Category Archives: life lessons

{Go Red For Women} A Thriving Survivor #IsWhy

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I have no problem walking into the capital building and speaking to legislators. Send me to D.C. and I will spread the message to congress that research is the key to a healthy tomorrow. Speaking to strangers, is no big deal. I love talking to folks about heart healthy policies and the importance of medical research. Using my voice to change your tomorrow makes me ok with the fact that I cannot undo the past. It allows me to be ok with having a stroke and a pulmonary embolism. Mostly using my voice has allowed me to heal and come into my own as a survivor.

survival

Every year at the Go Red Luncheon they hold a casting call to find the Spokeswoman for next years campaign. I sat down in front of the green screen just for fun and never thought in a million years that they would pick me. Pick me to be a part of the 2014-2015 Go Red for Women campaign. I got the email in early June and I was excited, nervous but very excited. I almost talked myself out of the opportunity. The email came on the heels of my neck surgery and I was still out of sorts. I wasn’t going to let a swollen neck and illness stand in my way of making a difference. With the support of my family and friends, I said yes and hit send.

Billboard

At the photo shoot I got to meet an amazing group of ladies. We went around the room introducing ourselves and sharing our stories. All of us have been touched by heart disease and stroke. Most were survivors and others lost a love one to heart disease. In that moment I didn’t feel like an oddity, in this room I belonged and they understood my heart healthy journey. In this room Life was Why. All of us faced uncertainty and the cards they were stacked against us, but we chose to thrive.

go red

Thriving means sharing your story and educating the women around us. In away we are pioneers, we went through the worst day possible, picked up and moved on. On to tell an amazing tale that leaves you questioning your own heart health. I was 26 years old, just 5 days shy of my 27th birthday when I had a massive pulmonary embolism with infarction and a stroke. My only risk factor was that I was taking a hormonal contraceptive. Until that moment I had no idea that the Nuva Ring or any birth control for that matter could almost take my life. To me birth control was harmless and it never crossed my mind that it could be deadly. Birth control increases a women’s risk for blood clots and stroke. This, this fact is the very reason I chose to share my story. I do not want another woman to endure my fate, knowledge is power and being your own healthcare advocate is the key to survival.

Bus stop

“A Second Chance Is Why, I Go RED”

We have all had that moment where we wished we could have a second chance to make things right, to live a little more, and to love with all of our hearts. I do not have to wish, because I am living my second chance. Five borrowed years and counting. I almost died 5 days before my 27th birthday, I got the greatest gift that year, I got the gift of life. A second chance to make my mark on this world. A second chance that allowed me to carry a child. My son’s feet never touched the ground yet he made one hell of an impact as wings were placed on his shoulders. Divorce, no one said second chances were perfect. I filed eight months after my stroke and I moved out on independence day.

I got a second chance to fall in love with myself and to come into my own as a young stroke survivor. I rented my very first apartment, adopted a dog, changed jobs, and started dating. In order for me to find love I had to heal my surviving heart. I had to come to terms with the fact that I was broken, that I would never be able to have a child of my own, and that I wasn’t always going to be there cup of tea. It takes a special type of man to love a woman with a surviving heart. Charlie, was my shooting star. He would always tell me “babe I am so glad I get to be your second chance love.” Fate stepped in and took him out before I got to say I do. My surviving heart broke the day he died.

Yet I persevered and continued my mission of educating women about the dangerous side effects of hormonal contraceptives and propelling heart healthy policies forward. I held my niece in my arms and promised her that she will grow up in a healthier tomorrow. I buried myself in my work and watched the world melt around me. Only to realize that I wasn’t living every moment of my second chance to the fullest. With time my heart healed and I dusted off my dating shoes. Fate, she likes to mess with me and love it eluded me. That is until one snowy November day it walked right up to me and as they say the rest is history. Finally! My second chance at this thing we call life is shaping up to be a beautiful disaster and I could not be happier.

It’s not just a man’s disease. Heart disease and stroke kill 1 in 3 women, yet it’s 80% preventable.

{Hearts On 22} Scales Are For The Birds

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I have never been one to follow the crowd or listen to critics. I rather stay in the woods and join the teddy bear picnic. Society tells me I am fat and that I should change. Change, means losing weight and striving to be there kind of beautiful.

There kind of beautiful is not my kind of beautiful. I’m not exactly fat, some call me fit. Others, well they just call me fluffy. Society wants me to be ashamed of my tits, my hips, my stomach, my ass, and my curves that go on for days. Once I was ashamed, I strived and I tried to be skinny. But, skinny wasn’t me, we didn’t work out and I put my size 14 jeans back on.

My size 14 ass has seen a lot of shit. When I look in the mirror I see curves with a dash of strength and a twist of determination. My body, she is powerful and she is amazing. She has never let me down. She beat the odds to walk another day. Scars are stories that left an imprint on your soul. My scars, shit I’ve got more than I can count. The newest one is a really cool neck scar and it is a reminder to always fight for answers.

Answers never come easy and sometimes you kind of wish you stayed in the woods. People stare at my scar, they look me up and down when they find out I had a stroke and lord they hit the floor when they find out I have a son in heaven. We are never told that sometime the fairytale sucks and that shit gets deep. Life isn’t fair and we are never prepared for the short deck. Yet we must always play the hand we are dealt and love the only body we will ever have.

