Except in my neighborhood it's Let Your YARD be light. I love my neighborhood, I truly do. Roger and I moved here in January of 1985 and we were lucky to land smack in the middle of a neighborhood in the best sense of the word. Our kids grew up with other neighborhood children, playing pick up games of basketball and street hockey and roaming from house to house for spur of the moment nintendo tournaments.

Of course, that was almost 25 years ago and, while our kids have all grown up and moved out, I'm happy to say we still have a pretty neighborly way about our 'hood. Especially when it comes to holidays, most especially Christmas and definitely when it comes to Christmas lights.

Many years ago, our area was the first to put up the candy cane Christmas lights which you can now find PRE-MADE at most stores. What is this world coming to? In OUR day you made them yourself, cutting lengths of PVC pipe, wrapping them with red tape and jamming them into the ground, risking lacerations and possible impalement, but, hey, it's Christmas!

Lights were then strung from pole to pole attached by jumbo paper clips and it was definitely a bonus if all the lights worked the first time around, and the plug reached all the way to the electrical outlet. That would be the Universe's way of telling you to go buy a Lottery Ticket, because it was your Lucky Day!

Our neighborhood has definitely changed over the years. While some of the original owners have moved out, we still have a surprising number of "oldtimers" living here. A fact that I point out to Roger when he asks "who are all of these OLD people living here?" He's always a little surprised to find that they're the same people who have lived here for almost 25 years, just like WE have.

Age has nothing to do with Christmas Spirit though. Most of us still drag out our candy cane lights and extension ladders every year, and the majority of the decorating starts on Thanksgiving afternoon. Not because we're especially FESTIVE, it's just that's the best time to grab the visiting adult children..AFTER turkey and BEFORE pumpkin pie. It's called leverage, or bribery, if you want to know the truth.

Fathers, who were once in charge of climbing tall ladders and navigating steep roofs now gladly turn those chores over to much younger (and possibly dumber) sons. Mothers who, once upon a time, had the duty of adjusting lights and breaking the bad news of blown fuses, now step back and watch while their daughters deal with those seasonal joys.

Every family has its' own traditions. The neighbor across the street from me sells holiday yard art, one family hosts a yearly Christmas concert and Roger still stands in our kitchen window on weekend nights, watching the long line of cars creeping slowly down the street, with passengers enjoying our neighborhood's beautiful light displays.

If you stand close enough, you'll hear Roger's own yearly Yuletide message, "For crying out loud, it's 11:00, don't you people have HOMES to go to?"

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Let Your Yard AND Your Hearts Be Light!

Thanksgiving, 2009

I’ve heard that expression my entire life and it’s proven itself to be true in several different ways. The latest being my sister’s brush with death after her recent hip surgery.

My sister, Michel, went into the hospital on a Monday morning, thrilled to finally have the surgery she needed to put an end to her constant battle with hip pain, caused by the erosion of her right hip joint due to hereditary hip dysplasia. We never dreamed it would turn into a fight for her life.

Michel sailed through the surgery with no problem. In fact, after surgery, when her doctor showed us pictures of her new hip he made the observation that she definitely was one tough woman. The surgery revealed Michel had been walking “bone on bone” for so long she had actually worn groves in the bone itself. She had been dealing with extreme pain for a long time.

Which makes it all the more surprising that this same doctor turned a deaf ear and a blind eye when Michel started having chest pains, difficulty breathing, and hallucinations?

My niece, Suzanne, and I became concerned when other patients, who were operated on the same day and were significantly older than Michel, were buzzing down the hall for their daily physical therapy workouts. Michel, who required constant oxygen, was unable to get out of bed even for a brief bathroom trip, without gasping for air and grabbing her chest in pain. Questions to the nurses resulted in answers of “it’s a reaction to the pain medicine”, even though Michel had received no pain medicine for over two days.

And so began a journey that amazed my family and taught us many valuable lessons. When seeing that the nurses and even doctors attending Michel were less than interested in her care, Suzanne dug in her heels and began to wage a calm, dignified campaign to get her mother the care she so desperately needed.

Suzanne began keeping a log of her mother’s medicines – the doses and times they were administered. Which was a good thing, since the nurses couldn’t seem to remember what medicine was needed or when it was supposed to be given; and she made sure she was there every time a doctor was due for a visit. She patiently began questioning them about her mother’s lack of recovery and apparent downward spiral, making sure they knew exactly what Michel’s problems were. She never backed down, even when she was patted on the hand by a very patronizing surgeon and told she “didn’t need to worry about things like that”.

I’m sure he regretted those words when, the next day he ordered Michel to take a shower, go to physical therapy and be discharged to go home. The crisis occurred when a nurse, assisting with the shower, witnessed Michel almost lose consciousness, and double over in chest pain.

Now, let me just step in here and say that Suzanne is a college graduate and an extremely smart woman. After her first child was born, she chose to take the same path I, and many other women, have followed and is currently a stay at home mom to three young children. To stand toe to toe with medical professionals, question them and even politely disagree with them would be a difficult task for most people. Maybe more so for a woman who society might feel has taken the “easy way out”. I have to admit, the fact that, amid all of the medical professionals, my sister’s survival depended on the perseverance of two stay at home moms just boggles the mind.

The nurse, witnessing Michel’s obvious distress, called the doctor and emergency tests were performed. Not surprisingly, the tests revealed Michel had thrown multiple blood clots to both lungs, resulting in damage to her heart and lungs.

Believe me when I tell you things definitely changed and all of a sudden, the unconcerned, apathetic hospital workers became highly interested and motivated to ensure Michel received the care she needed.

Cardiologists and Pulmonologists were called in and, after reviewing her case, more than one doctor commented that Michel would have died if not for her daughter’s perseverance and determination.

As I write this, my sister isn’t out of the woods yet…she has over a year of daily blood thinners and monitoring her blood levels in her future as well as damage to her heart and lungs which may end up being permanent.

And yet, it could have been so much worse. Like I said, we’ve all learned lessons from this experience. Do not have any medical procedure done without thoroughly checking out the doctor and the hospital. A lot of suburban hospitals are quite good at what they do, but, often times, they are not equipped to deal with a patient who experiences life threatening complications.

Don’t EVER have a procedure done, even a minor one, without someone with you at all times. Don’t count on the medical staff to have your best interests at heart. Make sure you have your OWN advocate to speak for you, if you can’t speak for yourself.

And, finally, remember: It’s not the size of the daughter in the fight…it’s the size of the FIGHT in the DAUGHTER.

Thank you, Suzanne.