Survivor Spotlight: April Ikard


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I’m going to start with a little on myself. I’m April and I’ve been married to my wonderful husband for 12 years (13 years in July). He was in the Army until he medically retired just short of 12 years. We have 2 little girls who are ages 4 and 7. I just started homeschooling them last year. I was born and raised in Texas, but lived in nearly every state in the South. Somehow we ended up in Alaska. I never knew I liked going camping, hiking, whale watching or sledding until we moved here 3 years ago. We live in a lovely little town that is surrounded by mountains.

I have to go back nearly 6 years to explain how my life changed. May 28th, 2011 I knew something was wrong with me. My husband, my daughter and I planned a trip home to Texas. I searched for the cheapest airline tickets. The cheapest flight I could find would fly out of Jacksonville, FL, have a layover in Charlotte, NC and then continue to Houston, Texas. It was an hour and a half drive to the Jacksonville airport from where we lived at the time, which was Savannah, Georgia. Total travel time from Savannah to our destination north of Houston was about 6 hours. I purchased one way tickets because we would be driving the truck I bought for my husband back to Georgia.

While in Texas I had a great lack of energy. I would drink a Frappuccino and fall asleep. I was even taking diet pills with caffeine. We had time to visit with all of our family and friends. The last few days of our visit we headed up to the Dallas area to relax by the lake with my in-laws. I couldn’t relax. The whole time I was there I couldn’t breathe. I blamed it on allergies since I was in an unfamiliar area. One night I woke up to go to the bathroom and I felt light headed, nauseous, and went into a cold sweat and I just laid down on the bathroom floor. I’ve had similar issues when I was losing weight and I blamed it on blood sugar fluctuations. The next day I was walking up the stairs and I felt like I was going to pass out. I made it to the bed and I just stayed in the bed. At that point my heart was racing and I couldn’t breathe. I blamed it on some weird allergy/asthma attack. I have not been diagnosed with asthma, but I always scored very low on breathing tests and I have a rescue inhaler. I was taking advice and trying to treat it like it was asthma. I took a hot shower and I started coughing and I couldn’t stop. I wanted to go to the emergency room, but we were in the middle of nowhere and it was quite a drive to a hospital. We were leaving for home the next day so I waited. The only time I had ever gone to the ER before was when my chest hurt while pregnant with my daughter. That ended up being heartburn. If I’m not pregnant I never go to the ER. I stayed in the bed until we left for home. We made the terrible decision to drive the whole 1000 miles without staying in a hotel. We drove all night. I don’t even know how many hours in the car that was, maybe 16 hours, or more.

Once we got home I ignored any symptoms I had. I tried walking, swimming, biking. I would always get out of breath. Before moving to Savannah in mid March I was incredibly active. I had just lost 20 pounds and I went on frequent bike rides. My bike rides would be up to 14 miles. I thought I was terribly out of shape because I couldn’t even go a mile without huffing and puffing and stopping to take a breath.

I finally decided to make an appointment with my doctor. He did an EKG because my heart rate was 120 bpm. The oxygen rate in my blood was 98%. He said nothing was wrong with me and it was just the caffeine in the diet pills I was taking, even though I had already been taking them for 6 weeks. He declared it was “caffeine overdose” and I had to wait until it was out of my system. So I spent the next day in the bed. My heart was racing up to 140 bpm and was not slowing down. I couldn’t walk the few feet to my bathroom without my heart rate going even higher and completely running out of breath. I couldn’t even stand up long enough to get dressed so I could go to the store. I called the doctor’s office and the doctor on call said I should go to urgent care or the emergency room. I decided to go to urgent care. I didn’t rush. I sat down and ate my dinner and then my husband drove me down there. The urgent care doctor came out quickly and said my symptoms were so severe and they didn’t have the equipment to treat me. He said I needed to go to the ER. They checked my blood pressure sitting and standing. While standing my heart rate was up to 150 bpm.

I heard the sirens pull up. They had called an ambulance to take me to the hospital. They got me on a stretcher and I will never forget seeing my little girl’s face when she was crying about Mommy being wheeled away. She was only a little over a year and a half at that time. I was taken to the ambulance not knowing what was going on. I’ve had rapid heart rate problems before, but that was only one incident after I had my appendix removed during emergency surgery 10 years prior. I thought maybe they would give me medicine to slow my heart rate. I had been on Propanolol before.

