Last Sunday on the 10:30 a.m. Joel Osteen telecast on WKRN his sermon was about God’s “hedge of protection.” How too many people live in fear instead of faith.

I liked that saying. “Live in faith rather than fear.”

Part of his message was if you live in faith you’ll be fine. Even with all the bad things we read about in the news –the threat of terrorist, increased burglary and crime, the spread of gangs and gang violence– children of God who stay in faith have a hedge of protection.

Like he does each Sunday he gave all sorts of examples of people who might have died if the angel of God hadn’t been watching over them and the hedge of protection hadn’t been up. Such as a police officer who was shot point blank in the chest. The bullet nicked his badge and made it change direction just enough to miss the major artery that, if hit, would’ve killed him instantly.

Or the college kid who climbed up 40 feet in the air on a telephone pole because his friends dared him. He slipped and fell, but his belt got caught in a rung and acted like a harness that held him there until help could come.

Or a preacher who went to a dangerous country and was supposed to be part of a large event. It had to be cancelled when heavy rains flooded the event site. A couple of weeks later clean up crews discovered a massive bomb had been buried under the ground and it would’ve decimated the site.

I love his messages but I’m always a bit troubled by ones like this. He was trying to say God’s will decide when it’s your time to go. God’s in control. When bad things happen, it might not be as bad as it seems.

But he didn’t focus on that enough. I think a lot of people could misread it as they’re better than others who do get robbed or killed if it happens to someone else and not them.

I’m sure that’s not what he was trying to convey, but I love when he’s more balanced about stressing that whatever happens, happens for a reason. The good and the bad. That there are lessons to be learned and growing to be done when challenges come.

He’s focused sermons on that message before. I wish he’d just incorporated a little more of that into this one.

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Mr. Meow right when we brought him home from the vet Saturday 11/27

Poor Mr. Meow…He got to come home Saturday but they had to put a feeding tube in him first.

They also loaded him up on all kinds of drugs. If it’s the triWHATCMACALLITitis (I still can’t get the name of it, but it’s basically an inflammation/infection of his liver, pancreas and gallbladder) the antibiotics should treat that.

If that doesn’t work, then it’s likely cancer and it’s only a matter of time. How much time they can’t say. Depends on how fast the cancer progresses.

It was awesome to get him home. The feeding tube has been quite the adventure, but today I got a better hang of it. I still ended up squirting a bunch on him, but a lot less than my first few tries.

He seems to be very happy to be home. He slept with me the whole night through Saturday. He always falls asleep with me, but usually moves to one of his other comfy spots during the night.

Last night he slept on my head like he used to do the first several years we had him. And during the times I’m on the couch… he’s been right there with me, his back leg thrown over my arm in that way he does to “hug” me.

I’m very grateful for this time with him. I hope it’s going to be a healing time, but if it turns out it’s the beginning of the end then I’m thankful we’ve had these last moments to say goodbye and show each other in the ways we’ve developed over the years that we love each other.

Mr. Meow in his crate after his follow-up visit today to check his tube and get a new bandage

Mr. Meow in his crate after his follow-up visit today to check his tube and get a new bandage

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Mr. Meow’s in the Hospital

Posted by: courtin Pet Mom Life
24
Nov

The last several months Mr. Meow’s had a heck of a time. It sort of all started back when he got a bad tooth. One of his front fangs cracked off, became infected, and eventually needed to be pulled.

He hadn’t been eating back then too good. It made sense, though. His mouth was in pain and he had an infection so he couldn’t have been feeling too good.

But then he never really bounced back after that. The last month he’s been really bad. He hasn’t been eating hardly anything and has continued losing weight.

Last week I took him in for some reason. At the moment I can’t even remember why. Was it a check-up for his thyroid meds? Or was it something else? Maybe to get the results from his ultrasound? No, I think she called to talk to me about those. Maybe it was to get another steroid injection for the itches he’s had lately.

I can’t remember. My mind’s not functioning as I write this. All I know is the last few days he’s really been bad about eating. Yesterday I called and made an appointment for him today because all he’d had was a few treats. Something told me I better get him back in, so…I did.

