies who are always pulling for me, and I mostly looked forward to getting on the mic and voicing a script. It is exactly what I did. I am grateful, I am blessed and I thank God for my life again today.

A Conservative in the Voice Over and Radio world

This blog takes guts. All the guts I have is being laid out here tonight. With political views as divisive as they are and finger pointing rampant and free speech being stripped from the Right, I am risking everything talking about my stance, risking a Producer or client from booking me for a Voice Over just because, risking a Radio opportunity that I could be interested in. For some crazy reason I feel a bit safe here. Just a tiny bit. I could never say it on Facebook,(I deactivated my Facebook page months ago) I wouldn't on Instagram, and I don't have a stupid Twitter account, so my blog is where I share.This has been my tell all most transparent platform. I have needed it for my sanity to get me through my horrible cancer diagnosis, my radio blindside firings and my disappointing Voice Over rejections, and even my crappy marriage. So if I am attacked here, I have nowhere to go. Yet writing is my therapy.I can't help but feel saddened that the very colleagues I offered my home studio to when they got fired from a Radio job so that they can make a demo, the very colleagues who I immediately called when I heard they were fired and offered my ear and time to hear their utter sadness for losing something so passionate to them, the very colleagues who at professional lunches sat at the tables and smeared my Conservative party's views and proudly stated they would cut anybody off that they knew who voted Conservative. I sat there not participating in the conversation at all. I knew I would be lambasted if I did. So despite the fact that in a heartbeat I would give my time, my advice, to someone who was hurting in their job loss or their cancer illness and offer comfort, it is these very people that would say I am a racist and a bigot and deplorable because I am not on their side baffles Me. How in the world can anybody do that? It saddens me so deeply that it exists. I didn't do it to them. I wouldn't even think of doing it to them! Sadly it all exists...my own brothers turned on their only sister, their sister who fought horrible challenges in life, who gathered us together after losing our Mother at age 50 to ugly Cancer, and now they don't talk to me....they had a hunch I was Conservative so figured out a way to angle their email to go for my juggler upon me asking about their Shelter In Place status...Yes, I was called a Moron, Pathetic, a Bible Thumping, Annie Get Your Guns and Stupid Ass. That was the last correspondence they have had with Me. So that is what the other side can do to one who isn't politically on their side? To someone who would give the shirt off their back for them. The sadness I feel from this is deeper than any Radio job firing I have had in my lifetime, as deep as my first divorce, as deep as my voice over rejections. I cannot wrap my mind around it all anymore.So I will proudly say here that I love my country. I love the beauty that it offers in the abounding nature that I am blessed to live in. I have a mountain home and a beach home. I can freely go to either when I need a change of scenery. I love that ,so far, we are free to excel in our careers. Our heads aren't cut off like they are doing in other countries, our children aren't enslaved, our voices can be heard. Although with what is happening with being silenced and threatened for my different point a view I don't feel safe anymore. I have to secretly write my thoughts here and pray I am not lambasted any worse than what my brothers did to me or the threat that my colleagues said they will do. That's a horribly sad world folks. I will close my blog tonight with a sickened feeling in my stomach over this. I will find some song that brings me joy and escape through music or maybe I'll listen to a few of my VO demos and hold onto that small slice that brings me my joy. God this saddens me so deeply. Why would you all do this to Me or anybody anyway? I just don't understand much anymore.

