Category Archives: life lessons

{Alley Picking} Girl Meets Spray Paint!

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I grew up in a home where my parents encouraged exploration and creativity. We had buckets of crayons, rolls of paper, paints, and anything a little girl could dream of to create art. My Dad was known to bring home odds and ends. He has a collection of old doors, windows, pieces of floors and random boards that he will one day use. He is pretty crafty and my Dad is always willing to help me with my projects. Big or small he is there taking it over and telling me to get out-of-the-way.

I inherited my Dad’s ability to see a diamond in the rough and the ability to turn someone’s trash into a treasure. The last weekend of every month is a wonderful time to live in Uptown. Hipsters move out and in the alley they leave their “trash” behind. I have been known to haul home all sorts of things. People in my neighborhood are used to it and they offer a hand when I want something that’s to heavy to carry. I’ve been know to trudge through garage sales and thrift stores looking for unique finds. In addition to dragging things home, I also rehab items that I all ready own. A fresh coat of paint can go a long long way.

My Ex-husband got the house and all of the furnishings in our divorce and I was left with basically nothing. I had to start from scratch. At the time I bought what I could afford and a few classic pieces. Over the years I have switched a lot of things out and repainted items that I loved. Take my bed, I paid $89 for the frame at IKEA and I love the design of it, just not the color. White was the only color choice and I lived with a white bed in a white room for 4 years. It became mundane and I knew I wanted to keep the bed, I just didn’t want the white staying.Bed1

The white had over stayed its welcome and I was ready for a change. I knew I wanted to paint the bed a shade of blue, I just didn’t know which one. To be honest there are way to many choices in the spray paint isle. Seaside blue spoke to me and I walked out with four cans. The manhuman graciously helped me out with my project and it took us about an hour to paint the bed. My bed is now the focal point of my bedroom and I wake up every morning with a smile on my face. Life is best lived in color.Bed2

My Bed is not the only thing that got a shade of color this summer. I bought a bird-cage candle holder thing at a thrift store last spring and of course it was white. I felt that the white was just to darn lame and I wanted to brighten it up. Mostly I had been scouring different shops looking for a unique side table that would compliment the lines of the cage, I came up empty-handed. Bird1 That is until one day I was out walking the muppet like dog and there was the perfect table just sitting on the curb. I drug home that scratched up wobbly legged side table. Sure she was rough-looking, however I loved the lines and it was exactly what I had been looking for. It was the right sized and with help from my Dad we tightened the legs right up. I Chose golden squash for the bird-cage candle holder and cornflower blue for the table.
Bird3

Speaking of my living room I have been on the search for the perfect coffee table for months and wouldn’t you know the perfect one was right behind my building. I came home on a rainy afternoon to find a scratched up coffee table with its glass intact propped next to the dumpster. The coffee table was to heavy for me to lift, so I ran through the building got the Prius and loaded it up. Table3The coffee table was dark brown and that did not go with my decor, a little spray paint would make it fit right in. I decided to paint it the same color as the bird-cage candle holder. This way it would tie into the existing design of my living room. My Dad took over the painting, he always does. My mom and I came back from the beach to find the table half painted. Five cans of paint later and I had the perfect rehabbed coffee table for my living room.Table2

Girl Meets Spray Paint is exactly what happened this summer. Why throw something out if you can simply grab a $4 can of spray paint and make it new again. We have become a throw away society, no one is resourceful anymore. If it’s scratched, dinged or if we do not like it, we throw it to the curb. One woman’s cast off will always be another woman’s treasure. Take a few moments, look around you and find that diamond in the rough that is waiting for you to make it shine. Trust me they are out there and it is extremely worth it. My shabby chic DIY furniture makes my apartment a home.

{PERSPECTIVE} 10 Years of Have Bear Will Travel

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10 yearsTen years ago today I boarded a plane with 67 strangers bound for Glasgow Scotland. The only thing I knew was “I’m going to Scotland and will live in a palace.” Everything else was left up to fate. That trip lead me to start havebearwilltravel.com. It was my attempt to stay connected to friends and family back home. I wanted a place where I could share my adventures in real-time. Scotland was only the beginning, it was my starting point to an amazing adventure.