Our regular vet is off this week, but all the vets where we go are good. Today’s vet gave us some options, one of which was to hospitalize him and see if fluids and antibiotics will help at all.

So, as much as I hated to do it, I left him there. I want him home, and I know he wants to be home, but if they can do anything to help him not starve to death I want to try.

Complicating treatment options is that no definitive results are turning up. His ultrasound turned up a variety of possible causes for a different things.  His last blood work didn’t indicate anything specific.

But it’s not normal for him to have lost so much weight and not eat. They know something’s going on, they just can’t pinpoint what.

I just hope he comes home from the hospital. I know he’s getting older, and I know we may end up having to make a hard decision here shortly. But I sure don’t want to. He’s been such a good cat. He wandered into our lives 11 years ago this month and has done nothing except totally enriched it.

Coming home to a Mr. Meow-less house right now and sitting here expecting to see him perched in his usual spots has me thinking, “The day may be coming sooner than I want that he won’t be here anymore.”

That just makes my heart hurt more than mere words can describe.

I’m hoping with all my might that it’s an infection and he responds to antibiotics and starts feeling better again. Even without eating he’s still been snuggling and playing. If it was cancer I don’t know if he’d do that.

Although, he’s always been one tough and ornery cat. I hope that helps him beat whatever is ailing him now so he can come home and live to be a really old, fiesty Gata Bato. One who dies years from now peacefully in his sleep.

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I do. I always have. I love making wishes. I don’t care if it’s when I blow out the candles on my birthday cake, when I toss a coin into a fountain, or when I see a star twinkling overhead…if I can make a wish I’m not going to waste the opportunity.

When I was younger I used to wish for silly things:

  • to be popular (or even just liked)
  • for certain boys to notice me
  • to become more attractive

Then I went through a phase where I was very cautious about what I’d wish for, because I learned the hard way that the saying, “Be careful what you wish for” became a saying for a reason. Sometimes you get way more than you bargained for when your wishes come true.

The past few years my wishes have definitely reflected all that went on in my life. When I was going through my nutty time with my mom I wished for peace and strength a lot.

When  I got diagnosed with cancer I wished for healing and strength (especially in the beginning when I was still terrified of needles).

Since I’ve been in remission I find myself wishing things for other people. Like answers instead of uncertainty for my friends having relationship troubles, or hope, courage and healing for others I know facing health problems.

But tonight I read an email from someone who found me via Haunt Jaunts. Her niece was recently diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma. Her niece is just seven years old.

We’ve exchanged a couple of emails. In her last one to me she sent a picture of herself with her niece. I bawled for 10 minutes straight.

The picture wasn’t sad. It was of them together in the hospital, but her neice wasn’t bedridden. She was standing, her aunt seated next to her, and they looked to be in a playroom the hospital set up.

Even with her little porta cath sticking out of her arm, she had a smile on her face. Just a slight one. Almost a shy one.

Her aunt had enclosed it with the latest details of her niece’s struggle to win out over the cancer. (She’s had a rough time. Much rougher than I had. She’s had to stay in the hospital a lot, and her mom and dad have three other ones to care for also, including a newborn.)

She had another slight setback recently, and as I read about it I cried and wished and prayed that no child should ever have to endure cancer.

I know what wish I’ll be making next time I see a star. Well, the couple of wishes I’ll make. First and foremost for this beautiful little seven-year-old girl to become a NHL survivor. Second, that one day we won’t need cures for cancer. We’ll know how to prevent it in the first place.

And if that doesn’t happen, my wish is that medicine keeps advancing so treatments have higher and higher survival rates with less and less side effects.

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Where did this girl go?

Posted by: courtin Life in General
8
Nov

SCAN0081 

I was going through photos the other day looking for old Halloween costumes of my youth when I stumbled across this picture. I cracked up laughing.

If ever oh ever there was a picture capturing my essence (or the one I imagine of myself), this one is it. God, I loved that slide whistle!

But beyond me marching down the trail to what I’m sure was the sound of my own off-beat tune, that’s what I see: me marching merrily and obliviously back to my dad’s truck and whatever our next adventure was going to be.