My body is beautiful. Beautiful because it carries my surviving heart from place to place. I will never be a model, a hottie or hell even a heartthrob. I am simple and unexpected, and someone out there cannot get enough of my kind of beautiful.

Rock what the good lord gave you, put down that diet book, throw out your scale, and girl start loving yourself! Strength and determination are fucking sexy and they look good on YOU! Girl, you are not a bird, stop eating like one and enjoy food. As in really enjoy your life and have a little fun along the way. Kiss a stranger, dance in the rain, be daring, and never ever give up on your sweet self!

{Go Red} The Story of A Woman’s Heart Is Why

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IMG_6414-1When people find out that I had a stroke, they look at me like I have an infinite amount of wisdom. Wisdom,
Ha I am only 32 years wise and there are things I will never begin to understand. I, I am just a small town girl who had a stroke and some how I get to do big things.

If you would have told me five years ago that I would get to participate in a photo shoot and a PSA commercial to raise awareness of heart disease and stroke in women. I would of probably giggled and said “you’re nuts!” But here I am, it’s been five years and I am thriving. Brave doesn’t describe it, I am baring my soul for the public good. I am putting a face to a horrible experience.

Yet on the same coin, I am raising awareness that strokes can and do happen to perfectly healthy young women. That birth control has and does cause serious life altering side effects. I am raising awareness that, before the affordable care act, young women like me couldn’t afford health insurance. We put off going to the doctor because it was expensive. Now I truly can put my health and mostly my heart first.

I love with all of my surviving heart and I do not back down from challenges. Because I, I survived the worst day possible. I am more than a stroke, I am more than the collateral damage Merck accounted for, I am more than a survivor, I am a woman with a vibrant heart. I am first and for most a mother to my son in heaven and a mama to a Muppet like dog. I am an Aunt, a Daughter, a Sister, a Friend, and a Girlfriend. I am many things and I play many roles, yet survivor is one that I will never give up.

I am proof that every horrible situation has a silver lining. Six months after my Stroke I found out I was pregnant with my son. My heart was full and I felt vindicated. That somehow God still believed in me and that good still existed in this world. Even thou Lucia never took a breath, he is my greatest joy. He is the reason I do what I do and I want him to be proud of his Mama on earth.

My P.E./Stroke and death of my son were not the end of my horrible bad days. They were just the beginning and those moments of utter disaster gave me the strength I needed to put myself first and walk out of a loveless marriage. Eight months after I had my pulmonary embolism and stroke I filed for divorce. Surviving taught me to listen to my heart and to put myself first. A woman’s heart will never steer her wrong.

It’s been almost five years since my divorce was finalized and I have never looked back. I had to come into my own and figure out who I was. Surviving is only half the battle. One cannot simply just survive, they need to thrive. Once you start to thrive, you start living again. I rented my very first apartment, adopted a dog, changed jobs, found myself, and started dating. I’ve had my moments where I swore to myself that I would be single forever, only to be swept of my feet. Love it eluded me, but I finally caught it with my butter fly net! Its an amazing feeling to be in love with a man who loves every inch of my surviving heart!

I own everything that has happened to me. This is the story of my heart and I would not trade it for anything in this world. It’s mine, I have loved every moment of this beautiful disaster that I call “my life.”

But mostly, I have spent the past five years encouraging women to be their best health care advocate. Encouraging women to be brave, to go against the grain, and mostly to fight for themselves. The moment we give up and give in, is the moment we lose hope. No woman deserves to fight alone, all of us are in this together until the bitter end.

{Thankful} 1 day out of 365

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Giving thanks for one day out of three-sixty-five just seems plain old silly to me. I wake up each morning with a thankful surviving heart and give props when they are due.

I am thankful for:

The American Heart Association – Minnesota
Heart
Without the American Heart Association my Father and I would not be standing. Because of their dedication to a world without heart disease and stroke, we were saved. The AHA is lobbying for heart healthy policies, raising funds for life saving research, and giving all of us a chance at tomorrow. The American Heart Association #IsWhy. The AHA gave me a platform to share my story and by using my voice I am changing our tomorrow for the better.

Earlier in the year I was diagnosed with an autoimmune/auto inflammatory disease. I am sick with a disease that doesn’t even have a name. My immune system no longer has an off switch and my body has declared war on itself. Test showed that I had high C-Reactive Protein and with my family history I am destined for Congestive Heart Failure. I have a 95% chance of following in my Daddy’s footsteps. My Pulmonary Embolism and stroke were a fluke, but this, this was all ready written in the cards. I am not worried nor am I scared, because I know the American Heart Association is fighting for my tomorrow. They are raising funds for critical research that will one day save my life. And for that I am incredibly thankful.

“My Mama and Pete aka my Dad”

Photo by: Stephanie Ryan Photography

Photo by: Stephanie Ryan Photography


My Parents are my greatest cheerleaders. Together we faced the unknown, fought the good fight, and with faith in our hearts we saw a better day. My Father is a 13 year congestive heart failure survivor and my Mama is one tough cookie. She takes care of my dad, sets up his pills, drives him to the Mayo, and without her he would not be alive. She puts her needs aside to care for the man that fathered her daughters. My Mama does it without question, she is an extremely giving soul that doesn’t know how to quit. Because she cared, because she loves him, my Dad got to see his daughters graduate college, get married and divorced, he stood by my side as I recovered from a stroke, he said hello and goodbye to his first grandchild, and got to hold his second in his arms. Because of My Mama, my Daddy is living the life that dreams are made of.

