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    <title>Closet Karma by Kara Kurcz</title>
    
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    <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:weblog-1448382</id>
    <updated>2011-03-25T10:09:09-07:00</updated>
    <subtitle>The light inside all of us burns bright even on the darkest of nights. You just have to remember to open the doors and that's what KK's Closet is for! Welcome.</subtitle>
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        <title>DRESSING UP FOR THE "C" WORD</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~3/LUSKVBEkGk0/the-days-to-come-felt-like-months-as-i-prepared-for-out-war-on-cancer-i-found-brian-the-best-doctors-and-ultimatly-the-best.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/2011/03/the-days-to-come-felt-like-months-as-i-prepared-for-out-war-on-cancer-i-found-brian-the-best-doctors-and-ultimatly-the-best.html" thr:count="8" thr:updated="2011-10-28T00:21:19-07:00" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00e54ef06db988330147e3440318970b</id>
        <published>2011-03-25T10:09:09-07:00</published>
        <updated>2011-03-25T10:24:14-07:00</updated>
        <summary>The days to come felt like months as I prepared for our war on cancer. I found Brian the best doctors and the best surgeon. I spent hours preparing and growing food for him to eat. I obsessed over his...</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Closet Karma</name>
        </author>
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/"><div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p>The days to come felt like months as I prepared for our war on cancer.  I found Brian the best doctors and the best surgeon.  I spent hours preparing and growing food for him to eat. I obsessed over his schedule, vitamins, and meditations. I made sure he was in bed every night at 10pm and woke up every morning to sunshine and a day full of hope.  It was definitely working because he looked stronger everyday.</p>
<p>As I sent Brian off to his last day of work before his surgery, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I had spent my career telling women how to let their light shine even when they felt dark yet I had broken all of my golden rules. Every morning I avoided my closet, mirrors, and makeup.</p>
<p><em><strong>I had no idea how to dress for cancer and I certainly wasn't ready to accept that I needed to.</strong></em></p>
<p><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db98833014e86f5e4f3970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Picture 16" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db98833014e86f5e4f3970d" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db98833014e86f5e4f3970d-500wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Picture 16" /></a> <br /> <br /> <br />I was surrounded by vibrant and amazing food but I rarely ate.  I had not taken a vitamin, seen a gym, or good night sleep in weeks. Meditation, like defeat, was not an option. I could not risk looking at the reality of what was going on if we were to survive.</p>
<p>At night, I was tormented by the quiet. My mind saw it as an opportunity to scream, "Stop ignoring me!"</p>
<p>I found myself just lying awake watching him sleep. The snoar that once infuriated me now drowned out my thoughts and brought me peace. I was trapped in the lyrics of a Sarah McCaughlin song, constantly praying, 'he'd be strong tomorrow and we'd see another day.' </p>
<p>While I was secretly wallowing in the darkness of "what" had happened, I completly ignored the signs on "why" it had happened because I was blinded by one phrase--"Brian must survive."  In my ignorance, I failed to see he was doing better than surviving...he was actually thriving. I was actually the one barely holding on.</p>
<p>Brian was shedding his old life with no regrets and no turning back. Whether it be an old job, an old habit or an old friend... if God said let it go, Brian let it go. Piece by piece I watched every negative experience fall from him and shatter into a million pieces. </p>
<p>Afraid of what letting go meant, I was scurrying behind him with glue and a dust pan. I was desperate to put the puzzle back together and fix the past.  He, on the other hand, left the broom for its rightful owner and said, "You clean it up!"  He was surrounding himself with love, light and hope. I was holding on to yesterday and afraid of tomorrow. I was not embracing the journey.</p>
<p>I once interviewed a man who had lost his wife to cancer. His hallways were wall-papered with memories of his former "whole" family. When he looked at them he smiled and saw a celebration of what they had accomplished. When I looked, I saw 'ghosts' of the past and it broke my heart into a million pieces. I was stuck on the question, "Why them?"</p>
<p>There was an undescribable feeling of calm in the room as he shared his journey through cancer. He said, "Cancer in a moment's notice will turn your life upside down, but it is up to you to see it for what it is--a gift." At his wife's request, he left his coporate job and <a href="http://www.jajf.org/" target="_blank">started a foundation to help families with young kids deal with losing a parent to cancer</a>. It was something he knew a tremendous amount about since he himself had young children who were facing the death of their mother.</p>
<p>He said, "I hate why I am doing this, but I love what I do."  I asked him a single question after hearing his story, "What advice do you give people who want to give up in all aspects of their life?" His answer would end up being the most imporpant piece of advice I had ever received in my life. He said, "It is harder to give up, and there are many, many ways you can choose to give up on life. When you give up on hope or give in to tragedy it is a terrible way to live.  It is easier to move forward. As corny as it sounds, there is an opportunity just around the corner."</p>
<p>As I sat staring in the mirror I realized I armed Brian with all the ammunition he needed to fight cancer. He put on his armor, walked onto the battle field, faced his enemy and said, "Thank you for the gift."</p>
<p>I wasn't ready to accept cancer. I was digging through the garbage looking for a gift receipt.</p>
<p>I thought, "Couldn't I just exchange this present for one that fits me better? " </p>
<p>I realized this was about to be the first 'no return's' policy I ever followed. While I was not ready to say, <br />"Thank you", I was done with my cancer uniform of a sweat suit and a dirt ponytail. If I could't figure out how to dress for colon cancer I decided I would stick with what I knew... 'dress for a date with Brian.'  I pulled out my sexy signature black knee-high boots he loved. I built 5 outfits for myself, one for each day he would be in the hospital. I packed a few necklaces and laughed. At least I'd be the best dress on the hospital floor.</p>
<p> If we pay attention we are given chances to face our fears everyday. However, accepting the opportunity can be more frightening than the 'fear' itself. We have to trust there is a big beautiful present waiting to be unwrapped... and it has everyone's name on it</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em>Eventually I figured out a way to dress for Cancer</em></strong></p>
<p>  <a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db98833014e86f5f3c3970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Kara-Brian-blog" border="0" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db98833014e86f5f3c3970d image-full" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db98833014e86f5f3c3970d-800wi" title="Kara-Brian-blog" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size: 8pt;"><em> </em></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size: 8pt;"><em>Blog edited by Josette Perrone</em></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size: 8pt;"><em><a href="http://jackynoel.wordpress.com/" target="_blank" title="Jacky Noel Photography">Photo courtesy of Jacky Noel Photography</a><br /></em></span></p><xhtml:img xmlns:xhtml="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~4/LUSKVBEkGk0" height="1" width="1" /></div></content>


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    <entry>
        <title>WHEN THE "C" WORD INVADES YOUR CLOSET: PART 7 'LIFE IN THE FAST LANE'</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~3/Mlk0aQeA4VY/dr-fancy-slid-into-the-exam-room-like-kramer-from-seinfeld-with-a-smile-and-a-handshakeexcept-he-was-wearing-a-turbin-and.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/2011/02/dr-fancy-slid-into-the-exam-room-like-kramer-from-seinfeld-with-a-smile-and-a-handshakeexcept-he-was-wearing-a-turbin-and.html" thr:count="1" thr:updated="2011-02-15T19:05:51-08:00" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00e54ef06db988330148c858f8ff970c</id>
        <published>2011-02-11T08:34:36-08:00</published>
        <updated>2011-02-12T12:30:34-08:00</updated>
        <summary>"Dr. Fancy" slid into the exam room like Kramer from Seinfeld with a smile and a handshake. (Except he was wearing a turban and is a Sikh) "Hello Kara! How are you?" he said as he stroked his long, gray...</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Closet Karma</name>
        </author>
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/"><div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p> "Dr. Fancy" slid into the exam room like Kramer from Seinfeld with a smile and a handshake.</p>
<p>(Except he was wearing a turban and is a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sikhism" target="_blank">Sikh</a>)</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>"Hello Kara!  How are you?" he said as he stroked his long, gray beard."</em></p>
<p><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db98833014e5f27e2e9970c-pi"><img alt="Sikh" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db98833014e5f27e2e9970c" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db98833014e5f27e2e9970c-320wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Sikh" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I am O.K.  I would like you to meet my husband Brian", I replied.</p>
<p>"Dr. Fancy's" eyes lit up with excitement, "Oh, it is so nice to see the other half!  Look -- you both share the same amazing warm smile.  Welcome Brian, what brings you here?"</p>