Crappy Christmas in 2020, some mic time to lift my spirits

I do not stand alone with the mental struggles that go on at this time of the year. This whole 2020 journey was one huge cluster f---.I started off the new year in January with yet another diagnosis of colon cancer, the necessary surgery, and now back on the treadmill of a one day at a time life, and then Covid. No I didn't get it,, but the threat lingered over my head like everybody else's. Living in the mountains allowed me this past Summer to sit on a riverbank for hours and collect river rocks in fresh running water without wearing a stupid ass mask, Thanksgiving was guarded, and then Christmas...my scrooge husband who hates it made it horrible by accusing me of catering to my son, doing whatever he wants, just ruined it all, but then there was the reality that our son now is being swayed toward his new girlfriends family, so I stayed home and watched music videos, gathered wood for the stove and sipped on a few Baileys and coffee while my husband went about his man baby ways. I periodically came up to my laptop and checked emails to see if I landed the voice over gig from a long time ago client only to find out the client picked another voice. Another disappointment. I really started thinking about it all. My year and all the episodes and I thought to myself..." a rejection for a VO gig will always be sad" It knocks me off my game for awhile...I mumble to myself, "WTF, why didn't I get that, what didn't they like about me?" It all totally messes with ones mind, and yet believe it or not the disappointing sad feeling is right up there with everything else that goes on in our lives this past year. So I am no different, and yes through the grace of Cancer I can immediately realize other people had worse stories than mine. Sometimes it still feels like mine is just as tough.I sit here on my Saturday night and with my thoughts like a roller coaster ride up and down and up and down, I sit and listen to my pre recorded KZAP radio show and smile. I text a few friends and invite them to listen to all the cool music. The music that brings us back to high school times, times when I didn't even have an ounce of the struggles I have now. Those were the times for sure. The music was magical, it seems to bring me peace. My thoughts stop racing around.Funny how it only makes sense when I can't handle it all anymore, I listen to music, turn others onto it, and think the hell with it all. Escape. That's what I do best, so here I am....thanks for escaping with me.

Hosting Saturday night Radio and evaluating my sound

I knew when I stumbled upon that damn college radio station at UC Santa Cruz I was hooked. What started as a 1 day a week incredibly fun hobby turned to a fulltime Radio career and a second career in Voice Over acting. I was bit by the bug of radio. Lead astray by the magic of music, seduced by Radio's charm.Here I am 3 1/2 decades later thirsting for it all again. I do have it, only very differently now. I built my own studio to record my voice overs, leaving corporate radio a few years back and now host a Saturday night Rock and Blues show on KZAP - Sacramento. I don't choose the KZAP music like I did in my UC Santa Cruz days or like in my early Radio years when we used index cards color coded, for each song and we the jock were able to choose the song, date the time, and file it in the back of the box.KZAP chooses the music for me, but I like it, and that is a radio hosts dream come true. I am here to feel the music with you. I don't talk politics, not allot of mention of family life, but I do share the feeling that was felt when the particular song ruled our life along time ago. This gig, I record from home, and load my breaks onto a computer server and listen to the show on a Saturday night like everybody else listening. Yet it still brings me the magic it did when I first started on the airwaves. When I hear my raps I evaluate them...Did I connect with you? Do you feel like I am your friend? Did your emotion change when you heard the song, in the same way it did for me? There's no politics in this gig. The Program Director actually offered the job to me as I called him looking for ad agencies for my voice over career! He knew my passion. He appreciated my experience. he knew I loved the radio.Life is so different now. I am older, I've worked every radio format there is, and every day part they offer, I have fought 3 cancers, raised a wonderful child, experienced a painful young divorce, and now experience a handful 2nd husband, lol, moved many times, traveled many places, been misunderstood by many and many I don't understand, but to have my passion still in my grip is one of the most fulfilling things I can be doing. Saturday nights are good just the way they are....listening to my show on KZAP Radio. I am deeply blessed through it all and to this day I can recite my mantra that I learned through cancer: I might be down, but I won't give up. Thank you God for my life today.