Sophia

Photo by: Stephanie Ryan Photography

Photo by: Stephanie Ryan Photography


There are no words to describe my love for this little girl. I fell in love with Sophia the moment I laid eyes on her. Connected our souls are and she will always be a light in my life. Watching her grow and come into her own has been a great joy. Hearing her voice whisper into my ear, her I love yous, and her “Hi Auntie Mannies” never get old. Sophia has my heart and I have hers. Auntie is the greatest title I have ever been given and everything I do is for her healthy tomorrow.

Cullen aka The Muppet Like Dog

Photo by: Stephanie Ryan Photography

Photo by: Stephanie Ryan Photography


Those who say “a dog cannot bring you happiness,” have never owned a dog. This little white ball of muppet like fur has brought so much joy, love, and laughter into my life. Cullen has been my trusty little side kick, my confidant, my fashion critic, and mostly the best four legged friend a girl could ever ask for. He and I are as thick as thieves. Mama and Muppet together forever and ever.

Divorced Life
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Yes, I am thankful for my crazy Divorced Life that is a beautiful disaster that even I could never have imagined. Life, it didn’t pass me by, instead it was patiently waiting for me. Waiting for me to find my way and to come into my own. My life, it has been far from easy. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Because in the end it is my beautiful story and no one else can live my words. No one else can love the way I do, fall flat like I do, and no one, no one can contain my passion for living like I do.

I have fallen in and out of love and said goodbye more times than I care to count. It seems that God needs my friends more than I do. They are now apart of the stars that I place my wishes on. All of the women who lost their lives due to complications from the Nuva Ring are the reason I do what I do, Because I know if they were given the chance they would gladly take my seat on earth and continue the good fight. I owe every moment of my messy divorced life to the four people who died so I could be the one to live another day.

To live another day on my never ending quest to find love. Love is a dream that I have been chasing. I want a second chance to prove to the world that I AmandaJean can have a successful marriage. For a little while Charlie made that dream come true. God he had other plans for him and I was left with a broken heart. I gave myself time, breathed in the loss, and looked to the stars. Those stars lit my way and I can finally say I have found someone who loves my kind of crazy. Who appreciates my honesty, my ability to live in the emotionally raw and one who is intrigued by my wit. For the first time in four years, I am truly happy. I feel like my old self and my heart is bursting with more joy than one soul can handle.

I am thankful for fate, for she has finally smiled upon me.

{Hurt} Whiskey with a twist of lime

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A Colorado number flashed across the screen, having no idea who it was I hit decline call. The number it kept calling and a voicemail was left. It was Steve, he was in town on business and wanted to catch up. Steve was Charlie’s associate, together they wore their white hats and fought for justice. I haven’t seen Steve since 2012, he met me at The Butcher and the Boar, being a partner has aged him, yet his smile was still the same.

He spotted me and came running over, the man gives good hugs. He asked “do you still drink the same?” Yes I said, my whiskey on the rocks with a twist of lime was ordered and our waitress lead us to our table. Steve talked about his new cases, life as a partner, and mostly how he realized that he could never fill Charlie’s shoes. Agriculture Business Law is a tough game, but the payoff and recognition are worth the long hours. We talked about the big three, GMOs, and seed copyrights. Boring to some but highly entertaining to me.

Steve loves to tell me stories about Charlie. Stories of how Charlie had to search every town and airport for a candy shop to bring me strangely shaped gummy candies. Steve quickly caught on to the silly tradition and helped Charlie in his search. Eye balls, that was the strangest thing they ever found for me and the eye balls were so life like I refused to eat them. They are still in my freezer to this day.

With our bellies full of animals and other deliciousness we set out for a walk on the chilly Minneapolis streets. The Spoon bridge glistened under the lights, I paused for a moment, and allowed myself to remember how much Charlie liked the sculpture. Steve noticed that I paused and asked “what’s going through that head of yours.” Nothing I said. He looked at me grabbed my shoulders and put his forehead to mine and said “I’ve read your blog I know, I know you are hurting.” Full on in public ugly cry, yup I am a cryer and it just all came out. Steve smiled and said “a wise man once told me that board games and whiskey can solve all of life’s problems.”

I’ve heard those words numerous times and they brought me comfort. I walked Steve back to the W and was going to head home, He stopped me and said come up to my room for a second. I laughed and said no I am good, the dog he needs me. Steve wasn’t taking no for an answer, so I amused him and followed. Up in the room he repeated “a wise man once told me that board games and whiskey can solve all of life’s problems.” He pulled Checkers out of his suitcase, a bottle of whiskey from a brown bag and two Dixie cups.

I took of my coat and proclaimed, “I get to be red and I get to go first.” Deal! With each checker moved my BFF breakup and crappy October melted into the board. Steve listened carefully and interjected when necessary. Through others I was able to see that Gopher Guy was my bottom and I, I can do better. Steve said to me “you deserve someone who is going to stand up and change the status quo and not please the masses.” Those words made me smile. Steve was right, I deserve someone who is going to vouch for me and protect me. Not someone who tucks me in their pocket and keeps me a secret from their friends. I don’t want to be someone’s secret pocket friend or girlfriend for that matter. I am never going to be someone’s pocket friend or pocket crush again. If you like me own it and who gives a fuck what people think. Just remember no one ever erected a statute to a critic.