<p>Shocked, I blurted out , "Brian has just been diagnosed with Colon Cancer.  They think it may be Stage 3.  I have him on this diet.  He looks better.  I think it is working.  We don't want to do chemo... we really don't want to do chemo, it's poison.  They said the tumor is the size of an orange."</p>
<p>"Dr. Fancy's" smile faded.  I had assumed he, like the nurses who whispered behind our back, knew it was us with "The Cancer".  I was wrong.  He grabbed my hand and said, "Deep breath, sit down and tell me what you know."</p>
<p>I opened my little red notebook and started to ramble names of doctors and terms like adenocarcinomas, mucinous, and Stages 2C- 3, he nodded.  I continued to tell him our fears and how we hated the way the news was delivered to us.  I told him how the CT scan indicated the liver and vital organs seemed clear.  I told him how Brian, in just 10 days, looked better than he did the day of the diagnosis.  Then I told him how the gastroenterologist had suggested that we just get the surgery done by New Years.  Suddenly, he snapped out of his zen state. "NO, we need to get it out and get it out NOW.  If it has not spread to any vital organs and it's that large, we are lucky. I want it out -- <em>next week</em>."</p>
<p>My jaw dropped, "Next week?!  It is Thanksgiving.  We were hoping to have more..." I stuttered, "More time to get him healthy and shrink the tumor through diet and meditation."  "Dr. Fancy" looked at me sternly, "Get it out!  Get it out!  Get it out!  Listen, I supported Suzanne Somers when she opted not to do chemo, and I will support you guys on this journey.  I too believe in diet and integrative medicine.   Continue to do what you are doing BUT he has a tumor the size of an orange in him.  That is NOT small. I want that thing out and together we will get his body strong for surgery.  The rest we will deal with after surgery."</p>
<p>I held my tears back.  I knew it had to happen.  It was inevitable.  I couldn't picture my husband, with his sweet smile, being sliced opened.  I was now face to face with all the What Ifs?</p>
<p>-What if we can't beat this?</p>
<p>-What if we were wrong and he isn't getting better?</p>
<p>-What if he didn't come out of surgery?</p>
<p>-What if we never get to live the life I had so taken for granted together?</p>
<p>"Dr. Fancy" looked at Brian and said, "You're lucky you have her, she is going to take care of this."  He winked at me, "You guys are going to pick a surgeon and be back in my office ASAP with your decision."</p>
<p>Suddenly, the tears snapped back inside me.  I looked at Brian, "I told you I am going to produce the shit out of this."</p>
<p>Brian chuckled.  I got to see that amazing smile once again.</p>
<p>The doctor continued to speak to Brian about his recommendations for a second opinion.  My mind drifted to another place... I was thinking about the phone calls Brian was unaware of... the calls when I completely fell apart and looked for strength.  My sisters had silently created a system with me.</p>
<p>In front of Brian, my job was to be normal.  I was to Executive Produce our lives.  I laid out what he needed to eat, where he needed to be and what he needed to do.  Most of our friends only saw this persona as well.  We were all scared.  I needed to make everyone feel like this was a slam dunk.  If we were going to beat this, that was the only way.</p>
<p>The minute Brian walked out the door everyday, I hit speed dial to my three sisters. Whomever picked up first I would sob to.  All three were supportive.  All three gave me a gift.  All three got me through the next day.</p>
<p><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db98833014e5f255de7970c-pi"> </a>One sister, like an emotional sponge would encourage me to release my darkest thoughts, my fears and my anger.  She listened without judgement.  After our conversations, I felt an incredible weight lifted from me.  Another was a mighty rock I could lean on.  She helped me keep focus, she reminded me of my strengths and dismissed the idea of me even possessing weakness.  After our conversations, I was ready to take on any doctor, nurse or naysayer that stood in my way.  Yet another reminded me that cancer could not take "who I was" away from me.  She not only made me laugh but she allowed me to make jokes.  She gave me the sense of normalcy I was craving.  After our conversations, I knew I could kick the s*@t out of cancer.</p>
<p>My thoughts of how I loved my sisters was sadly interrupted.  Again, I went to a dark place ... what if WE never get to have a wonderful family of our own??</p>
<p>I left "Dr. Fancy's" office armed with a list of names and numbers.  In five business days, we needed to meet with 5 different doctors, learn as much as we could about this disease and make a decision.  In between meetings, I needed to keep up his diet, keep up his spirits and keep up his hope.  It wasn't going to be easy -- but for 10 years, my job had required me to talk my way out of situations in foreign languages, talk myself into places in several countries,  and produce a mountain where there was a lake. I had always delivered given the task at hand...</p>
<p>When we got home, Brian headed to work and instead of crying, I turned to our dog Georgia and said, "You ready to do this?"</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em><strong>Once again she just stared at me blankly.</strong></em></p>
<p><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e2830549970b-pi"><img alt="Georgia3" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330147e2830549970b" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e2830549970b-500wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Georgia3" /></a> <br /> <br /><br /></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size: 8pt;"><em><br /></em></span></p>
<p> </p><xhtml:img xmlns:xhtml="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~4/Mlk0aQeA4VY" height="1" width="1" /></div></content>


    <feedburner:origLink>http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/2011/02/dr-fancy-slid-into-the-exam-room-like-kramer-from-seinfeld-with-a-smile-and-a-handshakeexcept-he-was-wearing-a-turbin-and.html</feedburner:origLink></entry>
    <entry>
        <title>"WHEN THE 'C' WORD INVADES YOUR CLOSET PART 6.5 "LEARNING TO LAUGH A LITTLE"</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~3/HbfReOFNFKE/laughter-and-anticipation.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/2011/01/laughter-and-anticipation.html" thr:count="0" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00e54ef06db988330147e20ce17c970b</id>
        <published>2011-01-27T21:40:31-08:00</published>
        <updated>2011-01-27T22:54:54-08:00</updated>
        <summary>As we walked into the white, pristine Beverly Hills office I found myself wishing we were invisible. I used to be so anonymous that the receptionist, the nurse, and the aid barely greeted me. But today they all knew who...</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Closet Karma</name>
        </author>
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/"><div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p>As we walked into the white, pristine Beverly Hills office I found myself wishing we were invisible. I used to be so anonymous that the receptionist, the nurse, and the aid barely greeted me.</p>
<p>But today they all knew who I was. I was representing the "star", the new patient with Colon Cancer at 35. The doctor’s office is one of the few places in my life I would not like to be known as "famous". As they called Brian’s name, I felt like I was escorting a Best Actor nominee down the red carpet. I could feel their eyes burning a hole in my back. One nurse even whispered, “Awe, he’s too cute to have cancer.”</p>
<p>The bitch in me again wanted to turn around and scream, “Cancer clearly doesn’t discriminate and P.S. he’s taken!” Instead, like a good PR escort, I kept my head down and walked him down the hallway. In my heart I knew they were just in shock like us but still I longed to once again be anonymous.</p>
<p>Brian sat calmly on the bed while I paced on my Blackberry. I wanted to get three surgeons' opinions. I had the names of two recommendations so far. I also needed to find a new Gastroenterologist because we were not revisiting “Dr. No Heart." Crap, do we need to see an Oncologist too? I forgot about that. I kept texting furiously, mumbling to myself as I pulled every string I could think of.</p>
<p>“I should call Dr. Phil!”</p>
<p>“I need to get Katie Couric herself on the phone!”</p>
<p>“Wait, didn’t Sharon Osborne have colon cancer? I bet she’d be bff with me. “</p>
<p>Brian interrupted my rambling. He was giggling to himself.  “Look” he said, “I finally get to go to the fancy doctor like you.” I glanced up to catch him doing a little jig. Finally, my PR-like persona was broken and I laughed. The chatter in my head stopped for a moment. I allowed myself to enjoy his smile. In a split second his face could turn from a 35 year-old robust man to 5 year-old giddy boy.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em>I soo love his smile.</em></strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em> <a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e20cd661970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Briansmile" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330147e20cd661970b" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e20cd661970b-500wi" title="Briansmile" /></a> <br /><br /></em></strong></p>
<p>Brian was excited like a kid in a candy store, taking in all the gadget and gismos the doctor had in his office. </p>
<p>I had been terribly sick years ago. After many visits with many specialists I was finally referred to “Dr Fancy” by a friend’s wife. He changed my life. I knew he was the only doctor in LA who had a chance of supporting my theory that Brian’s diet could help him beat cancer. "Dr. Fancy" integrates <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phytotherapeutic" target="_blank">phytotherapeutics</a>, homeopathy, acupuncture and environmental medicine with traditional internal medicine. He believes in whole body healing, and if he told us my theory was crazy I would be crushed.  </p>
<p>I knew an answer like that would ultimately lead us to the world of chemo. It's a world I have visited with many people I have loved in the past. It's a place I never wanted to visit again. As my anxiety rose, the door opened...</p>
<p> To be continued next Tuesday check back...</p>