I got to travel Europe, attend the Edinburgh Tattoo, saw the Queen at the Highland games, and there is nothing like spotting a hairy coo in your front yard. I went looking for Nessie, but came up empty-handed, pub crawls, yea I’ve gotta few under my belt, art was a plenty, ghosts were all around, the underground can’t be beat, Rosslyn Chapel is way prettier in person, and if you listen you just might hear the footsteps of giants. I was an intern with the New Scottish Parliament, they thought it would be highly entertaining for me to give tours of the building to school children and tack stacks of papers.

Scotland truly was one hell of an adventure and I now have a place to call “Home” in the Midlothians. Once I returned home I continued to blog about my adventures and encouraged others to step out side of their comfort zones. Funny thing, little did I know that this blog would see me through thick and thin. It has been my outlet to the world, a place for me to gain perspective, encourage others, and a place for me to write my story.

Looking back I did a lot of incredibly amazing shit, so amazing that I have to stop and think “yea you actually did that!” Ten years ago I had no idea where life would take me or what the future would hold. I am a firm believer that everything should be left up to fate. Fate will never fail us and as long as we believe, she will come through. I’ve been married, became a step mom, had a pulmonary embolism and a stroke, became a mama, got a divorce, quit my job, found my voice, fell in love, said good-bye, and hello.

I am literally in awe of my life. I have walked the beaches of Sardinia, stood on Mount Tibidabo, sailed the canals of Venice, climbed the pyramids of Egypt, zip corded through the jungles of Belize, set sail on the high seas, collected sea shells in Mexico, panned for gold in Alaska, and shopped in Morocco. I have stood on three of the seven continents and hopefully will see the remaining four before I die. My soul needs to travel this world and as long as I am able I will always choose GO.

Go? Alfred who is now a very ratty teddy bear still goes wherever I go. He is after all the “bear” in Have Bear Will Travel. That ratty old teddy bear has seen me through the good, the bad, the ugly, and the down right hilarious moments of my life. We never grow up, we just tuck our teddy into our suit cases and no one is none the wiser. I will carry that ratty teddy bear with me until the day I die.

If I could go back 10 years I will tell my 21-year-old self to enjoy the journey and to live in the moment. Moments make us who we are, without them we are books with blank pages. I would tell her to hold on tight because you are going to have more potholes than smooth pavement. That life can be cruel and unfair. That she will endure heartache, turmoil, and fight for her life, only to say goodbye to a son who never walked the earth. Mostly I would tell her” “You are stronger than you could ever imagine and to not worry about law school, you will change the world without a law degree.”

{BirchBox & Ipsy} Girls Be Bitchin

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BOSSAs you know I love a good subscription box or bag, hell I like any mail that isn’t demanding payment from me. For me BirchBox and Ipsy allow me to explore the beauty market place and try new things before I hunk down a chunk of cash for the full-sized product. How often do you get to try before you buy? Not that often, especially when it comes to men……. I kid, I kid. BirchBox and Ipsy have essentially the same concept, they send you a box/bag full of deluxe sized samples or sometimes full-sized products to try in the comfort of your own bathroom. I don’t know bout you but that is where I try mine out, my mirror lives in the bathroom, so ya know I gotta go where the mirror is. Cause it sure as hell isn’t jumping off the wall and coming to me.

All humor aside. While riding the 7:15 am #4B into work, I became irritated by how entitled and ungrateful BirchBox and Ipsy subscribers are. Each month Ipsy opens the “glam room” it allows subscribers to see what is coming in their bag that month. BirchBox does the same thing, you can unlock your box after it ships to see its contents before it arrives at your door. I like, love this concept, 1. I get to see what’s coming and I get super excited and start stalking my packages online. 2. I hate surprises and I like knowing what will be arriving. This concept is a great thing and it is also a horrible ugly thing.

Why is it ugly? Girls are all over the internet bitchin about what is or isn’t in their boxes. First lets look into “Ipsy Gate.” It seems that with Ipsy every month subscribers complain about the quality of the product or the type of item they receive. February’s bag included a mini POP Plumping Lip Gloss, it came in two colors and it had a smell. We are not talking about the normal lip gloss smell, but apparently a very bad smell and some said it burned their lips. Facebook was full of the following posts:”I complained to Ipsy and now I am getting a full-sized Pop gloss to replace my stinky one.” Some women even double dipped by contacting both Pop Beauty and Ipsy ending up with 2 free full-sized glosses. Everyone likes free things, however when free is involved everyone should be honest.