The Ouch that is felt when a radio gig ends

Again. Yep it happened again. Not a 'phone call' from the Program Director, not a "can I see you after the show?" Not "10 minutes before I was about to go on the air prepared for my show", Not the infamous words "we are going in another direction" - An email. After volunteering for KABL960.com for 13 years, I got the email from the Programming Manager : "I'm so sorry to do this, first and foremost you have done an exceptional job all these years always completely dependable for the past 13 years every Sunday morning for Sunday Sounds but it is just too much work running an internet station with everything else going on in my life, I'm going to shut down KABL" Staring at that email for many seconds and processing what I was feeling, I processed what I know He was feeling, and processed what I knew my other colleague would be feeling and of course what will the listeners do. I was saddened beyond belief. I sat with it for awhile re-reading the email. I started out volunteering at a Santa Cruz college radio station producing a weekly show that I would live for to present each week. It was a mix of Rock, Jazz, Blues, vocals, and instrumentals. I knew I was hooked on this thing called radio.I didn't care that I went to college for another degree, I didn't care I tried another craft for a few years, what I knew is that I was going to embark on my Radio journey.I did with all my heart. landed gigs on every format and every day part in the Industry all in the San Francisco Market: Rock Overnights, Adult Contemporary Weekends, Shock Rock Mornings, Adult Contemporary Mornings, Urban Jazz Mid Days, Smooth Jazz Nights, Love Songs Evenings, and Nostalgia Week Ends hosting Sunday Sounds on KABL960.com. Somewhere in there I took a year to train Voice Overs and made a career with that but I always hung onto a radio gig because I loved the beast. The relationship I created with my KABL960 listeners was so deeply heartwarming, Each email would share the joy Standards and Nostalgia combined would make them feel, allow them to think back and escape from today's world in a very gentle way. These emails came from all over the world. Proving to Me this music is what people miss. I did what I know a dedicated jock would do. I pulled up all my saved emails from the listeners and emailed each and everyone preparing them for the last show. The replies came back immediately, with disbelief and sadness. When Sunday came along I gave them what they rightfully deserved: a heartfelt music filled show from KABL960.com. So I closed with a goodbye with an attempt to correctly pronounce the word good bye with the many languages of the listeners I met, and closed shop. I will resurrect, because I love the joy music brings to people. It's what you do when bit by the Radio bug. I will still record voice overs, but I can't shelf the magic of music. Thank You KABL960, it was a wonderful part of my Radio journey.

From Radio to Voice Overs and Boz Scaggs encounters in between

Sometime, a long time ago, I told my childhood friend, Lisa "one day I want to be a DeeJay", at least that is what she told Me when we found each other decades later as adults. I was the kid that had the transistor radio, the bed side clock Radio, the 45's ,cassettes and LP's. I loved all types of music as a teen in the early 70's. When Boz Scaggs music was introduced to Me, my heart melted, literally. His suave good looks, his music style, and as a San Francisco resident he had Me captivated. The Oakland Paramount, The Greek Theatre, the college campuses, the night clubs, all the venues he played...I was there singing along to every song He performed and leaving the concert elated for days afterwards.I guess it wasn't a surprise that after 2 different careers I sought out a local radio station to work at. I created a Radio show where of course Boz music was in the mix and the show became a town favorite. I had found my passion and soon embarked on my Radio career in the San Francisco Bay Area. I was a jock for Rock, Urban Jazz, Smooth Jazz, Adult Contemporary and Nostalgia formats. It became apparent when Boz was on the play list, my colleagues knew Trish was in heaven to be able to talk about his latest airplay song. Magically these stations gave me an edge to meet Boz. Every colleague asked "what would you do if you met Boz?" Well I did, and every story is as silly as the next: First encounter: Dec 1999 I was let go of my Smooth Jazz station KKSF. In the weeks following I traveled back to the station to create my demo to send out to stations for a new gig.I met a friend at Don Pedros in the city, the restaurant across from Boz's place, Slim's nightclub. I looked across the room at the bar and told my friend "that bartender looks like Boz's brother Mark" She laughed and encouraged me to ask. So I did. "Excuse Me but you look just like Boz Scaggs brother" He slowly turned his head toward the right of Me and there was Boz! Having a glass of wine. I gasped, and blurted,"Oh my gosh, I love you!"Boz looked startled,rightfully so, so my 30 second elevator speech went into action, "I am on air here in SF, have been for many formats and am teased constantly when we play your music,I have been following you for decades,this is an honor to meet you!" Boz in that quiet voice asked, "so how do you know Mark?", I don't personally, but just see him setting up,so knew it was him".I thanked Boz, scurried out of the restaurant with my friend, who began hysterically laughing watching Me fumble for my keys and ride in shock back to the East Bay.My colleagues heard about the story for days. Second encounter: Round two 2007 at KKSF. Yes they hired Me back. Within months I was invited to meet up with the fan club at Mountain Winery pre concert. Gathering spot was a local hotel and then off to the concert.Choosing the hotel elevator to carry my luggage I stepped in, and there he was: Boz standing there. I about died. I froze, he didn't want to chat so I contained every single out of control emotion I had until I made it to my room.Once through the door it was there that I called anybody who understood Me and described the moment. Nobody believed I didn't say a word. Third encounter: Boz playing at GAMH and a fellow fan friend with that extra ticket,so of course I was in. Superb show as always and she scored a VIP Meet n Greet ticket. The nerves rattled again as we stood in the greet line, what could I say this time?! "Great show Boz, love when you perform the Blues, not sure if you remember Me but I was the star struck girl in the elevator last month" Showing that sly Boz smile and a very quiet "Awe, yes" I had nothing more to say, just another warmed heart. Fourth encounter:My fellow Boz fan, Erin, understands. 2010 was my Colon Cancer stage 3 diagnosis-not surprising was my thought, "I have to see Boz once more in case I don't make it" So Erin and I trekked to Napa while in my final month of chemo, very weak, but determined. Through Erin knowing Ms Monet I had my final meet with Boz. After the show we nervously waited near the stage door,and out came Boz. Nothing but a quiet "hello", what Boz didn't know was what he did for my spirit that night. You'd never know I was as sick as I was,but what Boz did for my soul was magic. So Happy Birthday Boz thank you for playing the music you do. I think I'll add Boz to the playlist on my internet shows Saturday eve on K-Zap and Sunday morn on kabl960.com, and smile for sure with a big warm heart once again.