That’s how I spent my childhood. I think that’s how I survived my childhood. Just me in my own oblivious world. Just give me something to focus on, and I was one happy camper. (Which is what I’m sure we were doing in this picture. Coming from or going to a camp ground.)

In this picture it’s a slide whistle, but a book or some paper and crayons or my beloved Barbies were my other ”keep me happy by focusing on something else” tools. It didn’t take much to distract or amuse me.

But, man, this picture of me and my slide whistle really brought back some memories…and also reminded me of the girl I once used to be. Where did she go? Is she still there hidden in the depths of this grown-up version?

Hell yeah. I just forget to let her march along Life’s path to her own off-beat tune with oblivious abandon like I used to. Gotta change that.

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Why I Love “Mad Men”

Posted by: courtin TV Watching Life
18
Aug

I was drawn to Mad Men right from the beginning. I like a lot of things about the show: the characters, the acting, how it takes you back in time and shows you a glimpse of life from a time gone by, and even the ad aspect.

Marketing and advertising have always fascinated me. In fact, I went to college in hopes of becoming an ad woman!

I elected to be a marketing major, but come sophomore year it was pretty obvious changing my major was going to be in order if I wanted to graduate. I couldn’t pass accounting or economics to save my soul, and I needed those to be admitted into U of A’s Business School’s marketing program.

Instead I went with Communications. Similar lines, but no accounting or economics.

But that’s a story for another day. (Or is it? I guess I already told it.)

Back to the appeal of Mad Men…

Last night when I climbed into bed I started flipping channels. That’s when the Joy Behar Show on HLN caught my eye.

There was a caption on the bottom of the screen as the ladies were talking that said something about one of the actresses on Mad Men being a size 12. Then it said how the director prefers the women on the show to look “natural.”

As opposed to the concentration camp thin look most of the other actresses on 99% of the other TV shows go for?

THAT’S why I think Mad Men also appeals to me so much. Because I see those women, many of whom are extremely attractive, but many of whom are also just “regular,” and can actually relate to them.

They look like pictures of family members in photo albums I have from back at that time. They look “real.” They look like people who may have really lived then.

They don’t look like some illusions of beauty they’re trying to live up to based on someone else’s notion of it.

I think there’s a hint of irony in all of this somewhere. Or maybe more than a hint. What’s beauty after all? What we’re sold it being, which anymore means super thin, white teeth, shiny hair, good muscle tone, firm and unblemished skin…See where I’m going with this? I bet you can think of half a dozen products you’ve seen advertised just this morning that promote these things to you with the underlying promise you’ll be more beautiful if you use them.

Don’t get me wrong. Even on Mad Men the women all strive for a beauty ideal being sold to them via movies and TV at that time. Not much has changed in that respect. I feel it’s just gotten more intense these days.

Every Wednesday I get a quote from Women’s Wednesday Weblink. I really liked today’s.

People often say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I say that the most liberating thing about beauty is realizing that you are the beholder. ~Salma Hayek~

When was the last time you beheld yourself? I say go behold yourself today and take a minute to appreciate all the things that make you beautiful!

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Yesterday started off pretty much like every other Sunday. Wayne went on his 14 mile run with the neighbor, I enjoyed my Sleeping in Sunday ritual. Later there’s always the big decision: what are we going to do for breakfast?

Since he had work to do still (he’s been working the last 2 weeks, including weekends, on a big deal) and I was craving link sausages, we decided I’d run to the store and make us breakfast at home.

So I took off, got the stuff, and came home. That’s when disaster struck –or, rather, my klutzy ways did.

I stepped wrong and my foot caught the side of our driveway…the part that’s not flush with the lawn. My ankle twisted under me as I crashed to the ground screaming.

I felt it bend funny, and could’ve swore I felt something snap. Judging by the searing pain shooting through my leg and foot I thought I’d for sure broken my ankle.

Bawling my head off like I haven’t done since I was a kid, I started screaming for help hoping Wayne would hear. Then, still laying sprawled out on the ground because it hurt so bad and I was afraid to move, my mind raced trying to figure out how what to do next.

I grabbed my cell and called home. The second Wayne answered I started screaming, “Help me! Help me! I’m outside!”

