Sign the Petition to turn Facebook Teal in September

http://www.causes.com/causes/651059-teal-to-heal-turn-facebook-teal-in-september/actions/1678558

Please link and sign this petition.  It is a petition to ask Facebook to turn their pages Teal in September.

Although Facebook historically has never publicly supported any cancer cause, now is the time.

I have desperately been hunting for a phone number, and none to be found.

I researched the EDGAR database http://www.sec.gov/cgi-bin/browse-edgar?company=Facebook&match=&CIK=&filenum=&State=&Country=&SIC=&owner=exclude&Find=Find+Companies&action=getcompany

Here are their public documents.  In their initial filings, they are listed as TheFacebook, Inc with a phone number of 914-646-8593. That number is no longer available.

The recent filings show an address of
1601 Willow Road
Menlo Park, CA  94025

650-543-4800  (editors note, I finally found correct number and called and left a message)

I searched online for the Seattle office location, and found the article referencing the new building.  I have sent the Seattle Facebook Page a message.  I have sent many messages to Mark Zuckerberg.

It is going to take much more effort here just to talk to any live person!  I need a wrecking ball to break down the communications barriers.

Please sign the petition or mail Facebook the petition on Teal paper to add your name to the cause.  We need to flood their offices with requests.

The deadline is just a few days from now and I will do what I can to find a local address.

I apologize, as I am not a professional marketing person, but with your help, I can keep going!!!!

I am in treatment right now, and family matters do take up time, but this is very important.  My life would not be facing such uncertainty if I had been aware of ovarian cancer several years ago.

Thousands of women suffer great pain during this cancer journey, and it can be less traumatic if caught in the early stages.  When caught in the early stages, the 5 year survival rate is 90% or more.

I am not taking donations.  We are asking for time, and that is more precious than dollars.  Your time is more valuable now than ever if you have cancer or any other chronic severe health condition.  Your time will help save the life of another.

It may cost Facebook a few pennies to reprogram the colors of their pages, and add a message and a link to raise awareness, but think of how much of an impact that could make....your loved one may be saved.

Little girls can get ovarian cancer.......so much needs to be done!

I know I am begging but I'm not too proud to beg.....and other organizations that are promoting the same thing, please amp up your requests!!!!!!!!!!!

Love,
Denise Archuleta

Chemo dreams are bizarre

I entered this dark multi level home that looked like what you envision as a play house, only real.  All the floors are stacked and open, so you can see each room.  One super long straight stairway started from the bottom floor and went straight to the top floor, bypassing all the other floors.  I think the building has 4 or 5 levels.  None of the lower levels were any of my business as my duties were waiting for me at the top level. 

The room had a lot of iron décor, black and white tiles, and was probably only 5 foot wide by 20 feet long.  With one long side completely exposed, you could see all the appliances in the kitchen. The coal stove, paired with a brand new stainless steel refrigerator.  A porcelain sink below a basket of fruit.  Off to the side a wooden chopping block and a blender.  

To my left was my boss, an elderly heavy set woman with very dark hair.  She ordered me to melt a bag of chocolate chips.  As I started the melting pot, she instructed me to mix some kind of dough together on the countertop.  Her tone was that of a drill sergeant, barking out orders for each little detail of the recipe.  I had rolled the dough into a perfect circle and suddenly she said, “I am ready for the chips NOW!”  So I poured the chips partially melted onto the dough, rolled them into the dough and she shushed me away. Like a pig she just started eating it right off the counter with her hands.  I didn’t move, I just stood there and watched.

When she was done feeding, she gave me orders on how to manage the building.  She was very explicit about the maintenance of the pools, and that they were to be impeccable clear blue.  While she was speaking the house started to turn into a huge massive complex of apartments. 

The structure is enormous, at least 10 stories high, in a perfect square with an open center.  The brick was the color of a deep purple, very sleek and clean.  Off of each level projects an elevated pool, one for each area or apartment.  These pools are a marvel, no support underneath, an architectural feat.  Think cantilever. Looking down on them you see a flower of rectangular shaped basins of deep blue water, inviting and refreshing. 

I felt overwhelmed at the task, managing men who would be risking their lives to maintain these pools because of how they are suspended in air.  With each word of direction a new man appeared in my sight, showing up ready to do his job.  She introduced me to them one by one, but they did not look me in the eye.  They just walked away.

My boss disappears from my view and suddenly the skies turn dark and swirling clouds appear and lightening storms are off in the distance, quickly approaching the complex.  I run from floor to floor to pool to pool to warn the men that they need to get out of the water. They must hurry because lightening is coming fast, they will die!  I can see them now swimming in the pools mocking me, as if I am over-reacting to the impending storm.  They can only see the sky, they cannot see over the building to view the horizon.

With a crackle and boom our bodies jump as a bolt strikes one of the pools.  Luckily no person was in it but this causes all of the pools to shake and turn a deep green color.  The pools are reflections of the skies overhead.  The pools rock back and forth; there are dozens of them on just one level.  Water is flowing over the sides of the pools and I run screaming to the ground floor level. The men are yelling and scrambling to get out of the water. I run to an elevator to get to the main level.

I can see people using the indoor pools on the main level through the glass, and they are screaming trying to get out of the water. We are under attack in this storm.  I am looking for a place to hide and somehow I find myself at a reception desk that towers over me.  Literally I am looking up the nose of some skinny boy with glasses who directs me to the shopping area.  He was not fazed by the storm, just doing his job. 