<p><span style="font-size: 8pt;"><em> Edited by: Josie Perrone</em></span></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p><xhtml:img xmlns:xhtml="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~4/HbfReOFNFKE" height="1" width="1" /></div></content>


    <feedburner:origLink>http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/2011/01/laughter-and-anticipation.html</feedburner:origLink></entry>
    <entry>
        <title>WHEN THE "C" WORD INVADES YOUR CLOSET PART 6: "FOOTBALL, FRIENDS &amp; FACEBOOK"</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~3/4kiTt6qAlsc/it-was-a-saturday-morning-and-usually-whoever-woke-up-first-aka-brian-would-jump-up-and-down-on-the-bed-yelling-get-up.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/2011/01/it-was-a-saturday-morning-and-usually-whoever-woke-up-first-aka-brian-would-jump-up-and-down-on-the-bed-yelling-get-up.html" thr:count="1" thr:updated="2011-01-21T07:31:46-08:00" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00e54ef06db988330147e1cb980f970b</id>
        <published>2011-01-20T22:53:24-08:00</published>
        <updated>2011-02-12T12:30:04-08:00</updated>
        <summary>It was a Saturday morning and usually whoever woke up first, (AKA Brian), would jump up and down on the bed yelling, "Get up! Get up! The game is almost on!" The best part about living on the West Coast?...</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Closet Karma</name>
        </author>
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/"><div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p> </p>
<p>It was a Saturday morning and usually whoever woke up first, (AKA Brian), would jump up and down on the bed yelling, "Get up!  Get up!  The game is almost on!"</p>
<p>The best part about living on the West Coast?  No matter what time you wake up- there's always a college football game about to start.</p>
<p>However, this Saturday I woke up first and there was silence.</p>
<p>Finally, Brian rolled over and said, "I guess you should cancel our brunch plans for tomorrow."</p>
<p>Then he rolled back over in the bed.</p>
<p>My heart sank.  I knew Brian had been excited for weeks to see his friend and their family.</p>
<p>I held my breath -- for the first time, in a long time, I didn't know what to say.</p>
<p>It had been days since we received the news and Brian had not told anyone.  There was a very selfish part of me that felt burdened by this.  I wanted to run down the street screaming, "HEY!  GUESS WHAT?!  LIFE SUCKS!  I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS!"</p>
<p>Brian and I are very different people.  I am the "event planner".  I hold weekly girl gabbing sessions in my backyard.  I have friends I work with.  I have friends I work out with.  Friends I talk about God with. Friends I like to shop with.  If you move away?  No worries!  That's what phones are for.  In fact, one of my BFs is my neighbor- which was no accident.  I helped her find the house.  The 45 minute commute and phone bill were getting to be too much for the both of us.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em>I also make her Irish on St. Patty's day</em></strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e1cc1e57970b-pi"><img alt="24790_374473399565_615834565_3497242_4940177_n" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330147e1cc1e57970b" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e1cc1e57970b-500wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="24790_374473399565_615834565_3497242_4940177_n" /></a> <br /> However, Brian is NOT a planner.  He'd rather attend the party, not run it.  I have one friend I have known since I was 12, Brian has several.  His friendships run deep and long.  While on the surface he seems quiet and reserved, he's not.  He is funny and VERY chatty.  He is just selective  with his thoughts and sharing them.  He may not see his friends everyday but he loves them.</p>
<p>I knew he was holding back because he did not want to burden anyone.  But it wasn't my place to tell him what to do.  (This was a moment of ENLIGHTENMENT- since it was probably the first time in our marriage I felt that way.)</p>
<p>I broke the silence, "Of course I can cancel.  You want me to make up something?  I'll say whatever you want."</p>
<p>He looked up at me, "We should probably tell them, right? Is that OK?  Do you think it is OK to tell them and could you do it?"</p>
<p>I gazed into his eyes, I knew he felt helpless too.</p>
<p>"Brian, I think if you want to tell your friends, it is not only OK but they will be there to help you and cheer you on.  There is no right or wrong."</p>
<p>"Ok...call them," he said.</p>
<p>My hand was trembling as I dialed the number.  I kept thinking, "Please don't cry".  They weren't home so I left a message to call me.</p>
<p>Twenty minutes later, our phone rang.  Brian watched as I answered...</p>
<p>Suddenly, a wave of calmness overcame me.  I was hopeful, but direct.  I could hear tears welling up in his friend's eyes as he asked questions, but Brian was still watching me...so I presented the facts and explained that we're going to "kick the shit out of cancer".</p>
<p>As I hung up the phone, Brian smiled.  Then he told me who else he would like me to call.</p>
<p>By 7pm, Brian had friends by his side.  In fact, he was never alone again.  He had a friend who would bring him video games.  A friend who would watch football with him.  A friend who would invite him to church.  A friend who would watch movies with him.  And a friend who would bitch with him.</p>
<p>As I watched him laughing over video games and the wheat grass growing in our kitchen, I learned something new about my husband and his friends.  Their relationships weren't much different than mine.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em><strong>And yes, the wheat grass is growing in our kitchen.</strong></em>   <a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330148c7d5758f970c-pi"><img alt="Wheatgrass1" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330148c7d5758f970c" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330148c7d5758f970c-500wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Wheatgrass1" /></a></p>
<p>I also learned something new about my husband.  It wasn't that he "didn't" want to tell anyone, he just did not know how.  So I decided I would not just be his patient advocate, but I would be his voice when he didn't have the strength to speak.  In the end, he was the one who needed to do the ass-kicking -- and he needed to save his energy."</p>
<p>As we went to bed that night, he commented how there were so many more people to tell and he was tired.  Finally he joked, "Is there a Facebook status button that says,<em> I have cancer</em>?"</p>
<p>"No", I laughed, "But if you need me to make one, I will."</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em><span style="font-size: 8pt;"><br /></span></em></p><xhtml:img xmlns:xhtml="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~4/4kiTt6qAlsc" height="1" width="1" /></div></content>


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    <entry>
        <title>WORLD WAR "C"</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~3/i3yymTfy2oc/it-was-5am-i-was-wide-awake-i-snuck-out-of-bed-to-brians-office-or-what-would-have-been-brians-office-if-i-had-not-tak.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/2011/01/it-was-5am-i-was-wide-awake-i-snuck-out-of-bed-to-brians-office-or-what-would-have-been-brians-office-if-i-had-not-tak.html" thr:count="1" thr:updated="2011-08-23T20:24:32-07:00" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00e54ef06db988330148c79958f3970c</id>
        <published>2011-01-14T10:22:57-08:00</published>
        <updated>2011-01-18T14:50:53-08:00</updated>
        <summary>"It was 5am. I was wide awake. So I snuck out of bed to Brian's office. Or what would have been Brian's office if I had not taken it over as my dressing room. I dug around the messy book...</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Closet Karma</name>
        </author>
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/"><div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p> </p>
<p>"It was 5am. I was wide awake. So I snuck out of bed to Brian's office.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em>Or what would have been Brian's office if I had not taken it over as my dressing room.</em></strong>     <a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330148c7999984970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Photo-11" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330148c7999984970c" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330148c7999984970c-320wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Photo-11" /></a></p>
<p>I dug around the messy book shelves and found our pseudo wedding album. It wasn't finished. </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em> "Why had I never finished the album? Why wasn't that a priority? Why do I suck?" </em></strong></p>
<p><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e1902a61970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="N1307468958_177492_950" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330147e1902a61970b" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e1902a61970b-500wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="N1307468958_177492_950" /></a></p>
<p>I sat clenching a photo. I started to rock and silently sob. Laying in a fetal position I muffled my scream with my fist, "Why GOD!.  No. No. No. Please! What am I suppose to do?" The carpet felt comforting against my cheek... but still, I felt hopeless and hated it.</p>
<p>I could see out of the corner of my eye through the master-bathroom window, dawn was finally about to break.  Since I was a kid, I hated the dark. The sunrise always makes the monsters go away.</p>
<p>I stood up and walked to the bathroom. I took a good look at myself in the mirror. I looked super un sexy. I had been wearing the same zippy for 3 days and it was disgusting. I wanted to brush my hair or put on blush but it felt like a waste of energy.</p>
<p>Instead, I started to read labels. After 20 minutes of tearing through shampoos and soaps I was satisfied.  "Now Brian is safe",  I thought.</p>
<p>Later I would find out I was wrong. Once again, there were chemicals lurking in our products without our permission. (BEWARE OF THE WORD FRAGRANCE. I WILL EXPLAIN WHY IN LATER BLOGS)</p>