People complained that May’s bag had too much skin care and very little makeup. Apparently Ipsy is supposed to be all makeup all the time. All makeup and no skin care, makes for terrible skin. I happened to love May’s Fresh Picks bag and enjoyed sampling new skin care products. Hey that shit isn’t cheap and if I can try it before I buy it, that’s a bonus. If the skin care complaints were boggling your mind things got even better, soon there were rumblings of broken Pacifica Eye shadow. Before you knew it everyone was complaining about receiving a broken shadow. I got the shadow and mine arrived in one solid piece. Just as before, Ipsy kindly sent out a replacement shadow. Its my understanding that you can apparently put the shadow back together again. Sort of like humpty dumpty. I’ve never done it, so I am not sure how it works.

Now lets look at “The BirchBox Scandal!” Woohooo everybody loves a good scandal! Hell I know I like the sound of the world scandal, that’s why I am using it. Every dang month, girls be bitchin “BirchBox you suck, you didn’t send me anything I wanted! I can’t use any of this! I’m canceling on you! Well, I would cancel but I like the points system, cause I can get free stuff in the BirchBox shop. Yea, I can, I just stay for the points.” <—– People actually say these things on BirchBox’s social media sites. I just laugh at them and usually make some snarky comment. You know because I am kind of snarky. Anyways it gets old really quick. I am not always happy with the Big "BB" yet I keep my unhappiness to myself and I don’t publicly blast them on their social media sites.

Well there was this one time where I did complain on the BirchBox Facebook page. But it was legit, they sent chocolate in my box and I am allergic to chocolate so I couldn't use anything in the box. But I complained in a nice way and through social media they prompted me to call in. So I did, their awesome customer service rep took care of me and hooked me up with a new chocolate free box. Concerns like the fore mentioned are legitimate concerns and should be brought to the company's attention.

Every month a new "Ipsy gate" and "BB Scandal" unfold in my social media feeds. One can literally pop themselves a bowl of popcorn, pour a glass of wine, sit back and read the drama. It's highly entertaining! I love how grown women throw hissy fits over receiving the wrong shade of makeup, tanning oil, hair products, and so on and so on. I am starting to believe that women think that the BirchBox and Ipsy warehouses are like Santa's workshop. You know a workshop filled with magical elves that can read our minds and that every girl in the world has her own personal elf that picks out amazing products just for her. Lady, its time to get real. There isn't a magic workshop and no one is pulling products just for you. It's a random system and they do their best to match products to what you put in your beauty profile. YOU signed yourself up for a sampling service and if you didn't properly read the fine print, then that's your own damn problem. There is no guarantee that you are going to get exactly want you want every month. No where in the fine print does it say "You will only get makeup in your glam bag." Nope I checked the site, it says you will get 5 beauty products in your bag. Same goes for BirchBox, you will get 4 to 6 deluxe sized samples each month and it does not mention that you will “only get makeup”. If you don't like a product, don't bitch about it, give it away or trade it away to someone who will love it.

You are not driving the beauty box bus here, you are just a passenger, and you should be grateful.

Why should you be grateful?
Its easy, you can afford a $10.00 box/bag each and every month, while someone out there can't. Stop and think about the following before you bitch about Ipsy and BirchBox: Think about the woman who is standing with her children at the grocery store cash register searching for just 10 more dollars so she doesn't have to ask the cashier to take something back. For her that is embarrassing and it breaks her heart knowing that her children will have a little less food on their plates. Think about the woman who walks miles to work, because she doesn't have $10.00 for gas. Think about the woman who searches the ground for spare change, because all she needs is another $10.00 to pick up her child's medication from the pharmacy. Think about them, think about their lives and you will see that your petty complaint is just another over-entitled first world problem.

{Women’s Health} Birth Control: Heroine or Foe?

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Birth controlAll we are hearing about is the positive stories. About how birth control has revolutionized and changed the lives of women. What about the other side of the coin? Is it really as great as they claim? Is it really a miracle pill? An article published in Women’s Health magazine states that there are 7 benefits besides the obvious. http://www.womenshealthmag.com/health/birth-control-benefits I was first put on the pill in the spring of 2005 to regulate my monthly cycle. I had suffered years of (sorry over share) heavy bleeding and extremely short periods. The hormones in the pill didn’t seem to help and the doctor suggested that I try the Ortho Evra patch, I was in love and it worked. It worked so well that I used the patch from August 2005 to December of 2008. The bad part about the patch was that it hurt like hell when you pulled it off and it left glue residue behind. Which I racked up as minor annoyances and focused on the benefits.