Now he says I hung up on him, but I swear he hung up. I thought he heard me and was on his way outside so I clicked off and then waited for the door to open.

And waited. And kept waiting.

“What the heck is taking him so long?” I thought.

Bear in mind, I’m still laying on the ground bawling my head off.

A few more seconds passed and still no Wayne. I called him again, this time on his cell.

“Where the hell are you? Help me! I’m outside. I fell down! I think I broke my ankle!”

“What? Where are you?”

“OUTSIDE! Get the hell out here and help me, dammit! I can’t walk!”

Finally the front door opens and when he sees me he comes racing over to help me get inside.

Later he explained that he couldn’t understand me very well the first time I called. All he knew was I was hysterical and he thought I’d been in a car accident or had somehow run over an animal.

The second he thought of that last one he started racing around the house to make sure all of our animals were inside. (Because Mr. Meow is a good one to sneak out lately without us realizing it right away.) He started panicking I’d killed one of them on accident or something.

“Why didn’t you just look outside?” I asked.

“Because I thought you were still at the store. Or on the on the road.”

I sort of understand what he’s saying, but I’m fairly sure if he called me up howling that he was outside, even if I knew he’d been at the store, I’d at least go look out the window to see what was going on.

What I should’ve done, which I didn’t think of until I was falling asleep last night, was to set off my car’s emergency honking button. Maybe that would’ve gotten him to look out the window?

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My cousin sent me my aunt’s obituary shortly after the funeral. The monsignor had referenced it during the funeral mass, but I hadn’t read it. I asked if someone could make sure I got a copy.

I didn’t realize until I got ready to post it here with the thoughts that follow it that there was also a picture that went with it. My email program doesn’t always automatically open them.

SoI manually opened it and was shocked by the reaction I had to seeing my aunt’s smiling, vibrant face.

Aunt Alice's In Memorium Photo

That was my Aunt Alice. Not the lady I’d paid my last respects to in her coffin. That version of my dear aunt looked fake and unreal, like a mannequin.

But the lady smiling in the picture was Alice E. Kotso. Known to some as “wife,” to others as “mom,” to their children as “grandma,” to her brother as “sister,” to others of us as “aunt,” to her husband’s side as an “in-law” (though many dropped that and just called her “sister” or “daughter”), to her longtime friend Irene as “BFF,” to many others as “friend.”

And here’s what was written about her:

It is with deep regret that we advise our Membership of the passing of Alice Kotso, dear wife of OFCC Member Joseph Kotso.

Alice E. Kotso (nee Mroch), age 75, of Munster passed away Saturday, July 24, 2010 at Northwest Memorial Prentice Women’s Hospital of Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML). She is survived by her loving husband, Joseph of 51 years, 5 months and 17 days; loving daughters: Kimberly and Katherine; loving son, Michael (Leticia) Kotso; nine grandchildren: William and Elizabeth Sears, Nicole Mammano, John-Paul, Teresa, Joseph, Mary Alice, Christopher, and Rebecca; one brother, Ralph Mroch of Denver, CO; several nieces, nephews, brothers-in-law, and sisters-in -law; and friend of 56 years, Irene Henry of Alexandria, VA, she was a college roommate and sorority sister. Preceded in death be her granddaughter, Claire-Marie Kotso.

She lived for the love of her family and especially her grandchildren taking them on trips to Europe and beyond for life experiences. Alice and her husband travelled to over 40 countries, most recently this past May travelling to Korea, China and Tibet. She was the owner of the former Hoosier Travel Agency.

Alice served as first district Vice-Chairman of the Indiana Republican State Central Committee in 1971-72. In 1984, in Dallas, TX, she was a delegate to the Republican National Convention when President Reagan declared the ‘84 convention “The Year of the Woman”. She was also in attendance at five additional national conventions with her husband.

Mass of Christian Burial will be held on Wednesday, July 28, 2010, 10:00 AM at St. Thomas More Church, Munster, IN with MSGR. Joseph Semanchik celebrating the mass.

Friends may call at the Burns-Kish Funeral Home, 8415 Calumet Ave., Munster on Tuesday, July 27, 2010 from 2:00-8:00 PM. Entombment will be private.