<p>I walked into the kitchen and looked at my "notebook."  Not since my freshman year in college was a red Mead spiral binder so important to me. This was to be my bible.The final pathology report was due at 9:30am and today began "doctorpalooza".</p>
<p>The path report was actually due back the day before, but when it did not arrive the nurse promised me today would be the day.</p>
<p>Brian woke up around 9am. I handed him a glass of juice. He headed to the shower.  As I listened to the water running my mind fired off scenarios. "Maybe they were wrong and he didn't have cancer? Maybe it wasn't that bad and he was only stage 2a? Maybe he was stage 3b? Or what if..."</p>
<p> As I stared at the "notebook " the reality of the pathology report set in...without it my bible would remain empty.</p>
<p>At 9:33 I dialed the doctor's office. (I had to wait a little so I didn't seem too eager.)</p>
<p>"It's not in yet", the receptionist said. "Try back after 11:30." Frustrated, I threw the phone and started pacing.</p>
<p>11:30? That wastes a whole 2 hours I could be calling doctors.</p>
<p>At 9:40 Brian dressed,grabbed his lunch and headed to work.</p>
<p>At 9:42 Georgia watched him pull out of the driveway.</p>
<p>At 9:43 I realized he hadn't asked me about the pathology report.</p>
<p>Feeling useless I refocused my energy on wheat grass. Brian needed it and shots at the local health food store were 3.50 every 2oz. I was on hiatus, Brian was about to be forced to quit his job, and we were about to have an avalanche of medical bills. So $3.50 a day was not an option.</p>
<p>The day before I had bought wheat grass at whole foods. i tried running it through our basic juicer. It was the "green massacre" and the result was .05oz of juice and 3 dollars spent buying the grass.</p>
<p>(Hot tip, peeps!  You can <em>not</em> juice wheat grass through a normal juicer -- you need a wheat grass juicer!)</p>
<p>So becoming my own Jamba Juice was the only option.  When I found, <a href="http://www.wheatgrasskits.com/" target="_blank">http://www.wheatgrasskits.com/.  </a>I got a surge of energy! I could start growing my own grass, get a real hand-crank wheat grass juicer and  a sprouter for 200.00.</p>
<p>I also knew I needed to start sprouting Brian's garbanzo beans, sunflower seeds and alfalfa sprouts myself if I wanted to save money. (Sprouted beans,grains and seeds are easier to digest and have beneficial enzymes in them.) However, they are super expensive if you do not grow them yourself.</p>
<p>After doing the math, I realized the shots would now costs us 0.69 instead of $3.00.  Done deal. BAM! I was in control again.</p>
<p>When I finished entering my credit card, the computer clock read 11:35.</p>
<p>I picked up the phone and dialed once again. The apathetic receptionist answered. "Oh ya, it came in at 11am."</p>
<p>I replied, "Great! We are on our way!" She paused, "Well... you see the doctor is gone today. So you will have to see him tomorrow."  As my heart sunk I felt a burning sensation in my face. "Deep breath", I told myself, "Kill them with kindness."  I replied, "I am so sorry, there must have been some sort of confusion. YOU told me TODAY we could come in and get the results." She snickered apologetically, "Um ya you can't and we can't call the doctor, like I said he's out."</p>
<p>I then in a not-so- "zen" tone explained our rights to ALL medical records by law. I also explained if the doctor wanted to call us we were open to speaking to him but we were not waiting. She replied, "He likes to tell patients in person." I replied, "Tell them what? That they have CANCER?! Well, NEWS FLASH: Dr. 'All-Heart' let some stranger tell us that at the CT scan 4 days ago!  So I am on my way for the records."</p>
<p>Ten minutes later, the doctor called Brian and delivered the news in a somber voice... "Brian you have cancer and 3 lymph nodes seem to be infected."  Even Brian giggled and said, "Duh!"</p>
<p>Finally, the war could officially begin ... but we realized now we had to tell our family and friends.</p>
<p>We needed an army -- to fight World War C.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p><xhtml:img xmlns:xhtml="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~4/i3yymTfy2oc" height="1" width="1" /></div></content>


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    <entry>
        <title>WHEN THE "C" WORD INVADES YOUR CLOSET PART 4 'PJ's, PRODUCE AND POISONS'</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~3/cCFYW4vIFjg/the-sun-peeked-through-the-blinds-it-was-730am-november-5th-and-for-a-moment-i-thought-what-a-bad-dream-that-was-but-as.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/2011/01/the-sun-peeked-through-the-blinds-it-was-730am-november-5th-and-for-a-moment-i-thought-what-a-bad-dream-that-was-but-as.html" thr:count="3" thr:updated="2011-01-13T10:00:48-08:00" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00e54ef06db988330148c75658e2970c</id>
        <published>2011-01-06T22:23:02-08:00</published>
        <updated>2011-01-06T23:37:51-08:00</updated>
        <summary>It was 7:30 a.m. and the sun was peeking through our bedroom blinds. For a second I thought, "It was all a bad dream", but as I rubbed my eyes into focus, reality was the first thing I saw...Brian's CT...</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Closet Karma</name>
        </author>
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/"><div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p>It was 7:30 a.m. and the sun was peeking through our bedroom blinds.  For a second I thought, "It was all a bad dream", but as I rubbed my eyes into focus, reality was the first thing I saw...Brian's CT scan on the dresser.</p>
<p>My heart sank, it wasn't a nightmare.  I felt a hand on my shoulder.  "Good morning, sweetie."  Brian had just woke up.  I took a deep breath, smiled and turned in reply, "Good morning."</p>
<p>He shuffled into the shower.  I ran into the kitchen. I had stayed up all night researching.  I had no control over cancer.  It had invaded my husband's body without my permission, but my kitchen...my kitchen I could control.</p>
<p>Georgia and I stood in the middle of the floor.  To the average American we "seemed" extremely healthy. Our meats of choice were ground turkey or chicken breast.  The majority of our sauces or canned foods were organic.  If we used sugar it was always raw sugar cane.  Our cleaning products were mostly "green" or at least biodegradable.  What we didn't know was there were things lurking in our food and products...just like cancer without our permission.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.non-gmoreport.com/articles/mar06/non_organic.php" target="_blank"><strong><em>I dumped everything in our cabinets on the floor.  Vitamins, protein mixes, canned tomatoes sauce...</em></strong></a></p>
<p><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e1571af0970b-pi"><img alt="Groceryonfloor" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330147e1571af0970b" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e1571af0970b-500wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Groceryonfloor" /></a></p>
<p>I had always been a label reader because I have allergies, but I was ignorant to the problem of genetical<a href="http://www.newsmaxhealth.com/headline_health/genetically_modified_food/2010/01/15/308880.html" target="_blank">ly engineered foods or GMO</a>.  So when I found words like soy, citric acid, lecithin, natural flavorings, organic flavorings...I tossed it out unless the label said <a href="http://www.newsmaxhealth.com/headline_health/genetically_modified_food/2010/01/15/308880.html" target="_blank">GMO</a> free.</p>
<p>As I pulled out the pasta shelf I held my breath, "Please, please, please be ok.  We spend so much money on organic tomatoe sauce."  I turned the can around and there it was...Citric Acid.  NO!!!!!!!!!!!!  I screamed, "Crap! Not my tomato sauce!"</p>
<p>Completely in denial, I picked up the phone and called the company to see what their citric acid was derived from, and sure enough, an organic product I had paid extra money for was made from GMO corn.</p>
<p>Why didn't it say something on the label?  Like WARNING GMO.  But it wasn't just GMO soy and corn products I was finding...our organic seasonings had fillers in them too. Our vitamins had chemicals.  Brian's organic protein shake?  Well, that was just a HOT MESS!</p>
<p>It turns out in the last few years the laws have changed for organic products.  Unless it says 100% organic it may not be 100% organic and pure.  This dupes all of us but still guarantees we will empty our pocket books for so-called organic products.  The result?  I had spent on average $150.00 a week on our groceries and we were poisoning ourselves.</p>
<p>I turned to Georgia and asked, "What the hell are we going to eat??????"</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em>Georgia, by the way, was no help.</em></strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em> <a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330148c760a6ac970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Georgia" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330148c760a6ac970c" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330148c760a6ac970c-500wi" title="Georgia" /></a> <br /></em></strong></p>
<p>Feeling overwhelmed, I decided to leave a pile of possibly suitable products on the floor.  </p>
<p>I closed my eyes and opened the fridge.  I peaked through one eye at the organic dressings...and then reluctantly I threw away 6 bottles.</p>
<p>All I kept hearing was the ding of a cashier register over and over again as I dumped $100's of dollars in the garbage.</p>
<p>Time for the meat and dairy shelf.  Goodbye ground turkey.  Goodbye parmesan cheese.  Goodbye honey mustard.</p>
<p>I dragged two hefty sized trashed bags to the curb and headed to the store, literally, in my pj's.  In fact, I would   spend the next 5 days in my jammies revamping our lives.  (the closet karma for cancer was a week long PJ's session)</p>
<p>Whole Foods used to be my version of a zen garden.  I loved to stroll the colorful aisles looking at all the pretty produce.  Sometimes after a bad day at work I would just go there and sit.  Somehow I felt healthier just standing next to their eggplants.  But today, with my dirty hair and bags under my eyes, I was not "oming" on my drive.  I was cursing like a sailor.  The same store that had just double crossed me was my only choice for healthy food...at least for now ;)</p>
<p>I stormed through the doors that I once just strolled through.</p>
