Donations please...

the earthquake ceased its rumble.....

A few years back - I had - long - waist length - thick red hair…!

Locks of Love…hmmmm I wonder how many people would actually like to have auburn colored hair.

You need 10 inches of healthy, undyed, freshly washed and thoroughly dried hair to be able to donate. Do I have that much? Wound up tape measure is in my hand, I am stretching out my hair and visually checking to see if there are 10 inches or more. Wow, I will have something I haven’t had in years…short hair…but it would be for a good cause. Some ill stricken child or adult, male or female would get a free wig. How wonderful this feeling is. I can do something special for someone in need. There was a part of me that also wondered…if I donate my hair for cancer patients, I am hoping never be stricken with cancer…God would not do this to me.

I made the appointment with a family friend Kris to cut my hair. She is a reliable cosmetologist. I told her of my plans…She already was aware of the rules. Kris ponytailed my hair in about 6-8 different sections. Then she came at me with her clippers. Sharp, pointed clippers…Yikes…closed eyes…there goes one tail, and another and another til they were all laying neatly in a row on her table… making sure they did not touch the ground.

We measured…14 inches…Wow! I took a couple of pictures as a remembrance. A good deed well done. I bought a large envelope and sent my hair to Locks of Love…What a feeling I had…a feeling that I could walk out in front of a car and would not get hit…no destruction for me…so I thought.

Approximately 3 months later, I received a phone call: Mrs…so and so…you have basal cell carcinoma…in other words---Skin Cancer. How could I??? Another “why me”?

Now it is years later and I still get BCC.

No regrets.

donations please..

the earthquake ceased its rumble. 
as the elephants tromped by.
firefighters tossing jolly ranchers
the crowd of people gaily laughing
children rushing into the street with grabby hands
the air filled with marching band music
bright sparkly little twirlers dazzling with their batons
majestic clydesdales decked out and easily pulling their cart
i shove my brother hard.. LOOK! it's dad!! 
and bringing up the tail end were the Shriners in their little puttputtputt cars.. zooming around with their fez tassles flying. 

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i have always been a selfish person.. the thought of donating my body to science makes my skin crawl.

Donations Please!

The earthquake ceased its rumble.  Jamitra looked up from the rubble that used to be her mother's lean to and searched for her family.   Crying and shrieks filled the streets around her.  The quake had leveled the poorest section of the city, flattening the structures, it had shifted the hilltop homes down off their foundations.  Fires and explosions crackled out sporadically. 

She heard her own sister's cries over the din and started to stumble and crawl to her.  Her mother's leg was outstretched under a beam and blood flowed freely from it.  Her mother was not moving. 

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The control center flared away as the news of the Earthquake came in.  Phones were ringing,  faxes were spitting into the receptacles.    Orders were taken.


Jean dispatched 2 cargo transports to the beleaguered city. Stationed in Miami, the trip to the island was less than an hour.  The crews were on the tarmacs unloading their equipment while after shocks were still shaking the ground.


Refrigerated vans drove out of the planes and headed toward the city.   The collection arm of a large Medical Tissue company was on the move.

Soon their holds would be full and they would return home with their treasures.   Priceless bodies picked up in the confusion of the disaster.