I was in bad shape once I reached the hospital. My heart rate was higher than ever. I could hardly walk to the bathroom. I was in the ER alone. I had left my cell phone behind. I borrowed a nurse’s cell phone and told my husband to take our daughter to the pastor’s house. He had kids our daughter’s age. My husband was able to stay with me for a little while. I had blood work done and the results from that gave them an idea of what the problem was. I was sent to have a chest X-ray, and a CT scan. Once the CT scan came back they knew for sure what was wrong. I had multiple blood clots in both lungs. They were so massive they started going into the right side of my heart. The doctors were baffled and everyone kept saying “you’re so young”. Pulmonary Embolisms were not something they expected a 27 year old woman to have. 1 in 3 people will die from a Pulmonary Embolism. When one doctor said I could have died I just burst into tears. It truly hit me. I didn’t know how to deal with that. After several hours in the ER I was taken to a room sometime in the middle of the night. I was in a step up from ICU while they determined if I needed a “clot buster”. That is where they go in and break up the clots. The main Pulmonologist wanted to avoid that because he said I could have a stroke as a side effect.

They had me on a constant Heparin drip through my I.V. I was not allowed to get out of bed for days. I had migraines and I developed a painful cough while I was there. I was given morphine for pain and a breathing treatment to calm my cough. I was in the hospital from a Saturday until a Tuesday. They did an ultrasound on my legs the day I was released to make sure there were not any DVT’s. I had no sign of clotting in my legs. They are unsure where the clots originated. They think it was a combination of MTHFR, plus hormonal birth control, plus the long trip.

Once released from the hospital it was a long, slow, frustrating recovery. I had to take it day by day. I had to use the motorized cart at Walmart for a while since I would still get out of breath just walking. Even standing up to put a half gallon of milk in my cart would knock the wind out of me. My Mom had flown in immediately and stayed for a little while, and then my husband’s grandparents drove from Texas and stayed. I needed all the help I could get. I couldn’t do the dishes, or laundry, or anything I normally did on a regular basis. It took at least a month to start returning to my daily routines. Even then I was only slowly recovering. 3 months later I was beginning to walk again, but I couldn’t walk very far without losing my breath. I would eventually be able to walk 2 miles.

When I write my story I don’t think of myself. I’m thinking of the other survivors out there. I know how they feel. When it first happens you are in shock, you’re terrified, you’re anxious and a lot of times depressed. As you start healing you realize no one understands what you’re going through. It can be incredibly frustrating. I realized I wasn’t alone. We all struggle with different things and we all heal at our own pace. When you look back thank God you survived to breathe another breath, and you lived to celebrate another day.

When thinking about sharing my story I wanted to bring my story up to date. What has happened since 2011? I had my youngest daughter in 2012 and continued on Lovenox even after the pregnancy. I was on twice daily injections for 2 years until I finally discussed with a new Hematologist about Xarelto in 2013. I was scared about it not having an antidote and being new on the market for clotting at the time. I was so bruised up from the Lovenox I was willing to try anything besides Coumadin. I haven’t had a single problem or bad side effect with Xarelto. It’s been confirmed by several Hematologists in several states that I’m on blood thinners for life due to the severity of my clots.

I’ve had a lot of bumps in the road with my health. I was diagnosed with sleep apnea in 2014. It was right before then I had started getting recurrent bronchitis. It’s something I’ve been dealing with every winter. I get out my nebulizer and do at home breathing treatments. I finally saw a Neurologist in 2016 for migraines and constant headaches. I had suffered from them for at least 8 years prior. I’ve had wonderful success with my new medication. Sometimes it feels like a constant battle between insurance, seeing doctors and balancing medications. There’s ups and downs. I don’t let it get me down. In 2 days I’m celebrating the day I got a second chance. The day I got to live again. The day I got to keep breathing. The day I became a survivor.

“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” – Psalm 73:26 NIV

Thanks Lisa. Love you hun!!