<p>I spent two hours sifting through the aisles.  Suddenly my shopping list felt like the 'In and Out' section of Star Magazine...Rice Milk soooo...out, but Almond Milk soooo...in.  Lisanatti Almond Cheese?  4 stars!  It was 100% free of everything.  Just plain raw almonds at Whole Foods...soooo last month...they did not carry <a href="http://www.organicconsumers.org/Irrad/irradfact.cfm" target="_blank">non-irradiated</a> ones.</p>
<p>(I would later learn you can soak non-irradiated raw almonds to try and remove harmful chemicals they MAY have been exposed too.)</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em>In the end, I had a cart full of cancer fighting foods for Brian.</em></strong></p>
<p><strong><em><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330148c760ac38970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Groceries" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330148c760ac38970c-500wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Groceries" /></a></em></strong></p>
<p>The bummer was the bill...$118.00 and I had just <em>begun</em> to get him what he needed. The sailor in me came out once again. "F#$@!"</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em>Pomi Tomato Sauce was my favorite find.  Its JUST TOMATOES.  I try and make my own marinara but when I am in a pinch this is a great alternative.</em></strong></p>
<p><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330148c760bddd970c-pi"><img alt="Pomi" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330148c760bddd970c-320wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Pomi" /></a></p>
<p>I pulled into my driveway and contemplated how to unload my merchandise. The weeks to follow were not going to be easy.  The majority of our  days would be consumed by doctors appointments and hospital  visits.  My time in the kitchen would be minimal.  I needed to be organized and efficient.</p>
<p>The top shelf was the most important.  Juice, amino acids, wheat grass, probiotics...I created rows for each day of the week.   This way Brian knew what to do if I was not around.  It would also allow me to keep tabs on what he was NOT drinking that he was supposed to. ;)</p>
<p>Second  shelf raw foods. Third shelf juiceable items.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em>I needed to know when we were low  on produce, especially carrots.  (My goal was to turn him orange from  carrots if possible, just like chrisbeatcancer had done.)   <br /> <br />    <a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e15708f0970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Fridge" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330147e15708f0970b" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e15708f0970b-500wi" title="Fridge" /></a> <br /> <br /></em></strong></p>
<p>The  little pull out drawer would be off limits labelled with a "Brian don't touch" sign taped to it.  This mostly consisted of items that I just couldn't throw away without  tremendous guilt...expensive and delectable cheeses and savory sliced meats.</p>
<p>By 7 o'clock I had conquered our kitchen.  I only had the whole house left to deal with...</p>
<p>________________________________________________________________________________________</p>
<p>Brian and I know how overwhelming this information can be so here is the checklist I started with to eliminate GMO foods from our life.  You can only do what you can and you can't do it all. We now work with a local farm that delivers our vegetables weekly.  I also grow our own wheat grass and sprout many of our seeds. (It is cost effecient and easy but I will tell you more about that in later blogs.)  We also are big fans of talking to your local farmers' market.  It is a great place to ask questions and find answers.  Also, sadly, when choosing a farm BEWARE and don't be duped.  Think about how long your produce lasts in your home?  If you are ordering from a farm that is trucking your fruits and veggies cross-country the odds of them being 100% GMO free and organic are rare.</p>
<ol>
<li> 
<ul>
<li><strong>KNOW WHAT FOODS TYPICALLY CONTAIN GMO'S or ARE GE<br /></strong></li>
<li>Soybeans - Gene taken from bacteria (<em>Agrobacterium</em> sp. strain CP4) is inserted into soybeans to make them more resistant to herbicides.</li>
<li>Corn - There are two main varieties of GE corn.  One has a Gene from the lepidoptera pathogen microorganism <em>Bacillus thuringiensis</em> inserted to produce the Bt toxin, which poisons insect pests .There are also several events which are resistant to various herbicide. </li>
<li>Rapeseed/Canola - Gene added/transferred to make crop more resistant to herbicide.</li>
<li>Sugar beets - Gene added/transferred to make crop more resistant to Monsanto's Roundup herbicide.</li>
<li>Cotton - engineered to produce Bt toxin.  The seeds are pressed into   cottonseed oil, which is a common ingredient in vegetable oil and   margarine.</li>
<li>Dairy - Cows injected with GE hormone rBGH/rBST; possibly fed GM grains and hay.</li>
<li>Aspartame/AminoSweet - Addictive and dangerous artificial sweetener   commonly found in chewing gum and "diet" beverages.  A building block of   aspartame, the amino acid phenylalanine, is usually manufactured with   the aid of genetically modified E. coli bacteria.  This process has been   used industrially in the USA for many years.</li>
<li>Papayas - yup the fruit</li>
<li>Farm Raised Salmon</li>
</ul>
</li>
<li> <strong>MAKE SURE THE LABEL SAYS 100% <a href="http://www.wikihow.com/Choose-the-Most-Important-Organic-Foods" title="Choose the Most Important Organic Foods">organic</a></strong>                                                                               The US and Canadian governments do not allow manufacturers to label   something 100% organic if that food has been genetically modified or   been fed genetically modified feed. However, you may find that organic   food is more expensive and different in appearance from conventional   products. Also, just because something says "organic" on it does not   mean that it does not contain GMs. In fact, it can still contain up to   30% GMs, so be sure the labels say 100% organic.<br /> <br /> 
<ul>
<li>This applies to eggs, as well. Eggs labeled "free-range", "natural",   or "cage-free" are not necessarily GE-free; look for eggs to be 100%   organic.<br /> <br /></li>
</ul>
</li>
<li> <strong>LEARN FRUITS AND VEGETABLES NUMBERS</strong>.<br /> 
<ul>
<li>If it is a 4-digit number, the food is conventionally produced.</li>
<li>If it is a 5-digit number beginning with an 8, it is GM.  However, do   not trust that GE foods will have a PLU identifying it as such,  because  PLU labeling is optional. </li>
<li>If it is a 5-digit number beginning with a 9, it is<br /> organic.</li>
<li> <strong>PURCHASE BEEF 100% GRASS FED</strong>.   Most cattle in  the U.S. spend the last portion of  their lives in  feedlots where they may be given GM corn, the purpose of  which is to  increase intramuscular fat and marbling.  If you're looking  to stay away  from GMOs, make sure the cattle were <strong>100%</strong> grass-fed   or pasture-fed (sometimes referred to as grass-finished or   pasture-finished).  The same applies to meat from other herbivores such   as sheep. With   non-ruminants like pigs and poultry that cannot be 100% grass-fed,  it's  better to look for meat that is 100% organic.</li>
<li><strong>LOOK FOR THE WORDS NO GMO's and NO PERSERVATIVES</strong><strong><br /></strong></li>
<li> <strong>SHOP LOCALLY</strong> Although more than half of all GM foods are produced in the US, most of it comes from large, industrial farms.  By shopping at <a href="http://www.wikihow.com/Save-Money-at-a-Farmers%27-Market" title="Save Money at a Farmers' Market">farmers' markets</a>,   signing up for a subscription from a local Community Supported   Agriculture (CSA) farm, or patronizing a local co-op, you may be able to   avoid GM products and possibly <a href="http://www.wikihow.com/Save-Money" title="Save Money">save money</a> at the same time.<br /> NOTE: More and more small farms are offering grains and meat directly to   customers<br />I will list a few companies in the future. </li>
<li> <strong>Buy whole foods</strong>.   Favor foods that you can cook and  prepare yourself, rather than foods  that are processed or prepared  (e.g. anything that comes in a box or a  bag, including fast food). What  you lose in convenience, you may recover  in money saved and  satisfaction gained, as well as increased peace of  mind.  Try cooking a  meal from scratch once or twice a week.  You may  enjoy it and decide to  do it more often.</li>
</ul>
</li>
</ol><xhtml:img xmlns:xhtml="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~4/cCFYW4vIFjg" height="1" width="1" /></div></content>


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    <entry>
        <title>WHEN THE "C" WORD INVADES YOUR CLOSET: PART 3 'UNEXPECTED EMAILS AND ANGELS'</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~3/liWJnaTpzfQ/outside-the-santa-monica-scan-center-the-world-seemed-normal-it-was-3pm-and-a-typical-november-day-in-las-west-side-bad.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/2010/12/outside-the-santa-monica-scan-center-the-world-seemed-normal-it-was-3pm-and-a-typical-november-day-in-las-west-side-bad.html" thr:count="3" thr:updated="2011-12-17T16:56:42-08:00" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00e54ef06db988330147e12c1217970b</id>
        <published>2010-12-31T19:38:23-08:00</published>
        <updated>2011-01-01T10:22:54-08:00</updated>
        <summary>Outside the Santa Monica Scan Center the world seemed normal. It was 3pm and a typical November day in LA’s west side. Bad traffic. Unbearable heat. Brian and I chatting about work. He wanted me to keep my meeting scheduled...</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Closet Karma</name>
        </author>
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/"><div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p>Outside the Santa Monica Scan Center the world seemed normal.  It was 3pm and a typical November day in LA’s west side.</p>
<p>Bad traffic.  Unbearable heat.  Brian and I chatting about work.</p>
<p>He wanted me to keep my meeting scheduled that evening.  I wanted to cancel.</p>
<p>“I am really excited for you… you need to start doing your own stuff.  This is your chance to get what you deserve from them," he said.</p>
<p>The harder I tried to listen to him the more I felt like Charlie Brown.  I couldn’t make out a word he was saying.</p>