Shelter in Place Microphone ready and boxed memories to go through

Our new normal has affected everybody. Working from home recording voice overs once again is my blessing. When I fought my Cancer, who knew I was weak and tired and counting every day as a gift and there I was reading my scripts. Now as we navigate this pandemic, I have settled in to this job easily. The scripts aren't coming like they use to, but it seems to keep me from slipping into the funk so many are struggling with. Had yet another diagnosis of cancer cells in January. Surgery was performed, tissue removed and ALL 25 lymph nodes are clear. I have yet another chance on life. Now it's time to purge and clean and re-evaluate it all. I decided it is time to go through my box of old cards. The journey through the letters and notes and cards have reminded me of family, friends, long time ago loves, and memories of when my marriage was more loving. Having to move with the time, I carefully pick and choose which cards to purge and which ones should I keep just a wee bit longer. A card from my Father telling me he cares about me and loves Me, Hmmm, where did that come from? Sweet sentiments from my Husband, an email from my ex husband when he found Me on the radio, and rattled my world. The card from my youngest brother thanking Me for the support I gave him during the loss of his marriage, his job, his sobriety. My girlfriends and all their support on my birthdays, my cancer journey, and cards just appreciating our friendships. My crazy French lover in Europe when I traveled 9 countries on my own with a back pack at age 28. The boyfriends after my divorce who I swore were thee one.I certainly am a sucker for a charmer that is for sure. There was a response letter from my therapist, Hila, who I had randomly reached out to and thanked her for her 2 x 4 therapy that I should've listened to a helluva lot longer than I did! The letters and child like writing of Adam I cannot give away, so it goes back into the box as it makes me smile about those early years as a Mom. This isn't an easy task to do, but it needs to be done.The memory seed has been replanted and now as I am here looking back on the road I have traveled, I guess now is not the time to let it all unravel and just move with the time and my moments today. It was a good project. I have an audition to do, and I can thank God for life today once again.