Survivor Spotlight: Tanya Schwarz Turner

My story started in January of this year. I went to my primary physician complaining of hip pain that has bothered me on and off over the years.
Sometimes I was treated and sometimes I was not. This particular tine he sent me home with Prednisone and a follow up appointment in 2 weeks. Between the 2nd and 3rd days on the steroid, I started noticing pain in my left thigh with some slight redness. By Day 5, I could barely walk because the pain was so bad. I went to the doctor 5 times in the next 2 weeks complaining about this pain. An ultrasound was ordered on week 2 post steroid and I was told it wasn’t a blood clot but that it was superficial thrombosis. I Googled the term and found out it was in fact a blood clot!  
I didn’t know how serious it was at the time but I was going to find out soon enough. The pain, redness and incredible amount of swelling in the affected leg was almost more than I could bear. I could see the affected vein in my leg getting bigger and more red by the day. I was told to rest and elevate with heat. I listened to what the doctor told me to do. After all he is the professional, right?!
At this point, I had already missed 2 full weeks of work. The following week I went back to work for 2 days even though my leg wasn’t any better. They placed me on light duty for which I was very grateful! The evening of my second day back to work I had fallen just outside my door.  I slipped on the snow.  I struggled hard to get back up because the pain in my leg had become unbearable at that time. I got inside and couldn’t catch my breath, I was able to tell my husband I fell but I couldn’t catch my breath. I started to feel dizzy and remember telling him I needed to sit down, I never made it to sit. The next thing I remember is waking up on the floor with my husband over me asking if I was ok. I couldn’t get up for 45 minutes, I literally thought I was dying right there on my kitchen floor that night. I was admitted to the hospital with multiple bilateral pulmonary embolisms. I was sent in for a procedure to catheterize both lungs. I was so scared! I was in icu for 2 days, the cardiac unit for 2 days and then a regular room for another 4 days before I was therapeutic enough to go home. I also had a heparin drip the entire stay. While I was in the hospital I formed another clot in my calf.  I was so happy when they told me I could go home. Two weeks later, I was readmitted for another 2 days, new clots in the left lung. I switched primary doctor’s and so far I am happy with my new one. He is scheduling a follow up MRI due to my continued pain and discomfort.  I also made appointments with pulmonary and hematology this month. I’m looking forward to some real answers.

Survivor Spotlight: Cordellia Amethyste Rose

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May name is Cordellia Amethyste Rose.

On September of 2013, I remember being extremely tired and hearing a knock on the door. It was my friend, Michael and my apartment manager. They took one look at me and immediately called the hospital. A few days prior, or perhaps more than a few days, for even now the memories are foggy, I’d just had my first surgery to correct GERD. At this point, I had no idea what was going on. I was in a state of complete confusion as I listened to my apartment manager talk to the nurse at my clinic. I vaguely remember getting dressed and getting into a cab with Michael. I remember the lady asking me what I was there for and Michael trying to say something, but she wouldn’t let him; she just kept asking me, but I had no answer. It was like I was in a trance. They couldn’t help me at the first hospital, so they called an ambulance and took me to another hospital. I remember the nurse telling me that he couldn’t get a vein. He then asked me if he could use a vein in one of my feet, so I let him. I remember being in the ER and seeing my surgeon smiling and waving at me. At this point, they knew what was going on obviously, but I didn’t. I was just in a state of horrible confusion. My only symptom over those past few days was only extreme tiredness. People kept asking me over and over if I’d taken Tylenol. They asked me what I’d taken, and I didn’t remember. My brain was in a complete fog. I remembered taking my liquid Oxycodone and I made it a habit of measuring it out meticulously. I remembered having been prescribed some Tylenol, but it wasn’t until a few days later that I remembered not having filled it because it never worked for me. They kept insinuating that I’d overdosed on something, though I swore I hadn’t. I didn’t know much, but I knew I hadn’t tried to kill myself. I didn’t know at that time that Poison Control was on the phone with Michael and already verifying this.
I don’t remember at which point they told me what was going on, but I eventually learned that I was suffering from Acute Liver Failure, and that when Michael had brought me in, I’d been on the brink of death.