In lieu of flowers, the family requests any memorial contributions in her name be made to a Cancer Research Fund or Carmellite Fathers in Munster. www.burnskish.com

It’s a wonderful obituary. It covers the bases. Her family was always her first and foremost priority. She loved to travel. I do believe some of her happiest years was when she ran her travel agency.

But then there’s the stuff that’s left out.

For instance, I once remember her telling me a story about how Uncle Joe suggested she join some kind of women’s group. (I forget exactly what it was about.)

She did. She gave it a go. She said she lasted one meeting and never went back.

“I didn’t have time for all that nonsense. I saw right away the politics, back-biting, and other shenanigans. I don’t have time for that. I have a family to take care of.”

That sort of surprised me. After all, Joe was so involved in politics. It seemed there lives were one social occasion after another. I figured she’d want to be out there as much as possible making more connections for him.

Not so. She’d pitch in and help in limited ways, but she wasn’t going to head anything up on a permanent basis.

And as for friends, other than her very dear friend Irene, she didn’t really let people get close. She’d let them in a little, but not all the way.

Then there’s the other stuff. Like how she knew how to drive a truck (the moving truck/semi kind of truck, not just a regular ol’ truck). That was mentioned during her funeral mass.

Or her love of golf and the hole in one she made on a course in Palm Beach. She told me that story on our vacation to St. Lucia. Her eyes absolutely lit up with pride. (As well they should have. She’s the only person I’ve ever known personally to make a hole in one!)

Or how, when I once asked her of all the places she’d been, where was her favorite and the one she couldn’t wait to get back to, she responded by stating her home address.

“I love to see the world, but there truly is no place in it like home.”

And her obit certainly doesn’t convey the grace, sass, warmth, wit, style, and elegance she had. Or the way people just couldn’t help smiling and laughing when they were around her. She had that certain kind of magic to just lift people up.

But that picture finally made it hit home she’s gone. I’ll never get to be in my aunt’s enchanting presence ever again. None of that had hit me quite like it had until today seeing her picture

Aunt Alice, thank you so much for all of the love and memories you’ve tucked in my heart. I am missing you so much.

Me and Aunt Alice when she came for my book launch party. Jacksonville, FL 2004

Me and Aunt Alice when she came for my book launch party. Jacksonville, FL 2004

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Beautiful Blogger Award

Posted by: courtin Nonfiction Life
11
Aug

z beautiful blogger

I have been neglecting my poor personal blog again. Quite a while ago (we’re talking months), Jessica at Ghost Stories and Haunted Places was kind enough to pass the Beautiful Blogger Award on to my humble little Court’s Corner.

I decided I needed to hurry up and acknowledge it so I can pass along the award. (Even though I’m positive all the blogs I’m passing it to likely have already received it before.)

At any rate, thanks again, Jessica, for honoring Court’s Corner with such a nice nod.

Now on to the award process…

BEAUTIFUL BLOGGER AWARD RULES

1. Thank the person who gave you this award.
2. Share 7 things about yourself.
3. Pass the award along to 15 bloggers who you have recently discovered and who you think are fantastic!
4. Contact the bloggers you’ve picked and let them know about the award.

I’m doing them a smidge out of order because I was always taught it’s impolite to talk about yourself first. (Never paid much mind to directions though.)

15 BLOGS COURT’S CORNER PASSES THE BEAUTIFUL BLOG AWARD TO:

  1. A Baked Creation
  2. A Fanciful Twist
  3. Above the Norm
  4. Candid Canine
  5. Charli and Me
  6. Cuisine Kathleen
  7. fiberdoodles
  8. Frog on the Pumpkin
  9. Jade Walker’s Oddities
  10. Maggie’s Station Stationery Blog
  11. Marbella Jewelry Designs
  12. Mommy D’s Kitchen
  13. The Random Mind of Miss Julie
  14. The Stiletto Gang
  15. The Whimsical Cottage