<p>My eyes wandered…</p>
<p>How come I never noticed before his upper lip twitched when he got excited?...</p>
<p> </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em><strong>Maybe after 10 years of being together I had just forgotten</strong></em></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em><strong> <a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e12e84ae970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="N1261372734_30232_2702" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330147e12e84ae970b" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e12e84ae970b-320wi" title="N1261372734_30232_2702" /></a> <br /> <br /> <br /><br /></strong></em></p>
<p>I forced myself to look him in the eye.  I wanted to give him validation I was listening…but I wasn’t.  I actually had several full- blown conversations going on with myself as I stared at him...</p>
<p>--“I need to get a second and third opinion”</p>
<p>--“Who do I know who has had stage 3 Cancer in their 30’s?”</p>
<p>--“Do any of my friends have relatives who are oncologists? Someone I know has to work for Dr. OZ or Dr. Phil or something!”</p>
<p>--“I am sure that bar crawl in Iowa City didn’t help.  Why did I let him eat that burrito and cheese fries? Come to think of it why did I eat that burrito?”</p>
<p>--“Wait - we are supposed to try and have a baby this year.  What if now...??"</p>
<p>--"FUCK! Why I am I so focused on my career?"</p>
<p>--“Speaking of jobs..I really don’t like my job.  He is right.  Why aren’t I working for myself?”</p>
<p>--“Wait!  He loves his job finally…Oh no!  What about HIS new job?”</p>
<p>--“Will he lose his hair? I love his hair.”</p>
<p> --“Maybe I can find a healer or a shaman who can save his hair?  Kara, that is obnoxious."</p>
<p>--"Wait what about John of God!  We saw him on Dateline!  He cures people."</p>
<p>--"We love watching Dateline on Friday nights...What will our Friday nights be like now???...”</p>
<p>--“Does Amazon sell books on kicking cancer’s ass?”</p>
<p>--“Crap!  Why didn’t I get my damn crack-berry fixed….I NEED TO SEARCH THE INTERNET!!!”</p>
<p>Finally, we were home. I burst through our front door, hopped on the internet and joined every colon cancer blog I could find.  The subject of every post was "HELP US!!!!!"</p>
<p>An hour into googling my brains out Brian said, “Love you, don’t be late for your meeting.”  He was walking out the front door.</p>
<p>“Wait what are you doing???” I protested,  “You have cancer!”</p>
<p>He looked at me and said, “Nothing has changed since yesterday except the fact we <em>KNOW </em>I have cancer.  You need to go to that meeting now more than ever.  I need to go to work and keep busy as long as I can.”</p>
<p>I forced a smile and said, “Ok you're right, love you.”</p>
<p>The door shut.  Georgia, our puppy, watched Brian pull out of the driveway.  His car cleared the block, I sobbed and compulsively hit refresh on my screen.  Would anyone write me back????</p>
<p>I received 10 responses in the first 2 hours.  Women whose husbands had colon cancer.  Children who had lost their mothers to colon cancer.  Men emailing me what to except the next few weeks for Brian.  The stories were harrowing and horrifying all at the same time.</p>
<p>I sobbed some more and thought there has to be another way.</p>
<p>Finally I posted, “Has anyone tried to heal or improve their cancer through diet?”</p>
<p>Immediately I received emails about a low-residue diet.  The Diet basically consists of white rice, white bread, potato, ect…</p>
<p>The theory is these foods will pass through the digestive track easier helping the colon to heal after surgery.</p>
<p>As I read I thought, “I am no dietician but white bread blows me up bigger than a buluga whale float in the Rose Bowl Parade…this diet is anyone’s worst nightmare, let alone a cancer patient!"</p>
<p>I scrolled down…most patients commented on how after surgery they did not have regular bowel movements for weeks.  They were constipated and in pain.  “This can’t be right?” I thought.</p>
<p>I slammed my computer shut and screamed!  “What the hell am I supposed to do???”</p>
<p> As I slowly made my way to the shower my eyes caught a glimpse of my dusty bookshelf.</p>
<p>In my 20’s I had many lives and my book shelf was a reflection. The first shelf was cluttered with self help books like 'Exorcising your Ex.'  The second was books like 'Shamanism for Dummies'.  The third 'Learn French Easy.'  But the 4<sup>th</sup> turned out to be the best life I ever lived.  My Raw-Vegan food phase.</p>
<p>I furiously flipped through the pages scanning for anything that said cancer.  And there it was, a dear old friend I had completely forgotten.  Wheat Grass!  The super of super foods.</p>
<p>In my early 20’s to nurse a hangover I would drag my girlfriend Carolyn to the juicing bar and we would gag down shots of wheat grass.  I vividly remember the gagging but I had completely forgotten how it miraculously cured our hangovers.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em>At 25, juicing was a way of life for Brian and I.  And we looked hot!  </em></strong><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e12c74db970b-pi"><img alt="Bk italy" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330147e12c74db970b" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e12c74db970b-320wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Bk italy" /></a> <br /> <br /><br /></p>
<p>I thought, “What’s the worst thing that can happen?” We'll look hot?</p>
<p>So I knew where to start.  But where to go... I had no idea.  So I showered, changed and did my best to look presentable for my “big pitch.”</p>
<p>As I headed to my meeting I got an email my bosses needed to move our meeting to our company wrap party because their schedule ran late.</p>
<p>Blood shot eyes and I am headed to a bar? Brilliant.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em>My work colleagues at the bar assumed I had been “pre-partying”.</em></strong></p>
<p><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330148c7356a91970c-pi"><img alt="73799_463147703787_747903787_5421635_188737_n" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330148c7356a91970c" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330148c7356a91970c-320wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="73799_463147703787_747903787_5421635_188737_n" /></a></p>
<p>“Act normal”, I told myself "Or drunk.  Drunk could work... you're at a bar."</p>
<p>My stomach twisted and turned.  But I smiled, nodded and clinked cheers.</p>
<p>Then, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.  Everyone seemed normal.  They were talking about their babies and their lives and their plans.  I ran outside for fresh air.</p>
<p>Hearing about my friends "normal" lives forced me to face the fact Brian and I were about to experience "a new normal."   Why can't we just be normal?</p>
<p>Just when I was about to give up and drown myself in a tequila shot...my blackberry buzzed.</p>
<p>The email said, “Please check out <a href="http://www.chrisbeatcancer.com" target="_blank">www.chrisbeatcancer.com</a>.  My cancer is too far-gone I think but I have a feeling your husband has a similar story to this guy.  May God Bless You.”  The message came from one of the blogs I had posted on.</p>
<p>This was the first encounter of many my husband and I would have with angels...</p>
<p><a href="http://www.chrisbeatcancer.com" target="_blank">Chris of "Chris Beat Cancer"</a> was about to become one of our biggest champions.  In fact, God was about to connect and reconnect us with some of the most amazing people in the world.  He was about to disconnect us with some people as well...</p>
<p>I knew our lives had been changed forever, but I had no idea Cancer was about to be the best thing that ever happened to Brian and I in 2010.</p>
<p>Brian and I hope that all of your struggles in 2010 turn into blessings in 2011. Just this Christmas Brian was finally allowed to eat something sweet. (I will explain why in future blogs). Here is one of Brian's favorite recipes that curbed his sugar appetite but was healthy! He would like me to share it with you for comfort food during football this weekend! And be sure to check back next week to see our EXTREME KITCHEN MAKE OVER!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>SASSY SWEET POTATOES</p>
<p>Ingredients</p>
<p>4 Organic Yams</p>
<p>Raw Agave Nectar 3/4 - a cup (depending on how sweet you like it)</p>
<p>Organic Pecans or Almonds Soaked (1/2 cup)</p>
<p>Organic Cinnamon (1 tbl spoon)</p>
<p>Shaved Raw Ginger Root (Shave off 4 peels and dice)</p>
<p>Organic Nutmeg (I tsp)</p>
<p>Organic Raw Honey (preferably from a local Bee Farmer)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bake the Yams in the oven at 375 for one hour. Mash the Yams and add agave, cinnamon, ginger root and nutmeg. Once the batch is fluffy, slowly stir the pecans into the mix. When dishing out, drizzle a teaspoon of organic raw honey on top of each serving.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p><xhtml:img xmlns:xhtml="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~4/liWJnaTpzfQ" height="1" width="1" /></div></content>


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    <entry>
        <title>WHEN THE "C" WORD INVADES YOUR CLOSET. PART 2:  'ANXIETY,ANGER AND ANSWERS'</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~3/f9QDWITXS3Q/after-the-news-i-told-brian-i-had-to-go-to-the-bathroom-i-walked-out-the-door-and-found-myself-frozen-in-the-hallway-i.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/2010/12/after-the-news-i-told-brian-i-had-to-go-to-the-bathroom-i-walked-out-the-door-and-found-myself-frozen-in-the-hallway-i.html" thr:count="2" thr:updated="2010-12-20T05:38:23-08:00" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00e54ef06db988330147e0c67057970b</id>
        <published>2010-12-17T19:53:42-08:00</published>
        <updated>2011-02-12T12:33:43-08:00</updated>
        <summary>After the news, I told Brian I had to go to the bathroom. I walked out of the door and found myself frozen in the hallway. The walls started to feel like they were shrinking in on me. I wanted...</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Closet Karma</name>
        </author>
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/"><div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p> </p>
<p>After the news, I told Brian I had to go to the bathroom.  I walked out of the door and found myself frozen in the hallway.</p>