Over the next 4 miserable days, they’d run test after test, trying to figure it out. They’d come in 3 times a day to check my levels, as I begged to go home.
In the meantime, I kept complaining of pain in my right calf. I remember them looking at it and shrugging it off. This continued over and over. It wasn’t horrible pain, but it was enough to bother me. After 4 days or so, they finally released me, deeming me cured, back from the brink of death, saved by my friend. As I sat in the wheelchair waiting for my cab, I told the nurse, “my right calf still hurts,” and she replied, “Yeah, we still don’t know why” matter-of-factly. I didn’t take it seriously.
About 10 minutes later, the cab pulled up in front of my apartment building, I paid, and as soon as I reached the building entrance, I suddenly started gasping for air. I felt out of breath, like I’d just run half a mile, and I was obese back then, so that meant something. I made my way upstairs, thinking I should just sit down, and I would be fine. I sat and waited. I kept waiting, just thinking it would get better. I petted my cats and hoped that the gasping would end, but it didn’t. Finally, after 2 full hours, I called my on-call doctor for my clinic, and she told me to go right back to the ER. Deflated at going back after just being released, I called a cab and went back, but I felt foolish as the moment I arrived the gasping stopped. I thought surely it had all been nothing. Time would prove me wrong. They checked me out, and a doctor who was loudly chomping on gum stood with a nurse comparing my calves and trying to see if one looked more swollen. I wished he and his gum would just vanish. Over the next few hours people’s tones would change. Gone would be the garish voices, and in their place would be soothing whispers, as if at any moment I might burst. They wheeled me into a room to scan my legs for clots, and as I asked what was going on, the lady calmly said she’d found some clots in the deep veins…mostly of my right calf, the exact place where I’d been complaining of pain. There were a few in my left leg as well.
Next, they wheeled me into the CT scan, and I was wheeled back to my room without any further knowledge. I just remember that everyone was really quiet until a short, plump, and smiling Indian doctor came into the room to talk to me. She explained to me in a calm and sweet voice that I had a Pulmonary Embolism, which was a clot in my lung as well as Deep Vein Thrombosis, which were clots in my legs. She probably explained a lot more, but most of it eludes me at this day and time.
I remember lying there and asking how serious it was to all the quiet nurses and being told that it’s potentially fatal. I remember having to call Michael to tell him that I’d be in the hospital for a few more days and to watch my cats. Of course, he was obliging. I remember one nurse telling me she also happened to have worked for Poison Control upon my arrival, calling Michael an angel for running around my apartment looking for Tylenol (there WASN’T any), and being peeved that the docs were still accusing me of overdosing after she’d put that in my chart.
After being in the hospital for 4 days, I was stuck in the ICU again, being told I had something potentially fatal, being afraid of getting too upset because they told me it could travel to my brain or elsewhere, being overloaded with information about medications, shots, feeling lonely and overwhelmed to boot. I remember Facebook messenging one of my friends who happens to be a nurse and asking her to explain the medications they were talking about in the middle of the night because she was up. It helped.
I forget how many more days I was in the hospital, but I think it was only a few. I was horrified at the prospect of having to give myself shots. I was one of those people who said, “I could never do that,” but when they tell you that if you don’t, you’ll have to stay in the hospital for another 10 days, you certainly give it a try. It really wasn’t that hard.
I had to take Lovenox shots twice a day until my Warfarin levels were high enough, which took a lot longer than they’d predicted. Fortunately, with my insurance, the shots were inexpensive. I was extremely weak and needed a lot of help for the first month. My lungs felt tight, and I had a lot of pain in my chest. I remember thinking that I’d just ordered a 40-pound box of cat litter to be delivered to a store that was three quarters of a mile away and thinking it may as well have been on the moon. How was I going to get it? How was I going to do anything?
Over the next month, I learned a lot about kindness. After all, my life had already been saved by kind people in my building (Michael lives right upstairs.) My apartment manager sent her husband to get my cat litter and Michael often shopped for me because I could scarcely walk half a block without getting winded. It took about a month for me to be able to shop for myself.
I attended my doctor appointments carefully and asked everyone I could think of what they thought caused my liver failure, as this was still unknown. Nobody knew. Finally, my Gastroenterologist said his best theory, though this could never be proven, was that a blood clot had gone from my leg to my liver, causing the Acute Liver Failure. To this day, that is the only reasonable theory.
It took about 6 months for the clots to dissolve, but I was so freaked out about them that I elected to stay on the drug longer. Over the course of the next year, I went faithfully to get my Warfarin levels tested, pondered, mused, discussed, researched, etc… why they were rarely what they ought to be. I at first was overly cautious about what I ate, attributing my high or low levels to that, but then as time went on, the doctors and nurses and I agreed that unless I’d been experiencing drastic changes (i.e. drinking a gallon of juice one day and having a huge salad the next, then it really wasn’t likely to make a difference. I stopped being so paranoid and just went with the flow. The pain eventually eased over time, though it was Hell for the first few months, and nothing worked, no drug, no ointment, nothing. I just had to suffer and wait it out. I researched excessively whether to get tattoos, but anyone who knows me should know I always get what I want when I’m determined enough, so I got the tattoos, and it was all fine.
Now, it’s been roughly 3.5 years, and everything’s fine. Well, a couple of annoying things transpired: I’m no longer eligible to donate a kidney, and I also had to be removed from the marrow donation registry, both of which aggravate me to this day.
I’ve also had numerous other medical issues, and I even had another surgery to correct GERD, but that’s a whole other story. Life goes on. I’m fine. I’m glad to be alive.