Charlie was somewhat right, board games and whiskey can’t create world peace, however they do provide a much needed distraction from life. A couple games of Checkers and Steve’s perspective were exactly what I needed.

{Divorced Life} Emotions In My Pocket

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The above quote has kept me going on my toughest days. At the end of the day we are all just little nuts trying to hold our ground. What we do with that ground is what matters. What matters is that we hold steady in the winds of change and stay true to who we are when the storms end.

My life has been anything but easy and there are moments where I look up and say “why me?” I didn’t choose this life, it chose me. I am the human Bermuda Triangle and I always brace myself for hurricanes. I have built up walls to hide the hurt and to keep people out. My heart it’s been broken and patched a time or two. I am afraid that if I put it out there it will get sucked right back into the triangle.

Survivor, that’s a term I hear over and over again. I want to be more than a survivor. I want to be more than a grieving mother, friend and fiancé. I want to be more than broken. Broken is what people see when they look at me. I am strong and mighty on the outside, but on the inside its a different story. I live with one foot in the now and one in the past. Emotions, I am not good at dealing with them. I tuck them in my back pocket and march on.

I cannot out run my emotions, or the heart ache, or the fact that I survived, and definitely not my past. In order to move on I need to face the very things that made me who I am. I need to embrace the very things that terrify me and to realize that I too am human. I, I need to face my shit and deal with my neatly pocketed emotions.

When I deal with the past, face the ugly, and own my shit I will be able to face myself. I want to have healthy long lasting relationships. I want to actually connect with a man on a deep you know all my secrets kind of level, and to stop pushing my dearest friends away when I feel they are to close.

Year 32 is going to be the year of been there, done that, and I owned my shit. It’s not going to be easy, yet I am not scared. My family and friends are cheering me on and all of them think owning my shit is a good idea.

After all in five short years I had a stroke, lost a child, got a divorce, lost friends, fell in love, lost my fiancé, got sick, and yea the list goes on………. It’s time to face all of those things and to deal with the emotions of the past. I am finally ready to face what’s in my back pocket and mostly I am ready to face myself.

{Family} #NotYourMascot

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MascotWhen I walk onto a Reservation I do not have to drop my pedigree, some how they just know that I belong. I am a biracial girl growing up in a one color world. History has taught us that the “n word” isn’t cool yet its still ok to shout out “RED SKINS” on game day. No one bats an eye when Native American imagery is used in a harmful light, they scoff when we ask them to stop, and they they just don’t change. The American Indian is the personal punching bag of the American people and it will remain socially acceptable until we say NO MORE!

NO MORE! The time is now to rise up and fight for ourselves. Tomorrow thousands of full bloods, half breeds, friends, and supporters will unite as one. As one in a never ending battle to protect our heritage. I am and will always be more than the color of my skin. I am more than my blood quantum. I have three hundred years of history running through my veins, the blood of warriors, chiefs, and adventures. The past it carries me and it drives me to make a difference. I owe it to my 4X great grandparents to continue their fight and to carry out their dream of a better day.

Chief Sky Woman and Bazile rest on Madeline Island. I am lucky, I can visit the graves of my 4X great grandparents. I lay tobacco down and thank them for engraving the unwavering desire for change into our family tree. For daring those that came before me to follow their hearts and to make it in this world. My heart it always leads me to the Reservation where fry bread, coffee and stories are at the ready. I love hearing the stories of my elders, watching the ladies bead, and the sound of the drums bring me to tears.

Red Skin is a term tied to assimilation, elimination and re-organization of the American Indian. My family was doing all right until the assimilation period. Geneva Grace refused to sell her land in the name of progress. She wanted to raise her children where she was raised and to remain on her lake front property. The church they had a different idea and while she was away the scooped up my Grandfather and his siblings. The officials told Geneva that they would give her $10 and a ticket to Minneapolis if she signed over the deed. She took it and when she arrived in the city she was told ‘your children died in transport.”

Geneva never gave up hope, she didn’t believe the lies they told her. Out of survival she remarried a soldier and made do. Her daughter June was sent to Arizona, Walter to California, and Clifford to Lake City. Clifford is where my story starts, he is the reason I am on this earth. He was “adopted” by a German couple, they gave him everything and raised him as their child instead of a servant. When he was 18 his “adopted” father confessed and told him that he was bought, that he was an Indian and told him his real last name. That name was his ticket to the past, his tan skin lead him to Prairie Island. Bit by bit his story came together. He took solitude in the bottle, comfort in the bar, and became a broken Indian with a past to hard to bare.

When my Grandfather was an old man a letter came from one Geneva Cox. The letter simply said “I am your mother.” Geneva never gave up hope that her children were alive, Clifford was the only one she ever got to see again. Shortly after the reunion she died. Assimilation tore my family apart, but we refused to be beat down and the postal service brought us back together again with one letter. Geneva is and will always be apart of my families story. My Great Grandmother has been apart of me since the day I was born, Geneva is my middle name. This was my Dad’s way of honoring the past and bringing our family full circle.