<p>The walls started to feel like they were shrinking in on me. </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em><strong>I wanted to run but I felt like Alice, stuck with no where to go.</strong></em></p>
<p><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e0ce38b3970b-pi"><img alt="Alice" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330147e0ce38b3970b" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e0ce38b3970b-500wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Alice" /></a> <br /> <br />I kept thinking, "This cannot be real!!!?????"</p>
<p>I tried to recap the morning. At the gastroenterologist I had been blind sided.  After, we were rushed so quickly to the CT scan there was no time... no time to research. No time to ask the right questions.  And no way to turn back time.</p>
<p>On the way to the scan I had texted my aunt and my best friend because they're both nurses. I wanted to at least know what questions to ask a scanning technician.  They did their best to quickly debrief me but without a diagnosis... there isn't much to ask.</p>
<p>When I looked down at my Blackberry there was a message from my aunt.</p>
<p><strong>"What did they say? What do they think it is?"</strong></p>
<p>I was shaking as I texted the words, <strong>"Please, not my husband."</strong></p>
<p>A woman walking out of the plastic surgeon's office next door slammed into me, knocking the phone out of my hand.  She was wearing a bright pink pashmina.  She did not apologize.</p>
<p>In my head I screamed, “My husband has cancer you BITCH and P.S., it's too hot for a pashmina!”</p>
<p>Then I thought, "Who are you right now?  Stop it!  What if your anger makes him sicker?  What if God is punishing you for all the things you have ever done wrong?"</p>
<p>I tried to fight it because I don't consider myself an angry person, but I felt this uncontrollable anger rise inside of me.  I was now furious at everyone and everything.</p>
<p>I felt a tap on my shoulder.  It was the nice dressed doctor who had told us Brian had cancer. He hugged me. Suddenly, I found myself sobbing in the arms of a man I despised just 45 minutes ago.</p>
<p>“I should have made him get tested two weeks ago!  It’s my fault.  I am a bad wife!”</p>
<p>The doctor raised my head, “Two weeks would not have made a difference.  This is a slow moving cancer.  You are lucky you made him go at all.  Get it out.  Get it all out today.”</p>
<p>Snot nosed, I looked into his eyes and said, “I know cancer.  I know how this ends and I can’t.”</p>
<p>He replied. “Yes you can.  You are strong.  I have a really good feeling about your husband.  Fight.  You can beat this, but you have to fight for him.”  Then he walked away.</p>
<p>I raised the hood on my cashmere sweater once again.  Brian greeted me in the hallway.</p>
<p>As we exited the building he said, “I think I should drive. You are upset.”</p>
<p>Defeated, I handed him the keys.  I felt hollow.</p>
<p>Then he looked at me and grabbed my hand, “I am going to beat this thing…I am not going to leave you. I am going to be OK.  Don’t worry my story will end differently.”</p>
<p>Suddenly, something snapped inside of me.  "He was consoling me.  He was worried about me????"</p>
<p>The same voice that was angry just moments before was now whispering, "This CANNOT HAPPEN.  He can not console you." </p>
<p>And at that moment I knew I was going to fight like I had never fought before.</p>
<p>Tens years of fighting and clawing my way up the ladder in the entertainment industry had nothing to do with job success.  God was preparing me for LIFE SUCCESS.</p>
<p>Every moment that had made me stronger was in preparation for November 4th, 2010. </p>
<p>This was about to be Brian's and I's biggest production yet and I was going to direct and produce the shit out of it.</p>
<p>And I wasn't giving up until we took home the title of Best Picture, Best Director and Best Actor!  It was time we un-closeted all that good Karma that was waiting to be released.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"> <em><strong>HERE IS A SNEAK PEAK AT HOW OUR FUTURE CHANGE- AND WHAT WE LEARNED ABOUT THE FUTURE OF YOUR FOOD!</strong></em></p>
<p><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330148c6d87a4a970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Groceries" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330148c6d87a4a970c" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330148c6d87a4a970c-500wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Groceries" /></a></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em><strong>HERE ARE SOME THINGS BRIAN WOULD LIKE ALL OF OUR READERS TO KNOW THIS WEEK:</strong></em></p>
<p>1.) Colorectal Cancer is the second leading cause of cancer death in the U.S.</p>
<p>2.)  Although there has been a significant rise in the number of  young  people diagnosed with this cancer in the last 5 years, the recommended   screening age for colon cancer is 50. Brian is 35.</p>
<p>3.) Colorectal Cancer is a slow moving cancer and if caught very early has a 90% recovery rate.</p>
<p>4.)  You can have colon cancer and feel great.  Symptoms are non-specific  like stomach discomfort, rectal bleeding, or slight blood in and  around  your stool.  Sometimes symptoms can take years to present themselves.  When it was diagnosed, Brian's tumor was the size of an orange!</p>
<p>5.) Over 9% of MEN AND WOMEN will be effected by colorectal cancer. This cancer is an equal opportunity cancer.</p>
<p>Love and Light,</p>
<p>Remember everything is a blessing in disguise this holiday season,</p>
<p>KK and BL</p>
<p><em>PS: Next week we will share some of the amazing and tasty disease-fighting recipes I learned about in my quest to get Brian (and what turned out to be myself in the long run) healthy.  We hope this will bring love and health to your table and your families this holiday seasons :)</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><br /><span style="font-size: 8pt;"><br /></span></p><xhtml:img xmlns:xhtml="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~4/f9QDWITXS3Q" height="1" width="1" /></div></content>


    <feedburner:origLink>http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/2010/12/after-the-news-i-told-brian-i-had-to-go-to-the-bathroom-i-walked-out-the-door-and-found-myself-frozen-in-the-hallway-i.html</feedburner:origLink></entry>
    <entry>
        <title>WHEN THE "C" WORD INVADES YOUR CLOSET</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~3/_aH0jJyZT-I/when-the-c-word-invades-your-closet.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/2010/12/when-the-c-word-invades-your-closet.html" thr:count="4" thr:updated="2010-12-10T18:34:40-08:00" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00e54ef06db988330147e05461c5970b</id>
        <published>2010-12-09T19:15:15-08:00</published>
        <updated>2010-12-11T11:53:25-08:00</updated>
        <summary>There are so many C words that make your heart flutter like...couture, cashmere, or better yet closet! I have to admit that I am a big fan of most C words...especially coffee and cash! But somehow in my 30's, I...</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Closet Karma</name>
        </author>
        
        <category scheme="http://sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" term="cancer" />
        <category scheme="http://sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" term="colon cancer" />
        <category scheme="http://sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" term="fashion" />
        <category scheme="http://sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" term="kara kurcz" />
        <category scheme="http://sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" term="solas" />
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/"><div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p>There are so many C words that make your heart flutter like...couture, cashmere, or better yet closet!  I have to admit that I am a big fan of most C words...especially coffee and cash!</p>
<p>But somehow in my 30's, I had completely forgotten there were other C words-words that make your heart feel like it has stopped.  Words like carcinoma, cancer or chemo.</p>
<p>In my 20's I had experienced those words first hand with family and friends and while you never forget the "who" in those lost, over time I had slowly forgotten...the "how".</p>
<p>So at 6:30am on November 4th the only "C" word on my mind was coffee...creme brulee coffee to be exact.</p>
<p>Brian was making me drive to his doctors appointment.  I don't drive.  So If he didn't let me make a pit stop...this could be grounds for divorce.  We made our way through traffic in Beverly Hills.  My eyes were definitely on the clock, not the road.  As we approached our destination I saw an oasis in the distance-the most beautiful Coffee Bean EVER!</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em><strong>We had 4 minutes till his colonoscopy appointment. We were practically early!</strong></em></p>
<p><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e08a29f1970b-pi"><img alt="Coffee-bean-optimized" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330147e08a29f1970b" height="288" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e08a29f1970b-500wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border: 1px solid #000000;" title="Coffee-bean-optimized" width="433" /></a></p>
<p>He looked at me and said "Kara, forget about it.  I don't want to be late."</p>
<p>I retorted, "You're just getting checked for celiacs stop being so dramatic."</p>
<p>He laughed and said, "Me dramatic?  Ok drop me off.  I will fill out the paperwork out and you run and get your coffee.  You are an addict Lady!"</p>
<p>And with those words I frolicked to the Coffee Bean clueless that in hour our lives were about to be changed forever...by the "C" word I had forgotten.</p>
<p>The rest of the day is pretty much a blur for both Brian and I.  Brian was coming off a twilight anesthesia.  I was obsessing over the thought, "Why was that damn coffee so important to me?" As if I had NOT stopped somehow things would have been different. </p>
<p>I remember the gastroenterologist was wearing a red tie.  It clashed with his shirt.  I also remember he would not look me in the eye.</p>
