Archive for February 25th, 2006

This one is naked, friends. Bear with me, I’m juggling movie metaphors. Beatrix Kiddo is getting ready to kick Bill’s ass once and for all, while the theme from Rocky plays in my head.

If you haven’t met Deb, go right now, just click on her name and read that post, then come back. She went in the hospital last Sunday, to prepare for the stem-cell transplant that will save her. That will give her back her life, and give her back to her little girl, Zoe. It’s almost time. The real deal goes down on Monday. If you’ve been praying, step it up. If you haven’t been, I’m pleading with you, start. I can’t tell you how much I believe in the power of prayer. I will go to a basketball game this afternoon where I will cheer for my evidence that prayer produces results. When I research the disorder that I have, and the medications that I took, to become pregnant — there is no medical reason that she should be here. My disorder was not cured nor even treated adequately. It was the prayers that were adequate. Mine, Jif’s, our families’, our church’s, that’s what gave LG life. Deb is getting the best medical treatment possible; combine that with prayer, and she will be given life, too.

This morning at 6:15, I nudged Jif awake. “You ‘member Kill Bill?”


“Kill Bill! ‘Member it?”

“Yea . . .”

“What was it, what was that move that Uma did that finally killed him?”

“I don’t remember . . .”

That’s what the internet is for. It was the Five Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique. Deb identifies with Uma Thurman’s character in the Kill Bill movies. AN ASS-KICKER EXTRAORDINAIRE. She’s even called “Debuma,” in certain circles. Deb has Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia — A.L.L. And if that doesn’t sound like a nasty-enough motherfucker, it is “Philadelphia chromosome positive.” I don’t know what that means, except that it makes it meaner and harder to kill. But did you see the movies? Who’s harder to kill than Bill? And he went down. And so will A.L.L., this time.

Sometimes, because I talk about God here (along with sex, and various body parts, and brownies, and all the rest of the crazy), people write to me about their beliefs or their unbelief. Sometimes they say they don’t know how to pray. Don’t overthink it. It’s just talking to God. You don’t need a special language, you don’t need a formula, you just talk. And I can guaran-damn-tee, there will never be anyone you talk to who is happier to hear from you. You will be welcomed with open arms. Just, PLEASE, do it. If you could hear me, you’d hear begging in my voice. If you could see me, you’d see tears.

And please take some comment-love to Deb today. Please bombard her with comments this weekend so that when she goes in for the stem-cells on Monday, she’ll take all of our love with her. “But I don’t really know Deb . . . ” Look, you don’t wanna mess with me like that today. I don’t know her, either. I know that she’s a human being who can be helped by something that we have, and it doesn’t cost us a dime. Go over there, and say . . . “Just thinking of you . . .” “Sending you love . . . ” “You’re in my prayers . . . ” “Susie sent me . . . ” Any or all of the above. Or tell a joke. OR write out your grocery list; she probably misses ordinary things like that. OK? Just go and do that, my friend.

When you go to Deb’s, you’re going to see some people that you may have seen here. A certain girl band, Nikki and the Sisters. I have to tell you, they are another big reason that I am praying so hard, and asking you so much to help me with that. They lost their beloved Sarah, just months ago, when she was in the process of trying to receive the same type of treatment that Deb will receive. They lost Sarah. I honestly don’t know where or how they have come up with the love, and the grace, the faith, and the hope, and the humor, and the generosity of spirit, to go and support Deb the way they have. But they’re there in full force, all the time. All the time. And I love them. And I want so desperately for THEM to have a win this time. And if you know them at all, I know you want that, too.

Medicine + Love + PRAYER = Five Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique

It’s time. Kill A.L.L. Volume II (because that’s the one where Uma kicks ass, once and for all).


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