7 THINGS ABOUT MYSELF:

  1. I lived with two guys at the same time before I was married. (One was my boyfriend, who later became my husband, a.k.a. Wayne. The other was our gay roommate.)
  2. Part of me regrets not studying meteorology in college. I’m fascinated by the weather. The Weather Channel is definitely one of my faves.
  3. I have some form of IBS. Or something. Basically I carry all my emotions in my gut. If I get upset, too stressed or too excited, so does my tummy. It’s caused more emergency potty stops than I can count, and has put me in some pretty embarrassing situations. It’s why I’m always apprehensive about doing things with people for worry about how my tummy will behave. (Or not behave.)
  4. I’m nuts for games: Wii (any kind of video games really), air hockey, Foosball, word searches, trivia, and especially find the difference between the pictures games.
  5. I’ve always wanted to do a triathlon, but so far have never buckled down to give it a go. (And I’m not talking the Ironman kind Wayne does. I just want to do one of the mini kinds where you swim like 400 yards, bike 12 miles and run 2 or 3 miles.) Maybe I’ll shoot for that in 2011.
  6. I believe I might’ve lived before and am curious about having a past life regression session.
  7. People are always telling me what a great cartoon voice I have. I think it’d be fun to do voice overs for cartoon characters!
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I had several questions for my primary care doc Wednesday besides the “What’s going on with my cycle?” one. My nails keep cracking, and the thumb nail on my right hand keeps splitting. (It’s been doing that for years, but it got real bad like it is now right before I discovered my hitchhiker.) But the biggie was: what’s up with my weight?

I weighed in at 187 in January 2008. That was it, my number that made me say, “Okay, I gotta do something.”

I started exercising more and cutting out the sweets. I dropped to 184. Then I had trouble budging the scale.

I’m not sure when I got down to 177. My mom got sick March 2008 and my life changed into a big, surrealistic, nightmarish blur. I sort of was aware I was eating less. (Because I have a bad tummy that tends to explode at the most inopportune times. I was running all over with my mom, who was so out of it I feared losing her because she’d decide to wander off while I was stuck in a restroom somewhere. Can you just see the headlines? I could. I don’t mind publicity but I don’t want that kind of notoriety!)

Anyway, by the time we took our Alaskan cruise in August of 2008 I was down to 170. And I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I loved it. (I remember a time I almost puked when I saw the scale had reached the 170 mark.)

Not as much as I liked dropping to 160, then 155 thanks to chemo though. BAD way to lose weight, but hey. I had to enjoy something from all that misery, didn’t I?

But once I was off chemo, I sprung right back up to 168. That’s where I was last year for our Cape San Blas 4th of July beach vacation.

The scale has only climbed since. I’m now back to 188.

Yet, I really haven’t changed my diet much. (Well, okay from barely eating during chemo and throwing up pretty much anything I did, yes, that’s changed. But before that, like when I had gotten down to 170, no. My eating is about the same.)

Of course, maybe the cancer was eating up my flub then. That is one of the symptoms. Weight loss. And losing has never been easy for me.

But I do exercise. I walk Murph every day, I play tennis 2-3 times a week, volleyball is about 2 times a week. And sometimes I even walk without Murph. The past week I’ve been sneaking in some swimming too. (With plans to do more.)

Anyway, the doctor said if I’m not getting results I could always try phentermine. Most people have great success with it and lose fast.

Sounds great, except I’m not one to do drugs. I’m not on the pill and never have been because I think it just messes with the body too much. I’m more of a natural kind of girl.

Still, the idea of losing 30 pounds in 3 months with the help of this pill was awfully tempting.

My new plan is to ramp up my exercise and eating healthier regimen. One thing I’ve always sort of wanted to try is a mini-triathlon. I want to see if focusing on something like that, and putting the time in training, will help me drop pounds.

I don’t want to be stick thin. My ideal weight would be 160. If I could get to 150 that would be awesome. For my height I’d still be overweight, but I don’t look it as much at that weight.

Also, my driver’s license is due for renewal this year. I don’t want to look like the happy hippo I’ve been in this other one. I want my 170 face back. (At least. The less of a double chin the better!)

At any rate, I guess it’s good to know about this phentermine stuff in case I get very desperate. But I think I’d rather try a not cheating way first.

So…mini-tri training here I come!

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