<p>I remember a women in her 60's in the CT scan waiting room.  She had a purple bandanna on her head.  It was silk.  She told me, "You get through it.  Don't worry, you do."  I wanted to say to her, "Sorry you must be mistaken. You see were in our early 30's we don't belong here."  But instead I said, "Thank you that is a beautiful scarf."</p>
<p>The doctor who finally told us Brian had cancer was wearing a blue shirt.  It matched his blue eyes.  He was the best dressed I had seen all day.</p>
<p>The tumor was the size of an orange.  The scan indicated 3 lymph's were most likely infected putting us somewhere around an early stage 3.  He had no major symptoms or signs.</p>
<p>I thought about how two days before we had just returned from a football game at my alma mater.  He had looked so cute in that black and gold shirt.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em><strong>In my mind I screamed, "Why is this happening?"</strong></em></p>
<p><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e08a1c4e970b-pi"><img alt="Iowablog" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330147e08a1c4e970b" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e08a1c4e970b-320wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border: 1px solid #000000;" title="Iowablog" /></a> <br /> The doctor continued to talk.  His vital organs were clear.  We should be thankful.  He said,"A tumor that big, the news is usually a lot worse, even fatal."</p>
<p>Somehow, we didn't feel very lucky.</p>
<p>I was wearing my gray cashmere sweater with a hood.  I pulled the hood over my head as too not let Brian see me cry.</p>
<p>The days that followed were to be the biggest tests of our life.  We changed the way we thought, we changed the way we ate and we changed the way we dressed.  We eventually started to un-closet our own Karma.</p>
<p>Brian has asked that I share our whole journey with our readers. So I will continue our story in future blogs. His hope is that you will find inspiration in whatever obstacle you come across in the new year and take it on with an open heart and mind.</p>
<p>And to be honest, that is just the type of amazing man I am married to.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em><strong>Brian and Tess joke around just 80 hours after surgery.  Brian's doctors said his release was a record, but I will tell you more about that later.  I just </strong></em><em><strong>dig the xmas pants and the robe.</strong></em></p>
<p><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e08a5659970b-pi"><img alt="Turkeyday" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330147e08a5659970b" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330147e08a5659970b-500wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border: 1px solid #000000;" title="Turkeyday" /></a> <br /> Life has a funny way of redirecting our path to get us back on track.  I hope you check back daily to see where the road took us.</p>
<p>Love and Light,</p>
<p>And remember the light inside of all of us burns bright even on the darkest of nights. You just have to remember to open the closet doors and let it out:)</p>
<p>KK</p><xhtml:img xmlns:xhtml="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~4/_aH0jJyZT-I" height="1" width="1" /></div></content>


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    <entry>
        <title>LIAR,LIAR, PANTS ON FIRE</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~3/KnUX7e5k-ko/nobody-likes-a-liar-in-fact-i-think-i-can-say-with-confidence-i-have-never-meant-a-single-person-who-has-ever-told-me-i-en.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/2010/10/nobody-likes-a-liar-in-fact-i-think-i-can-say-with-confidence-i-have-never-meant-a-single-person-who-has-ever-told-me-i-en.html" thr:count="0" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00e54ef06db98833013488524eca970c</id>
        <published>2010-10-19T15:30:51-07:00</published>
        <updated>2010-10-22T10:50:36-07:00</updated>
        <summary>Nobody likes a liar. In fact,I have never met a single person who has ever told me, "I enjoy people who lie." According to Wikipedia; a lie is a known untruth expressed as a truth often with the further intention...</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Closet Karma</name>
        </author>
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://www.closetkarma.com/solas_fashion/"><div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p>Nobody likes a liar.  In fact,I have never met a single person who has ever told me, "I enjoy people who lie."</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">According to Wikipedia; a lie is a known untruth expressed as a truth often with the further intention to maintain a secret or a reputation.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"> Hmm, well who wants to have a bad reputation?  Not I!</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"> So with that in mind some lies aren't as bad as others, right?</p>
<p> I mean there is the<em><strong> Noble Lie</strong></em>; when you lie for the sake of honor, whether it be your own or some else's.</p>
<p>So if someone asks you :  <strong><em>"</em></strong>When are you due?" (and the only baby your birthing is all that birthday cake you ate)</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em>and you happen to stutter in a panic, "uhhhh...."5 months". </em></strong></p>
<p><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db98833013488605d00970c-pi" style="display: inline;"> </a> <a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330133f5407fe7970b-pi"><img alt="When you due" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330133f5407fe7970b" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330133f5407fe7970b-500wi" style="border: 2px solid #ffffff; display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="When you due" /></a> <br /> <br /> This is not a lie!  You were clearly protecting your honor.</p>
<p><em>(Side note:  Ladies write your local congress.  Questions like that should be punishable by law.)</em></p>
<p>Another example, as my good friend Kala pointed out, is when you tell a sympathy lie in order to make your friend feel better.  Maybe...she happened to gain a few lbs over xmas and you lost a few.  You don't want her to feel bad!</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em>"I totally gained 5 lbs too! Don't worry about it, it's winter."</em></strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"> <em><strong> <a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330133f541b56e970b-pi"><img alt="Photo 111" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330133f541b56e970b" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330133f541b56e970b-320wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Photo 111" /></a> <br /> </strong></em><strong><br /></strong></p>
<p><em>(Come to think of it maybe skinny samaritans like Kala should be punished as well.  Their offense?  They have the ability to be skinny samaritans!)</em></p>
<p>Then there is the ever so popular,<strong> White Lie</strong>.  The "white lie", in the 21st century, has become a right of passage in relationships. Therefore making 80% of people in relationships...absolved of the sin of lying.</p>
<p>Ladies, your man TOTALLY remembered to drop your mother's card in the mail on the way to work.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em>I mean, why would he lie?</em></strong></p>
<p><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330133f5418628970b-pi"><img alt="Relationship" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db988330133f5418628970b" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db988330133f5418628970b-500wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Relationship" /></a> <br /> <br />Now my favorite word for lying is <strong>Puffery;</strong> which is an exaggerated claim.  Why?  Because everyone does it, politicians, sales people, marketing executives...women...</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em>"I have no idea why these jeans don't fit!  I have been the same size since high school."</em></strong></p>
<p><br /> <a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db9883301348861bcf4970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Ashleybelly" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db9883301348861bcf4970c" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db9883301348861bcf4970c-500wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Ashleybelly" /></a></p>
<p>Oh!  How about <strong>Lying By Omission</strong>...commonly used by teenagers and some adults...</p>
<p>Listen, when my best friend Caro and I went to our alma mater IOWA for a football game, it was not our fault those boys assumed we were seniors.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em>...I mean we are seniors...(to them)</em></strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db98833013488618720970c-pi"><img alt="Younglook" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00e54ef06db98833013488618720970c" src="http://www.closetkarma.com/.a/6a00e54ef06db98833013488618720970c-500wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Younglook" /></a> <br /> <br />And the devil of all categories of lies is...</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"> <strong>Lying Through Your Teeth</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;">I mean who could ever do that?  What a horrible person!  GROSS!</p>
<p>Yes, we have conveniently categorized lying so that some of us can do it when we deem ABSOLUTELY necessary...and others...well...they are L.I.A.R.S!!!</p>
<p>So why am I babbling on and on about lies?  And what does this have to do with your closet?!  The way I look at it, in some way shape or form, we are all...liars.  (GASP!  I KNOW!)  And the majority of our lies stem from how we think we look...and how we want to look to the world. </p>
<p>So next time someone is having a hard time telling the truth, don't get mad right away.  Think about all the times you have have total a little fib and why. Maybe it is your job to help them feel comfortable in their own skin. So they don't find the need to "lie".</p>
<p>When we are able to light the way for others that is when we are being true to ourselves...that is when we feel fabulous...and the rest my friends just has a way of falling into place.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Have a great weekend,</p>
<p>KK</p><xhtml:img xmlns:xhtml="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SolasByKaraKurcz/~4/KnUX7e5k-ko" height="1" width="1" /></div></content>


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