Survivor Spotlight: Jodie King

On January 27, 2010, I’d gone to Convenient Care and was diagnosed with bronchitis. I thought it was odd that I didn’t have typical symptoms as in times past, but I accepted what the doctor told me and started taking the medicine.
The following Sunday, January 31st, I arrived at church and noticed I was “winded” walking into the building. During the service, I also was aware that I didn’t have enough breath to stand or sing. As I sat there, the more uneasy I felt. As women, we hear medical experts talk about women presenting with heart issues that are different from men. My mom is a nurse and I knew probably too much about what “could” be wrong with me, adding to my sense of unease. I sat there wondering what “it” was, but knowing something definitely wasn’t right.
After church, I went back to the same convenient care facility I’d been to earlier in the week for what I thought was a respiratory infection(bronchitis). All I could tell them was that something wasn’t right. I explained that I’d had it burned into my brain about women and heart symptoms and that was really what had me worried. The doctor reluctantly sent me across the hall for an EKG. During the procedure, the technician said, “Uhhhh, I am going get the doctor, I’ll be right back!” I knew that was bad. The doctor came back in and told me that I was in A-fib and not only was I going straight to the hospital, but he had called an ambulance to get me there. WHAT?!?!? How did I get to “going to the hospital in an ambulance” from “shortness of breath”?!?! I’m pretty sure that was faster than the 1.6 seconds it usually takes my brain to get to “worst case scenario”!
That was the moment in which I felt the most alone I have ever felt in my entire life. My parents were wintering in Florida with plans to leave the next day for Texas to be with her siblings. My daughter was 5 ½ hours away at her freshman year of college with no vehicle on campus. My best friend was in Ohio with her parents. My phone battery was nearly dead…..I called my brother who was celebrating his 49th birthday with his (now) wife and her kids. I quickly explained that I knew and apologized for intruding on their celebration. They assured me they’d make calls and meet me at the ER.
When I arrived in ER, the doctor told me immediately I was not in A-fib. He said “something was definitely wrong”, but it wasn’t A-fib. I was swept off for a chest x-ray and CT scan. I still had no clue what “it” was. When I returned to the ER, both my brothers were there. (Looking back on it, both of my brothers’ wives were there too My ER nurse became my younger brother’s bride in May, 2012)
The doctor came back in and gave me the diagnosis. Multiple pulmonary embolisms in both lungs (saddle clots). I remember my reaction, “Holy cow….this is not good!” and my sister-in-law telling me, “Just stay calm….” I guess she wasn’t sure what I was going to say or do next. I spent five days in ICU before I was released.
The testimony of God is TRULY in the untold details. Bilateral PE’s carries a high mortality rate. I look back now and I believe it was God’s leading that made me think it was heart related, as that is what it took (even erroneously) to get me to the hospital-and in an ambulance. As I said, my ER nurse was reluctantly introduced to my brother and they have been together ever since. I’d been dealing with some personal emotional junk that He had a solution for right around the corner. It was as if He was telling me definitively that ALL THINGS DO work together for good and this was the exclamation point on that.
So as I celebrate another year of life, I thank the Lord for not only new life, but all the other blessings that came from that day!
*** History of what led up to the PE*** I believe my situation was a perfect storm of events. I’d been out of town on business the week prior to my PE’s. On the eight-hour trip home, I only stopped twice (I no longer do that!) and I was taking oral contraceptives, at that time. My mom also have a DVT in 1976, so I had a family history. I was on blood thinners for about 9 months after my PE’s and have been fine, since. I am consciously aware of what “could” happen again, but I do not let fear control me. I take proper precautions when traveling and pay close attention to any warning signs.