The benefit was that the patch made my pre-menopausal body into the body of a normal 20 something. In December 2008 I got brave and asked about the Nuva ring, since I was planning on having kids within the next 3 years the doctor thought it would be a great option. So I gave it a whirl and for the most part it did its job. Up until October 2009 I was a believer, I thought the Nuva Ring was a gift from the heavens, until the moment I found myself standing at death’s door.

On October 22, 2009 the Nuva Ring almost took my life. I was admitted to the ER with an oxygen level of 40% and my heart was in sinus tachycardia, I was fading fast and the ER dr paused and asked “are you on birth control?” I said yes and he ordered a d-dime test which lead to a CT scan that revealed the massive blood clot that was stuck in the main valve leading from my left long to my heart and the lower half of my left lung had collapsed. As soon as the clot was found the life saving efforts began, I ended up having a stroke right in the ER, it’s probably the best place to be if you are having a stroke. I was only 26 and this, this whole thing happened 5 days before my 27th birthday. I spent more days in the hospital than I care to count and it took me 1 year to recover fully. My life became a cycle of lovenox injections, INR checks, pulmonology visits, CT scan, blood tests, therapy, and a mountain of medical debt. On the bright side I got pregnant 6 months after my PE/Stroke, it wasn’t ideal and I was considered a very high risk, sadly that joy was short-lived and my son left this world before his feet even touched the ground. After his death I learned that he will be the one and only child I will carry.

It took me even longer to come to terms with the fact I will never be able to have a child of my own. I spent thousands of dollars on 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th opinions, at the end of the day the facts were still the same. I made a choice, I put faith in our government and I believed that I was doing the best thing for my health, in the end my hormonal contraceptive took my health and left me infertile. My body no longer makes the hormones it so desperately needs and because of the blood clot I can never be on hormonal contraceptives of hormone therapy again. Nuva Ring took my ability to carry a child away from me and for that I will no longer be able to say that birth control revolutionized woman’s health.

Recent studies have shown that todays birth control pills may double a woman’s risk of blood clots, pulmonary embolism, and strokes. According to a WebMD article published in October 2011,

Being on the newest kinds of pills, which contain the progestin hormones drospirenone, desogestrel, or gestodene along with estrogen, doubled the risk again, making it six to seven times as high as women who weren’t using hormonal forms of birth control. Still, on average, about 10 out of 10,000 women taking newer kinds of birth control pills had venous thromboembolism in a year’s time. Although that’s a serious increase, it is still only half as high as the risk of blood clots seen in women who are pregnant or who have recently had a baby.

Per drugwatch.com, third and fourth-generation progestin have been linked to increased risk of deep vein thrombosis (DVT) (blood clots) and pulmonary embolism (PE) (blood clots in the lungs). In addition, the risk of heart attack and stroke is also increased. These complications can lead to death. Other popular contraceptives like Orthra Evra and Yaz/Yasmin also have been associated with blood clot risks. Yaz/Yasmin, which uses a fourth-generation progestin, has been associated with a 74 percent increase of developing blood clots.

Whoa that’s some really great information and is truly something women should know about. Over the past 5 years I have crisscrossed the country speaking to and meeting a lot of awesome ladies. Many have told me that they never knew their birth control carried a risk of blood clots and even in rare cases death. It hurts my soul that women do not know about the risk of blood clots, I too was blinded and had no clue that my birth control could cause blood clots, that was until I saw the fluorescent lights of the ER bay. In that sheer moment of disaster my passion was born, my mission became clear and I set out to take on the world. I lawyered up and found my voice.

My life will never be the same again. I no longer dream of looking at my own flesh and blood. Instead I dream of my “gotcha day” and know that somewhere in Asia there is a child waiting for me, somehow that makes this whole situation all right.

I ask you to do only one thing, the next time you insert the ring, pop the pill, or pony up for the shot, think of me and all of my survivor sisters. Just maybe in that moment you will remember to ask your doctor “so what are my risks, you know of possibly developing a blood clot?