I find myself in a shoe section fascinated with a pair of red maryjanes.  All the shoes are on sale for $7.99.  I want the red ones, with a soft red leather surface that sports a tiny little flower on the top near the toes.  I love these shoes.  I look and look and look and look for a matching pair.  I can only find mismatched sizes, and only one that fits, not two.  I am disappointed because these are perfect shoes.

A sales woman appears and shows me another pair slightly different. They are a more delicate shoe with a silvery purple finish that looks sort of dressy.  I agree to take them and as soon as I buy them I put them on my feet. Before my eyes they turn from a classy delicate shoe into a pair of handmade knit booties, like what you would see on a newborn.  They went from a beautiful shiny color to knitted pink.  Not a pretty pink, but a muted sort of purple pink, dulled.  They seemed old and used.

Then my phone rang and I woke up………………

Chemo dreams are bizarre......I am still waiting for nausea to pass.  Got very sick the other night....ugh.  Hate that.  I wonder what I will dream tonight.

Chemo dreams..the pull

I opened the closet door, and neatly stacked up on the shelf were antique lunch boxes, three up and four across.  These belonged to my brother, I said to myself.  They were all colors of the rainbow, and although I could not see the  box images, I knew they were of super heroes or race car drivers and their cars.  I closed the folding doors to the closet in a gentle way and smiled.  As I am closing the doors I can literally feel the carpet's resistance and the squeak of the doors.  I can smell mom and dad's clothes, the cologne, the laundry soap.  But they weren't there, just the lunch boxes.

We are in Arvada, Colorado, a nice little neighborhood and our house has a unique layout. The main floor has stairs to the top floor and to the basement.  12 steps each way.  The top floor master bedroom has doors that open over the living room.  

I am standing in the master bathroom.  I can see the black and ivory tiles along the wall.  The black counter top, the walk in shower with black tile and glass doors.  I am standing at the door looking in and find myself peering up towards the top of the door hinges. To my dismay I see the biggest roundest ugliest brown spider ever.  It is dangling along the inside of the door, smiling at me, daring me to move so that it can jump on me.  Frozen I call out to my brother, and he comes running.  

He looks at it and laughs, and looks at me and laughs harder.  Its just a toy, he says and bounces it up and down on it's string.  It looked so real, so ready to bite, so Alive!  I watch my brother toss it around like a baseball, and take off into the mist.  I am still standing there, and I see more spiders.  Little black spiders, nestled inside the door hinges, hiding, hoping I will leave so that they can go about their business.  I look and look and look and decide I've had my fill.  I leave.

I wander into a large room where all the men are sleeping. This room was not in our house, it's one I've never seen before.  It looks like the shape of the top of a barn.  Real long, lots of space. Dad is curled up on a tiny bed, covered from head to toe.  My brother is curled up on a huge bean bag, covered from head to toe.  My sister's husband is sleeping on a cot, no covers, out like a light.  My little nephew appears and he smiles and then asks his daddy to take him out......and my brother takes his hand and they walk away.  I stand there and feel calmness from the sleepy energy. The image fades.

Next I find myself in the basement of a different house and I am being told that I need to make telemarketing phone calls by one of the worst land lords I ever had in my life.  Agh.  She is standing over me like a Nazi in heels, with a horse whip.  In front of me is a laptop, a headset and a dingy desk. My tiny desk is more like a piece of particle board situated on some sort of saw horse.  I have a metal folding chair for comfort and the exquisite lighting is supplied by a single bulb dangling from an electrical outlet.  The studs are exposed and behind me are stacked tool boxes and other things you might find in a basement.  It feels dirty.

The computer auto dials some woman whom I convince to come over for an estimate on wall coverings.  She shows up and without confidence I ask her questions about her home and about what styles of drapery and blinds does she prefer. The woman is heavy set, wearing a blue jacket.  She has short gray hair, and a scowl on her face. She glares at me with each answer and when we are done she walks out of the cramped little room into another room that looks like a diner.  The diner seats look of a maroon vinyl, are back to back with silver ridged tables in between.  

I follow her and suddenly she is sitting next to another sales person from another company, and this other sales person had created a mock up of her new living room on the computer, priced out the job and was ready to leave.  I felt like this other sales person had invaded my house. So I asked the customer if she had agreed to let the other woman do the work and she shook her head no.  I then went in the back of the room where my dingy desk sits.  I found the interior designer and asked him to go talk to her and he did.  I then went over and asked her if she liked him, and she did, and than I said that he was a professional and would do a fantastic job for her.  She half smiled and left.

Next thing I know I am being taken upstairs by Miss Nazi to the dining room.  The room is straight out of the 1950's and the fabrics are a blueish green, not exactly teal, but a little bluer.  You can see the diamond patterns in the couch stitching.  Some pieces are still covered in plastic.  At the head of the table is a very overweight man, balding, older, wearing a ratty white t-shirt and black pants.  He is unshaven sporting a finely crafted toothpick from the corner of his mouth.

He asks me if I want the job.  He says it's all commission and we pay "nice".  Good bonuses.  Suddenly the blue dining room turned into an old hardware store, and plumbing supplies were displayed all along the wall.  This man continues on saying I would be the reason his business grows.  He said tell everybody if they need something they can get it at "Guys place".

Chemo dreams.........................every night it's like this.  And they are so colorful and so strong.  The pull keeps me in my dream, I cannot wake up.  I sleep so much when on chemo and my dreams are so vivid.