Full Circle is when fate brought me to college in the north land. My last name gave me away and the director of the First Nations Studies program took me under his wing. He told me stories of the past, taught me my culture, and mostly he helped me figure out who I am. With professor Johnson’s help I claimed my heritage and came into my own as a biracial woman. I am not one color, but many colors and for that I will always be grateful. College is where I took up the fight to propel Indian Education and Cultural issues forward. I have been fighting to end the use of Native American Mascots and to end Columbus Day for a very long time. The issues at hand are near and dear to my heart.
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An Eagle feather is the highest honor an Indian can receive, Professor Johnson gave me my first and since then I have been given one more. Charlie’s family gave me the second one on the day of his funeral. Charlie was honored with the Eagle Feather because he fought tooth and nail to better the lives of his people. In the eyes of his tribe he was a warrior and they honored his death by celebrating his life. Charlie was Mohican and Ojibway, he loved his heritage and the “Red Skin” name made his blood boil. He believed in a day where he would no longer be judged by the color of his skin, but by his legal wit. Tomorrow I will march in honor of my ancestors, Geneva, Clifford and for Charlie’s dream. I will carry out his dream of living in a better day where the color of ones skin no longer matters. Because I am more than White, I am more than a Red Skin, I am more than an Indian, I am more than a half breed, I am AmandaJean and I am not your mascot!

{Hurt} Collateral Damage

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“MAY THE BRIDGES I BURN LIGHT THE WAY”

My past is lined with burned bridges and collateral damage. I am not an easy person to get to know or to even love. Damaged, yea you could say that. My life its a beautiful disaster and those closest to me end up being the ones I hurt the most.

Never in a million years did I think Gopher Guy would become my collateral damage. I have no idea what made Gopher Guy fall for me, I am far from perfect and the complete opposite of him. It became clear that he wasn’t going to see the light and that his new found love is faker than imitation perfume. Old habits die hard, he still acted like there was a chance and he made me feel like he was still interested. Our friendship was built on witty banter and flirting. Deep down I knew I couldn’t be stuck in some weird emotional love triangle and for him to be fully with her I had to let go.

I only know how to let go one way and that is by burning a bridge. He met me by the now dry government center fountains. Part of me was hoping that he wouldn’t show, but he did. In that moment I wanted him to hurt as much as he hurt me. As my words flowed into his mind, his kind eyes faded, his expression went from nice to nothing, and he was shaking. I did exactly what I set out to do and in that moment he let me go.

I’ve burned more bridges than I can count, this time it was different and instead of feeling nothing, I feel a tiny bit of regret. Yet, on the same coin I know that his feelings for me were not real. Gopher Guy never got into the deep with me and he only knows a piece of me. He met me when I was broken and saw me at my worst, but he never got to enjoy my best. He spent the past 3 years chasing me and I ran like hell. I told him I loved him, it was on April Fools day and 19 days later I said I can’t deal. His friends, they hate me because they had to deal with the aftermath of that burning.

But did they really deal? No they didn’t they just kept on checking his pulse to make sure he was alive as he drowned his sorrows in a bottle of liquor. Real friends, take the bottle out of your hand and make you face your shit. Your friends just let you hang on to that bottle and stood by and watched you fall. You cannot blame me for that night because I didn’t put the bottle in your hand, I didn’t tell you to drink your pain away. I’ve heard your recollection of April 20, 2012 more times than I can count. Did it ever cross your mind that someone did exactly that, except they got into a car, and took charlie away from me. It wasn’t you that did it, but someone just like you did. Life is hard liquor does nothing to cure the pain it only numbs it until the morning comes.

Your friends they still hate me. You had three years to clear my name and never made that attempt. You never told them that my fiance had died the day before your birthday party. That I only came because I made a promise. I am a woman of my word, even thou I was dying inside I put on a smile and tried to deal. Being in a bar that night was not the place for me and meeting your slightly intoxicated friends was a bad idea. I knew the moment they met me that they didn’t like me, I nursed a glass of water the whole night instead of throwing back beer and shots. I was physically there at your table, yet my mind was trying to remember if I grabbed everything I wanted for Charlie’s casket. Dinner was over, you went to the strippers and I went my separate way. That was the one and only time I have seen your friends. I got one shot and if I had known that they would be petty bastards, I never would have come to your party. Tell your friends to grow the fuck up and not to be so judgmental.

You failed me. As my friend it was your job to vouch for me and to defend me. You never did that. For three years you let your friends hate the ground I walk on. Hell, even today they probably still hate me. My Daddy tells me that “hate” is a disease and that only a tormented soul has room for hate. So your friends must be broken. Yup, they are broken. They hide behind their mental health, sex therapy, and who knows what else degrees they have to make themselves feel all right. I am human, I am not perfect and I cannot be fake. What you see is what you get. My opinion is never quiet. I may be small but I will use the voice God gave me and I will defend myself.

They say it takes a broken soul to know one. When I look into your eyes I see someone who has been discounted and passed up their entire life. Someone who was judged by the size of his waist line and not his wit. Girls, they never gave you a thought and you were always the friend never the leading man. When I first met you I shook your hand, you looked me up and down with a smile. I knew right then and there that you had fallen. I don’t know why but you did and I was ok with that. When I looked at you I didn’t see a large man, I saw your heart.