9 years later and it reared its ugly head again

So Cancer decided to visit Me again. 9 years later and I run scared again. 9 years later and the only thing that gets me through is prayer, friends positive words, and getting myself on the microphone. I frantically take care of all the business I need to do. I scramble to get my voice over work orders done, book myself out, all the while staring at the clock that tomorrow will be here and I will be under the knife again. What the hell is this all about? The flood of emotions is the same today as it was nine years ago.Angry, denial, fear, surrendering, disbelief. 9 years ago I am told I have uterine cancer. A full hysterectomy and a stage 1 diagnosis. I dodged the bullet, or so I thought. There sitting in my intestines was an ugly cancerous polyp. The surgeon saw it while I was under the knife. I heal, live with a new scar on my belly and think to myself this won't get Me, "I eat too well, I exercise, I am loving life". It didn't matter because the polyp that was removed was stage 3 Colon Cancer. WTF! My friends got Me through, they stepped up. Drove me to those grueling 6 months of chemo appointments, believed in Me, kept me from going to that dark place that we can go to when told we have cancer. I watched our son Adam fold. I learned later from a long talk with him that he felt he had to put the kid aside and be an adult, he didn't have time to go through that stage in his life. It broke my heart hearing this. This stupid disease wrecks havoc on everybody around Me. I live with endless side effects: numb feet, calves, and hands, lymphedema in my left leg, anxiety at every Doctor's appointment. Cancer you mean SOB, why do you visit Me again? It's that bargain with God again. Give me another chance, don't cut up my body again.let me continue my work, and as silly and laughable as it is....let me see Boz again, let Me see my son marry, have a child, let me feel normal. This is out of my control once again.I reflect on my life and think I did okay. I did what I loved in life. I'm okay. Yet I am numb. I stare at my words here and can't believe I am writing them again.What's the lesson? I can't figure it out. Maybe I am a lesson for others. Who knows. My mantra lives on, for some bizarre completely insane reason I know I am suppose to say :God thank you for my life today.

The 2019 Reflection on life and Voice Overs

I can't put my finger on it, but for many years I have not been all whipped up about New Years Eve and the year ahead. There is an underlying restless discontentment. I watch all the optimistic posts on Social Media and think "why can't I recite that mantra". The annual New Years Day ritual of journeying through my 2019 calendar and transferring all the dates and memories: "the 1 year ago, the 2 years ago to remember events" starts my mind thinking it IS all about gratitude. It is the only way to rise above the doubts and these restless feelings. So I journey through my calendar and I find many things to fill my heart with joy. Taking on Yoga classes Visits from dear friends and radio friends and showing them my ocean and mountain community Getting through Jeff's lung surgery and all the stress that surfaced Getting through another annual colonoscopy and cancer free First time state's visits: cattle farms, San Juan Bautista, Amador County, Glen Ellen Seeing the music I love: Boz, ColdBlood, Willie K, The Rhythm Vandals, Micheal Gaither, The Unauthorized Rolling Stones Attending a childhood friends son's wedding Attending Arlen's Memorial service Comforting those that endure the heartbreaking anniversary dates of their loved one's passing Hosting my sister in law from Georgia to treat her to her trip of a lifetime Making improvements on my Capitola condo Meeting brand new friends in my new mountain area Spending Christmas with our son and his girlfriends family and Voicing, still. No big bookings but being on the microphone to fill my heart's desire. My voice over career is a crapshoot, my life is a crapshoot. So after all the notations are made I realize life is what I make it. There's nothing more to it than that. Thank you God for my life today.

Voicing a script still adds joy to my challenging life

Is it Me or is it all voice actors who have been at it for so many years....a script doesn't come in and the thought is "What the hell is going on, uh oh!" It's so easy to personalize it all..."they must like younger voices now" "they have a young creative team that doesn't appreciate a trained voice" "that current commercial on Brand X voice talent totally sucks, I could've done better" The ups and downs of being a Voice Over talent. I really don't think I stand alone. Have I mentioned the voice talents that are on those pay to play sites, getting paid a quarter of what an Agent can get them and because they do a tagline for a small market for a huge product, they blast on Social Media that they "Have landed a National gig"...geez, what is it that irks Me in it all? It just plain and simple does. But then I check my email inbox and there sits a work order with a script. My day becomes complete! Read it over, add some commas, print it out and set it up in my portable booth in my personal studio. Label the file and hit RECORD. Oh the glory of the script that comes in.How it can change my day in an instant is amazing. I LOVE this craft. I still take classes periodically to get the feedback I need, and I still yearn to land that National with residuals before I die. What a dream come true that would be.It's been a long journey that I am so joyful I went after it. It always comes back to the same thought, thank God I did what I loved in my lifetime. My health has had it's challenges with my 2 cancer diagnosis, my first marriage was a horrible heartbreak filled with disillusions and a forever changed vision of love, my current marriage is one tough road to be part of, living with an explosive personality is so challenging, and still concerned about our 26 year old son's happiness and health, are daily distractions, but to walk into my room and find that script in that email can change it all in an instant. I take a deep breathe, close my eyes and think what my Agent said in a class one day..."always remember to appreciate the Voice Over opportunity, your style was one that they wanted, whether it's an audition, or the real deal booking the script". I guess I will never get this out of my blood, because damn it this voicing a script brings me all the joy I need. Thank you God for my life today.