To Learn More Please visit:

Drug Watch: http://www.drugwatch.com/nuvaring/

WebMD: http://www.webmd.com/sex/birth-control/news/20111026/newer-birth-control-pills-may-double-blood-clot-risk

http://www.npr.org/blogs/health/2014/02/09/273145327/nuvaring-contraceptive-settlement-leaves-women-weighing-risks

Cosmopolitan Magazine: http://www.cosmopolitan.com/celebrity/exclusive/blood-clots-young-women

Saint Louis Today: http://www.stltoday.com/business/local/fda-approved-nuvaring-despite-experts-safety-concerns/article_9994f863-f5cb-58d7-b33a-ce519e3dd486.html

Women’s Health Magazine: http://www.womenshealthmag.com/health/nuvaring

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/12/18/nuvaring-blood-clots_n_4461429.html

{Divorced Life} I Always Thought I would Remarry First

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The end of a marriage is like a death, you mourn what was and try to quiet the memories. Its hard to believe that June 27th, 2014 will mark four years since I walked out of the red house on the quiet Woodbury cul-de-sac and never looked back. You just put your big kid pants on and walk boldly into the unknown. Each half has a chance to make a new start, to rebuild their life, and mostly a chance to find the correct better half.

My ex-husband jumped into a relationship the week after I left, he had her knocked up and moved in by September. Classy I know, yet I knew he would do it, the man is afraid to be alone with his on thoughts. So it was only fitting that he found someone to fill the quiet space that I left behind. Scott needed to drain the sea of regret, to plug the wholes of what if, and mainly he needed someone to warm his bed at night. Scott and his girlfriend have been together for almost four years and are now ready to say “I do.”

Scott sent me an out of the blue text asking questions about our divorce and said that he needed the information to fill out his marriage certificate. Those words stung a little. Hell since I was the better half, I always thought I would remarry first. I came close but unfortunately a drunk driver intervened and took that equation off the table. As I stared at that text for a few minutes, it took everything in me to not tell his girlfriend to run. A leopard doesn’t change his spots. Then I realized its not my place and I went on about my evening.

Its not my place to say anything because I left him in the past and have never looked back. Scott was one big giant life lesson, I gave up law school for him, and in the end I wound up with a pile of broken dreams. He told me once “when one dream ends, you make a new one.” He was right, when my marriage ended I set out to take on the world, but first I needed to find myself. I needed to look into the mirror and figure out who the fuck AmandaJean was. I knew two things: that 1. I was a survivor and 2. a mother to a baby in heaven. Those are two things Scott could not take away from me. I set out to live a life that Lucia would be proud of and one meaningful enough to prove that I was worthy to survive a pulmonary embolism.

Scott never made me feel like I was a priority in his life, I was always last on his list and never first. He never stood beside me and only criticized my every move. In Scott’s mind I was never pretty enough or thin enough, or good enough for him. The thoughts in his head caused him to stray, I figured it out when the seat was moved in my Prius, he told me he needed it and that if I didn’t let him continue, then I didn’t love him. So I turned a blind eye and rang up the Discover card, I buried my emotions for the sake of my marriage. On nights where I couldn’t take the whores, I spoke up, only to have my words thrown on the floor. The man never understood that normal husbands do not look for “friends” on craigslist, they come home to their wives, and love them for who they are.

That normal husbands answer the phone at 8AM when it shows up as “Woodwinds Hospital,” they don’t roll over and go back to sleep. The poor receptionist kept on calling him and he just let it go to voicemail. I faced death alone and when it was convenient to him he finally picked up the phone. He actually had the audacity to ask “do you really need me to come to the ER? I have to go to work.” A woman who is literally dying should not have to beg her husband to rush to her side. He came, and he was shocked at what he saw. He truly didn’t care about me, he kept on muttering about how big the bill was going to be. Yup, you got it he cared more about money than my survival. That was only the tip of the iceberg.

As you can tell I survived. Scott probably does not tell people “I have 3 kids, one died and two are alive.” In my eyes he has not earned the right to claim our son. The morning I found out Lucia was gone, I called him and begged him to come home from Vegas. Most men would have gotten on the next flight and rushed home to their mourning wife. He chose to stay in Vegas and partied the day away. I was alone when I got the news and thankfully my BFF Sherri refused to let me be alone on surgery day. Scott missed it all and came home to find me sleeping, he had no idea the hell I went through. He acted like nothing really happened and again he worried about the bill. Scott does not deserve to be Lucia’s father, because a father never turns their back on their child, no matter if they are dead or alive.