Gopher Guy I never paid attention to your outside, your kindness, dedication, unwavering work ethic and wit is what attracted me to you. Your heart is what won me over. You are someone I could trust, you dared to put me in my place, only to apologize minutes later for doing so. You constantly challenged me, made me laugh until I cried, kept me from face planting into mud puddles and you believed in me. For some unknown reason you believed in me with all of your heart and I didn’t know how to deal.

I thought you would always be there. It’s partly my fault I encouraged you to date and to put yourself out there. Orchestra hall, that night I felt the pull and I knew at that moment I had to go for it. Yet I didn’t. I was going to but over dinner you told me about Goodwill and preacher girl. (2 girls at once?! Whoa I created a monster!) Always know that Orchestra hall is the night I fell in love with you all over again. That was the night that sealed the deal. That was the night I realized that I still loved you.

Fate kept the manhuman in Minnesota. He was suppose to leave in July. The job it fell through and he moved in. (Bad idea I know) Someone was looking out for me as it didn’t work and I asked him to leave. I didn’t want to be that girl who leaped into another mans arms right after she left the arms of another. I had to let the socially acceptable time period expire. You, you put on the full court press the moment you found out the Manhuman was gone. You invited me to dinner more times than I can count, told me that I meant the world to you, and that I was the one you wanted. I eluded you and gave you half answers. I was afraid of letting you down and mostly I was afraid that I wouldn’t live up to the woman you saw in me. In my mind you deserved more than a broken surviving heart and I, I sold myself short. While I was waiting for the expiration date Goodwill girl stepped up her game. She grabbed you the day I was going to lay my cards down.

My steal, went down in flames. I fought hard for you and you didn’t want anything to do with me. 3.5 years of history meant nothing to you. I wasn’t shiny and new. I didn’t desperately chase you like she did. Goodwill girl loves beer, going to games and music. That is what you are building a relationship on. Take it from someone whose been divorced, that’s not enough. The shiny will fade, the beer you can only drink so much before you bank account dips, and when that runs out she will be moving on. Fairy tales tell us that you go for the one who fights for you and not the one who loses her shoe.

I fought hard for you and you didn’t care. You said things, did things, and crossed lines that should never have been crossed. You never once apologized for your actions and words. In your mind what you were doing was all right and you said a prayer to make it all better. Yet, you hurt the one girl you never thought you would hurt. I needed you to feel what I was feeling. I needed you to feel deceived, mislead, and used. Then and only then would you understand what you put me through. The difference between you and I is that I own my shit. Only apart of what I told you was true. Play you I did. The bridge I burned it and the answers are on my side of the river. You can fester and pray all you want for the answers, they won’t come to you because only I know what the two lies and one truth are.

Hurt? Yes I am and you, you are hurt too. Neither of us are clean in this. I did what I had to do to protect myself. I don’t do well with weird love triangles and attachments. The pin I pulled it and the bridge that lead me to you went down in flames. I didn’t completely close you out. It takes a beautifully broken heart to understand a fellow broken soul. I have been through more than you could ever imagine and I know that life hasn’t always been kind to you. Just know that you are worth more than you will ever begin to understand and that you, you made a difference in one small town girl’s life.

{Hearts On 22} Five Borrowed Years

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Top right photo was taken one month after my PE and Stroke

Top right photo was taken one month after my PE and Stroke

I honestly cannot believe that it’s been five years. It seems just like yesterday when I set out to work oblivious to what this day would hold. I still remember what I wore and that I was upset because I forgot to buy creamer the night before. It was a free jeans day and I wore a gray cardigan with a white eyelet button down peasant style top and jeans paired with cranberry colored flats. It was also day #4 at my brand new job. I was busy learning the ins and outs of replevin work and didn’t have the time for inconveniences.

On Tuesday night I felt this excruciating pain rush through my body. I barely made it through the evening rush hour drive. I came home put my purse down, took some Tylenol and crawled into bed. Wednesday morning I was right as rain and went on about my day. On October 22, 2009 I woke up with a mild nagging pain in my chest. I didn’t think anything of it, figured I was coming down with a cold and brushed it off.

My body was screaming for help and I, I just ignored the signs. I had reached the Sun Ray shopping center, the pain was getting a little worse, still I brushed it off. A few miles down the road that nagging pain turned into what felt like a thousand knives cutting me at once. Breathing was proving to be difficult and my arm was going numb. I’d try to breathe deep, my lungs they fought back and I had to make the decision call mom, no not an option she will panic. Pull over, no you are afraid to be stuck on the side of the road. Oh look Lexington parkway, take the exit.
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The exit, I took it. To this day I have no idea how I made it to Woodwinds Health Campus in Woodbury MN. The only thing I remember is throwing the Prius into park and collapsing into the security guards arms. Some how by the grace of God I made it to safety. When I came to the ER staff ruled out a heart attack and a panic attack, labs were ordered and I apologized for taking up their time. The doctor thought I had an infection in my lungs and ordered an x-ray and labs. As he left the room he turned on his heel and asked “by chance are you on a birth control?” I quickly said yes and he explained what the d-dimer test.
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The d-dimer was ordered, my oxygen level was less than 50%, my heart was in sinus tachycardia and my blood pressure continued to climb. I, I was in rough shape. While on my way to x-ray the doctor shouted “where are you going with her? I canceled the x-ray.” I was feeling relieved and waited for him to tell me I had an infect and he was going to send me home. I didn’t get the news I wanted. With caring eyes he told me “the d-dimer came back glaringly positive we need to get you to CT ASAP. He quickly explained that the contrast die could prove deadly but the benefits out weighed the risk. I signed my name and into the scanner I went. They said it would take about 90 minutes for my results to come back.