Radio for Me was a Love Affair played out

It's no coincidence that my Radio career journey was like a true love affair: finding passion, chasing it, being loved in return, being dumped, and forced to reinvent myself each time. The excitement of the new gig was like a brand new relationship in it's early stages: excited beyond belief, determined to put my best foot forward, be loved in return and hope it lasts for a long,long time. Yet Radio broke my heart like a love affair gone bad. I managed to be on air in all genres of radio, and in the 4th largest market in the USA: San Francisco. Adult Contemporary, Album Rock, Shock Rock, Soft Rock, Urban Jazz, Smooth Jazz, News and Traffic and Nostalgia Standards Every ounce of passion was put into every gig I had. Yet, dealt with egotistical Program Directors who for the mere hell of it, decided they wanted someone different and blind sided Me with their break ups. I cried many a time the whole way home from work. I carried my box full of show prep up San Francisco city streets only to cry on my BART ride home. I would feel embarrassed and ashamed to have to say "I lost my gig". And my heart would only break further when someone would say "I don't hear you on the Radio, what happened?" Go to the movies by myself to cry in the theatre alone, walk to clear my head and journal to sort my thoughts. Yet,there was one gig that surprisingly became one of my favorites. For Lovers Only at KKIQ, triple casting on 3 stations at a station 10 minutes from my home. The ultimate love affair gig!Funny that it was a platform to feel love and heartache and silliness all through music. This gig ended as one of my worst break ups...10 minutes before going on the air, the Program Director said "we don't want the show anymore"...the same feeling when a lover blindsides you when it's time for them to move on. I managed to go on the air, and pull off the show, but when the clock struck midnight, I pulled off my headphones and wept in the studio alone. The worst break up ever. I have snippets of my shows from every genre, but the snip you will hear posted shows my love for my audience, for the music I picked, for the passion of Radio. Just a few classic calls, with added photos to celebrate love. And yes, when I listen and look at this it tugs at my heart strings just like any past love affair will do and to this very day years later I sit and cry. Yes, Radio was my love affair, I yes like a lost love, I will always keep it in my heart.

This is the house I brought our son home to, this was the house of 26 years

Today everything gets boxed up. I woke up at 5:40 am and opened my near empty closet and grabbed my robe. I headed down the stairs and into my office where piles of Radio and Voice Over binders are waiting to go into a box. I check my voice over work orders and remember I booked out because of tomorrows move. After 26 years I say good bye to our home. The sadness builds up inside of Me and I begin thinking: the moment we knew the Dublin house was it 1 1/2 years after marrying. Those French doors out to that beautiful huge backyard. The court where families barbque out front for 4th of July, and Labor Day, the great location to BART or commute into the city for my terrific Radio jobs. It was big for the 2 of Us but it was it. 1 1/2 years later baby Adam was brought home to this house. The huge tree in the backyard that shaded the lawn that we sat with Adam as a baby for months is now gone. The parties in the backyard were endless: Easter Egg hunts, baby showers, graduation parties, fire pit nights, entertaining family and friends.The inside went through its endless remodeling transformations and they all were worth every fight, dime and and time.The events associated with time living here are endless: Radio hiring's and Radio firings, Jeff's career job at EBMUD, deaths of our parents, recovering from cancer,Adams high school Football parties, deaths of friends far too young, raising a few cats and now a dog. It all happened in this house of 26 years. We now set our sights on the condo I bought decades ago, blocks from a beach. A place where I created earlier memories in my life. It is scary, it is exciting and it is so bittersweet. Tomorrow our sweet neighbors will bring the coffee over and pastries and send us off. We leave this home of 26 years, the home we brought our only son home to. This was a good house for 26 years,yet I am sad to say good bye.