Someone ask me ” Why would you want to leave Boulder and go to S. Carolina? Why not move back to Texas where you came from?  So, I decided I would write a blog about it and explain our reasons.  Not just my reasons but “our” reasons.   We are a team and make our decisions together.  

Here goes:

Living in Boulder is like living in a third world country! They are so backwards here.  They are not updated on music, movies,  internet connection, clothes, cars, hairstyles, etc. ..So strange.  Sometimes I feel as if I have traveled through a time warp…

Prices are high around here.  When I say high, I mean high.  Groceries, rent, car payments, energy, trash….overall living expenses..insane!  My husband has a incredible job that pays nicely but you wouldn’t know it .  After he gets gone.  We can’t save, we can’t go on nice family vacations, we can’t go out to eat once in a while as a family,  etc… So sad.

Drugs all around….everywhere!  We choice our children in a another city due to the drugs being so bad here.   I know we can’t shelter them from all drugs…but wow!  Insane what is normal around here.   I come from a very conservative state …so to say I’m thinking correctly!

No diversity! children were stunned and weirded out when they saw their first African American.   You know how that made me feel?! Denver is diverse..not Boulder.

No family here.   We miss family.  We want our children to grow up around family .  Jamie doesn’t like Texas SO that plus some other things is why we both have decided not to move back there.   We decided on S Carolina because my sis painted all of the positives for me.   She has missed us so much and with my parents there too… It was a great choice.   We will get the mountains and the beach.   I don’t get my Meghan or my sister though.. which saddens me but they are supporting us in our decision because they know being with my parents in their later years… means alot♡♡♡♡

Cliquish! Everyone here is very cliquish. If you’re not rich, trust-fund kid or part of the In Crowd… They don’t have time for you. If you don’t ride a bike, jog, walk, run, hike,part of a health club or something… you get snubbed!

If your overweight…prepare for rudeness or just plain get ignormed.

It’s all about me attitudes.   If  I was stranded…a true Boulderite would NOT help you unless he/she was getting something in return.   Transplants, like we are,would come more to helping you than anyone who is a true Boulderite. 

Small business competition especially in the brewery business is insane in this small little town! If you don’t come out of the door running and what I mean by that is with all of your big equipment, your Tap Room looking like a million dollars.. There really is no hope for you here. When we started we thought that we could quite possibly make it here because at the time there were only three breweries opened and then ours made four.  After we opened one by one Breweries started to open to see if they could get a piece of the pie. Which made the hill we had to climb much steeper. We were holding our own and we were doing well but when the demands became much higher and we needed to bring on more investors… we were told no. This hurt us more than you realize. It was from that moment on that slowly but surely we started to decline. It was declining because we couldn’t get enough money together to build our systems larger to meet the demands that we had. People loved our beer and liquor stores from all around we’re ordering from us and we were running out.  We couldn’t keep up with all of them. We did BUT barely and it was hard grueling work. I’m proud of my husband because he had a dream and unlike most people he went out there and made his dream a reality. He worked hard, he gave up watching his children grow for which he regrets and promises to never do that again because the moments he lost out on he can NEVER get back ever. What’s important to him now is spending as much time with his girls and me as he can. He’s had a huge change of heart in a lot of areas and I’m sure it’s just with us getting older and with the turn of events in my health has opened up his eyes and mind a lot. It has put a lot of things in perspective for us. What was important to us? It was family. It was spending time together. It was going on vacations and making memories,  finding a beautiful forever home that we can call ours finally and to live the rest of our days happy together. It will also give the children a chance to get to know their aunt and uncle. It also will give them a chance and us a chance to help in any way we can with my parents and help make what’s left in their lives the best it can be surrounded by love from all of us♡

I want to make one note before I end that please don’t get me wrong… I don’t want to say that everyone in Boulder are crazy backwards pot-smoking hippies. There are some really good people here but they’re very hard to find and since living here I have only made a few friends and those have been people out of Boulder which is sad. I guarantee on the day that we leave people in our cul-de-sac wikk be watching is pa k up watches pack up…. all the sudden they’ll be our friends for just a little but just to get the scoop on where we’re going and what’s happening with us! Yep! and I guarantee that will happen.

I will miss the Rocky Mountains …seeing them from my windows, open spaces, dog friendly places, etc….I will forever have it etched in my mind.

Thanks for reading♡