I watched the clock and counted down the minutes. I could hear the phone ring, the doctor picked it up and said “shit! You have to be kidding, you are not!” Code blue was sounded and I heard a rush of feet come towards me. Within seconds every available hand was in he ER. He took my hand and said, “I am sorry AmandaJean you have a blood clot in your left lung that is blocking the main valve to your heart and your lung sacs have ruptured. Your body is not getting the oxygen it needs and you dear are going to be staying with us for a while.” My brain couldn’t comprehend how dire the situation was. My blood pressure went above 210, I told the nurse I felt woozy, one said it was just the pain meds, another looked at the monitors and said “the fuck it is, she is having a stroke,” he hit the panic button.

Clot busters were shot into my chest, thrombolytics and other medications were being pumped into both arms. I was alone, alone and fighting for my life. The ER doctor walked next to my bed as they were bringing me to the elevator bay. We stopped, he said AmandaJean do you know what’s down that hall? No I said. The morgue, I should be putting you on a slab instead of in a hospital bed. If you had been five minutes later your story would have been different, never ever forget that.
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It took a few days for the gravity of what I had survived to sink in. Friends came and visited me, my parents and than husband stood by my side. My life became a series of injections, INR checks, scans, nerotherapy sessions and doctor visits. I was alive and that is what mattered. Almost dying 5 days before your birthday steals your innocence and changes your perspective on life.

I didn’t just survived, I thrived. The ultimate gift was given to me, not many people get a second go around. I treasure every moment of every day, because I know that if I were five minutes late my story would have ended with my ashes in an urn. Survivors rarely talk about the guilt that they feel. I walk this earth with a scarlet letter glued to my head and people tell me that I shouldn’t have a bad day, because I survived the worst day possible.

Yet in the quiet moments I feel guilty that I survived. In the past five years I have said goodbye to more friends than one soul can handle. I survived only to watch my son slip away, I took a seat at Adam’s funeral, wrote a eulogy for Connor, only to follow-up a few years later with a eulogy for Charlie, said a tearful thank you to Dr. Delahaunty, and held my friend Jilliann’s hand as we said goodbye to Trinity. I have been surrounded by so much death and heart ache. I can’t make heads or tails out of who lives and who dies, God definitely has the upper hand on that one.
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Hands I’ve got two and my knees are worn from praying. My scars are healed, my body is somewhat back to normal, yet my emotional scars remain. Emotional wounds are he hardest wounds to heal. They slowly disappear with time. Anger was replaced with hope and that hope gave me the strength to make a difference. The guilt it is a reminder that four people had to die so I could be the one out of five who survived. I live each day of this crazy life for them, its the only thing I can do to honor those who went to soon. I vowed to spend my days advocating for those who no longer can and that they would be more than their deaths. Their stories deserve to be told. In one sheer moment of disaster I found my passion. I found that I had a voice and that I had the strength to stand up for myself. I signed my name on the dotted line and became a plaintiff in a product liability lawsuit against Merck.
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The Nuva Ring took a lot of things away from me and on the same coin it gave me a life that even I couldn’t have imagine for myself. It takes a lot of guts to put yourself out there and share the most vulnerable moments of your life. Sharing my journey allows me to educate the public about the dangerous side affects of hormonal contraceptive. Sharing my story has allowed me to shape the view points of politicians and to propel heart healthy policies forward. I owe a lot to the American Heart Association, they took me under their wings and gave me a platform. That platform has allowed me to grow and come into my own as a survivor. I am not ashamed to say I had a Pulmonary Embolism and Stroke, I am more than those events, I am more than a survivor, I am and will always be a small town girl who set out to change the world.
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The past five years have been a beautiful disaster and I am proud to claim it as my own. Because of quick action and research my life was saved. Every day the American Heart Association gives funds and encourages researches to tread unknown waters. Without the AHA we would not have CPR or advances in heart surgery, early stroke and heart attack detection. Research is why. Advocacy is why. Life is why. Second Chance is why. Without the AHA there would be no why in this world and we would have no hope for a heart healthy tomorrow.

I am incredibly thankful to my Woodwind’s care team, without them I never would have gotten to experience pregnancy followed by loss, then divorce, a little adventure followed by a whole lot of love and mostly without them I never would have gotten the chance to hold my niece. Without them my story would have ended at 26. Instead I got five beautiful borrowed years on this earth and I plan on borrowing a few more. Because life, its only just begun.common thread

{Divorced Life Dating} Go For The One Who Waits For You

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“People build up walls, not to keep others out, but to see who cares enough to break them down. “

Relationships, are my down fall and I always go for the man I can’t have, not the one I can’t live without. I am always the chaser never the chased. I try to force something to exist when in my heart I know there is nothing to lay a foundation on. I go for the guy who keeps his online profile alive, the one who never calls, texts, or surprises me. If they are lazy and emotionally unavailable, then heck I want em. Sign me up for that shit and let the chase begin.

