you tried to fool me with your kindness,

you tried to fool me with your sadness,

you tried to fool me with your longing,

you tried to fool me with your passion,

it didn’t take long to see the

creature within,

kindness was really your anger,

sadness was really your bitterness,

longing was really your desperation


passion was really your aggression,

you don’t think I can see you as you

really are,

you don’t think I can see,

the creature within.



“A lifestyle of deception is hard to keep up if your clones aren’t willing to participate.”
Jarod Kintz

I remember the day well, I was listening to music and mom was talking to her friend Mad on the phone. Mom hung the telephone receiver back on the wall phone and turned to me and said “Mad’s daughter was raped by her doctor.” I was thirteen at the time and Lisa was either fifteen or sixteen. She was a beautiful girl and men acted like hound dogs around her. “Raped, what happened mom?” “She went in for a routine internal examination, the doctor told Lisa to take her clothes off and lie on the table and next thing Lisa knew the doctor was raping her.” I remember the stunned feeling, “how is that possible mom?” “The worst thing is that Lisa’s mother was in the waiting room while this was going on,” mom said. There was no nurse in the room during the examination and Lisa testified in court that the doctor asked the nurse to leave. As hard as this is to believe, that doctor got off. You see this was back in the day when the system could crucify a young girl for her promiscuous behaviour and Lisa had a past and the lawyers played out Lisa’s past very well in court and portrayed this doctor to be a distinguished professional man who was a victim of this rotten promiscuous girl with a past. Not only did he get off, he continued to practice medicine. Years later I heard that he was charged with sexaul assault and he wasn’t so lucky in court that time. Lisa was never the same after that attack and not only was she raped by the medical system, she was raped by the judicial system as well.

I never forgot Lisa’s story nor did I ever doubt her, I knew she was telling the truth even though she was made out to be this manipulative little slut who had it out for her doctor. My mother believed Lisa as well and she never judged her for her past. When the time came for me to see doctors for examinations, I didn’t trust easily and luckily most of the doctors I visited were professional and smart enough to ensure there was an assistant in the room during the examination. Several years ago I found a lump in my breast during a self examination. Not one to jump to conclusions I made an appointment with my doctor. My doctor considered it suspicious enough to send me for a mammogram. The results of the mammogram were enough for my doctor to send me to a specialist. The specialist felt that the lump was benign but couldn’t be sure and the only way to be sure was a biopsy. The problem was that the size and location of the lump made it difficult to perform a successful biopsy. She also said that she was not supposed to refer me for a biopsy for the type of lump as the lump was to be monitored over so many months and if there were any changes then a biopsy was recommended. She essentially told me that if she was experiencing the same type of lump, she would want a biopsy as soon as possible. I agreed to the biopsy, but the problem was in order for this biopsy to be scheduled she had to say that I was extremely stressed about the lump causing me enough anxiety that it was interfering with my life. I wasn’t comfortable not knowing for sure that the lump was benign but I wasn’t that stressed about it either. I was fairly confident it was benign, just a gut feeling I guess, but you never know and the fact that the doctor said that she would have the biopsy if it was her was good enough for me.

The day for the biopsy arrived and my husband offered to come with me. I told him I was fine and I didn’t need him there. I remember the nurse prepping me for the doctor and lying on the table waiting for the procedure to be over. I hate places of medicine, the environment is clinical, cold and lacking connection. The doctor finally arrived and introduced himself and as I looked into his eyes I instinctively knew I did not like this man. His eyes held true to the environment; clinical, cold and lacking connection. There was no delicacy about him as he went about the procedure of the biopsy. He inserted the needle into my breast and tried to reach the lump. He became more and more agitated as time went on and he became somewhat rough with the needle as he tried to guide it to the exact spot. I tried not to look at him and kept my eyes closed imagining I was somewhere else, when all of a sudden I realized he was talking to me. “Pardon me?” “Why are you here,” he says. “I”m sure you can see by my file, why I’m here doctor.” Wrong thing to say because at that point his eyes narrowed and he said “this type of lump doesn’t usually require a biopsy right away, so why did your doctor send you?” Not wanting to throw my doctor under the bus and tell him that she only wrote that I was highly anxious and uptight about this lump so I could get the biopsy; I lied and told him that the lump was causing me extreme anxiety and worry. He became even more agitated and raised his voice and told me that “I was a selfish woman and that there were more problems in this world than my stupid anxieties, worries and lump.” As he was yelling at me he was thrashing the needle here and there trying to get a sample of tissue from the lump. To keep my composure intact I closed my eyes and tried to imagine myself somewhere else in order to calm myself while I was under attack from this bully of a man. He knew I couldn’t do anything about the verbal attack as he had me under his thumb lying naked on a table with a needle as long as my arm stuck in my body. He abruptly ended the procedure and aggressively pushed himself away from the table and threw his gloves off and stormed out of the room. Cowardly really, because I was still in a very vulnerable state and couldn’t say very much at that point and he removed himself from the room before I could. I got myself off the table, dressed and looked at the nurse who kept her eyes to the floor. “Must be a slice to work with such an asshole,” I say. She looked at me straight in the eyes and said “I’m very sorry about what happened.”

I saw the deception in the doctor’s eyes when he introduced himself to me, so I was not all that surprised by his unprofessional behaviour. They say you can see a person’s soul through their eyes and I believe that with all my heart as I read people by what I see through their eyes. I see insecurity, confidence, sadness, happiness, honesty, doubt, uneasiness, mischievous, proudness, and so much more. I’m happy to say that I’ve only seen true deception in the eyes of the beholder a few times in my life. Each time as I shook their hand and looked in their eyes, I could feel the deception from their eyes to their touch right down to the depth of my soul sending a burst of negative energy through my body and as time moved on the truth of their deception became painfully obvious. I’m sure if Lisa was looking at that doctor that awful day, she would have seen the deception in that man’s eyes as it manifests itself into the most haunting, cold and dead stare that you just can’t deny.

The test results from my biopsy came back and my doctor told me that not enough tissue was taken to get a proper reading. Not only was that man a bully and unprofessional, he wasn’t very good at his job. A life of simple truth and living to your core values gives you the power over any damage that deception can create, giving you confidence and insight that carries you throughout your life.

Colours of Wells, Friday’s phlog for April 10, 2015

wall art collage

Last year we visited a ghost town known as “Barkerville.” It’s a historic little gem nestled in BC’s Cariboo Mountain foothills. Wells was built in the 1930s to accommodate the area’s gold miners and now plays host to Barkerville. The village has evolved into a quaint arts community evidenced by the art on the walls of Wells’ buildings and the colour of the town’s houses. Every house is painted a different colour and most of the houses have some kind of art painted on the outside walls. The population of Wells is 236, if you blink you miss the town when driving through. It was dreary weather when we visited, but the colours of Wells lifted your spirit.



Another Daily Post Weekly challenge: Blur. I took this photo while running an errand one day. I liked the trees, I liked the street and I stopped for a second to snap a pic. I didn’t look at the picture until days later and I noticed the top of the trees were completely blurred adding a mystic tone. This week’s The daily post is the perfect theme to showcase this picture.


easter collage

many fond memories,
during Easter celebrations,
egg wars,
bunny ears,
Easter egg hunts,
looking for the Easter Bunny,
wondering where he roams,
popping up everywhere,
giggling at the chocolate and
goodies he brings,
cherishing family and friends.