I chased my ex-husband and it sort of worked. I got the ring, had the best wedding ever, and spent my evenings wondering where the fuck he was or more so who he was with. I had to chase my own husband, he never text me first or called to see how my day was. I would mention this and he would run out to buy me flowers or take me to dinner. Jewelry and shopping trips, now they were his fail safe. Those were just items they didn’t quiet the voice in my head that always wondered who is he texting at 2 am, what’s in his email, and oh god where did he go last night. I made excuses for his cheating, I would say to myself “If you drop 10 pounds or if you did xyz like the other girls he would stop.” I blamed myself and cried alone in my king sized bed.

For those on the outside my departure was sudden and without reason. But if you paid close attention and noticed the stream of girls coming into my drive way, well then you knew why I left. I left with what little dignity I had and I vowed to never chase. That was short lived. A challenge is what I need. If you are a challenge then I want you, if I have to chase you to the moon and back I am so in.

Charlie, now that is a man that I didn’t have to chase. He was the curve to my ball and I had to find a whole gosh darn new field. He looked beyond the scars, and took the walls down brick by brick. He understood where I had come from and that I was still a work in progress. Charlie spent a lot of time on the east coast and in Iowa for work, he told me one night that he had a girl in NYC. I was mad as hell, play me he did. I couldn’t believe it, I got duped into falling for an unavailable man.  I stuck him in the friend zone and went on about my day.

Fate landed me a contract assignment as a case assistant on a little oil spill in the gulf. Late nights and never ending weekends turned contractors into friends. After all no one on the outside understood what we were going through and how tedious the work was. Gopher Guy and I bonded over trip tickets and witty banter.  He knew that I was sort of dating someone and he would always tell me “well that’s only temporary.” Charlie joked that Gopher Guy was my work husband and that he needed to step up his game to prevent me from being wooed away. Charlie stepped up all right, NYC girl was a thing of the past and I was settling in nicely to my life at the Ivy.

If Gopher Guy only knew what the future held, he would take back every “its only temporary.” He was sadly correct. Charlie would become the fifth car in a multi vehicle crash on February 14, 2012, he died two days latter from his injuries. I was crushed, I didn’t know which way was up and life, it just wasn’t the same. Gopher Guy came running to my side, he just sat next to me as I starred into space trying to make sense of it all. He didn’t say a word and that meant the world to me. Everyone else was telling me “it will be ok, you will get through this. or we are so sorry for your loss.” I didn’t need words,  I needed silence, and he gave that to me.

Gopher Guy messaged me every day to make sure I was still standing and he made sure I got out. Subtle hints were dropped and I picked them up. On April Fool’s day he asked me if I would date him, I selfishly said yes. I was afraid of being alone and needed the distraction. This was incredibly wrong of me to do. How could I commit to someone when I was in love with a ghost. I would fall a sleep at night with Charlie in my dreams only to be awaken by the cold wet nose of a muppet like dog. I felt guilty, like I was cheating on him. Gopher Guy put on the full court press and  I couldn’t deal. I called it, I asked for my space and to not contact me.

We went months without saying a word. It killed me inside to lose such an incredible friend and I sent a message out of the blue. He responded with “oh thank god!” From that point on Gopher Guy has spent that past 3.5 years chasing me. I was to afraid to go for the safety of his arms, I went after the emotionally unavailable.  None of my relationships worked and never once did I utter I love you. Instead I found myself rushing home to tell Gopher Guy about my dates and about my life. He would always always throw insinuating text messages into the mix. Gopher Guy would tell me “you are the most amazing girl, you are worth waiting for.”

I never asked Gopher Guy to wait, he just did it. On my worst days my head had a way of finding his shoulder. He has seen my full on ugly cry, consoled me when my relationships went south, and mostly he gives me the best heart felt advice. It didn’t matter how unavailable I was, he always tried to steal me away. Earlier this summer it dawned on me “your relationships never work out because you have mad feelings for Gopher Guy.” Word, subconscious self and duly noted. Hot damn! My subconscious was fucking right, yup now I just had to get over the fear.

I found myself single at the end of August and Gopher Guy was somewhat single. For some reason his game stepped up and I passively passed it on. Until I finally found the strength to say “yes.” No this isn’t a magical OMG she got the guy who waited for her story. Shit Facebook told me he was in a relationship with a girl. It was kind of a shock because he had just asked me out to dinner. Apparently he had no idea his relationship was that serious. I plotted my course, laid my cards on the table and attempted a steal. My steal, yea that didn’t go down well.

All of my secrets are showing. We had a really good early morning ugly cry and he let me know that he has never stopped loving me, even now he still does. Yet he listened to the peanuts, pushed our history to the sidelines, and went for her and not me. He chose her over me. Gopher Guy thought our ship had sailed and that he would never have a shot with me. Shots? I’ve had plenty of shots to grab him. I didn’t because I only know how to function as a chaser and with him there was no challenge, only sweet sweet safety.

Every girl dreams for a man that will love her with every inch of his soul and I, I let mine down. I’ve learned you do not look for the one who compliments you, you, you look for the one that completes you. The one that will bring you new experiences, the one you can teach, the one who will listen without question, the one who dares you to swim with the sharks, and withholds judgment as you plot a crazy course. You, you go for the one person who dares to wait for you.