Scott and I were a beautiful disaster. Our lives were meant to collide, because without him, without the heart ache and pain I would not be the woman I am today. I will admit, it took a lot of therapy to get the man out of my head, his words cut like a knife and the wounds they bled for a while. Until one day I faced the sun and realized that I had something to offer this world. I found my space, got my head right and took on the day. The last thing Scott gave to me was a bracelet with little hearts on it, I wear it each day. Not for memory sake, but as a reminder to never give up my dreams for a man. I did that once and in the end I got a bowl full of broken.

I just hope that Scott learned something from our five year relationship and that his craigslist shoes are in the trash. Otherwise his marriage is not going to work. I want to believe that every now and then he thinks about Lucia and feels regret for putting Vegas before me. Yet, on the same coin, I know that in his mind I did everything wrong and that he is innocent. Because I am the one who walked out, in truth I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of calling it quits. That is why I said it first and walked out the door and never regretted every step that followed.

The last words Scott said to me were “You will never make it on your own!” Fuck you, I fucking did it! And I did it without you! That’s the best revenge a girl could ever dish out, is to prove that she doesn’t need a man to make it in this world. I love my post divorced life, I have a career that fulfills me, a dog that makes me laugh, friends that keep me humble, and love?, I’ve got that too! But, mostly I didn’t have to face a health crisis alone this time and no one uttered “I wonder how big the bill is going to be.” Because I am the one in control and I learned that your health is more important than money. Without your health money is worthless.

If you do not have your health you cannot fall in love with someone or adopt a child. Unlike you I had to fall in love with myself before I could love someone else. I have been in an off and on relationship with myself for four years and it has been nothing but bliss. Your words no longer seep into my mind on quiet nights and I no longer shudder at the image in the mirror. I truly love the woman looking back at me and she is one incredibly beautiful lady. I may not be a model, but survival sure does looks good on me. You told me once that I would never find someone else, again you were wrong sir. When it comes to me, you will always be wrong.

{Charlie} 40 Birthdays On Earth & 3 Birthdays In Heaven

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Memories seep in like a cool breeze. At first the breeze touches your hair, caresses your skin, and the chill it catches you off guard. Memories are like that, they catch you off guard. Much like love, when you are falling you don’t realize you’ve fallen until that one moment when his smile catches yours. I’ll never understand why Charlie chose me to call his own, in my opinion I am more of a mess than a prize. Something you walk by and leave for the next guy. Charlie would often tell me “AJ you are bigger than you can imagine, you are the spark that lights up the room.” I would simply smile and walk away. His brown eyes, god those eyes would meet mine and he would say “I mean it kid, I mean it.”

I have been caught up in a cancer scare and trying to get my feet on solid ground, so caught up that I almost forgot that today he would have been 43. Charlie loved celebrating birthdays as much as I do and I almost forgot his. Then again with time his being gone has gotten easier and I have learned to live without him at my side. On the day of my surgery I could feel Charlie around me and as I went under I was certain that I heard his voice. His voice is etched in my memory and the way he whispered into my ear late at night, those moments are something I cherish. Surprisingly I’ve come to find peace in the goodbye and those memories bring me comfort.

I can still hear the squeak of the chapel doors and the way the covering on the pew felt against my wool tights. The way the room felt, how the light flickered through the stain glass, and how the sunlight bounced off the cobalt blue casket. I held his hand for the longest time and talked to him for what seemed like hours. Part of me believed if I held his hand long enough I could will him back to life, in my heart I knew it wasn’t possible, yet I held on. As I held his hand I looked at all of the mementos that were placed inside, there was barely any room for him, and in that moment I knew he was being sent off with more love than one soul could handle.

Love is what I felt when I followed the casket down the isle, the church was standing room only and I was amazed at how many lives he touched. I took my place and waited for the Pastor to give me my queue. As I walked up to the Pulpit I dug deep and face the crowed, I did the last thing I could do for him, I sent Charlie off with one hell of a Eulogy. That was the last thing I could do. Hymns were song, prayers read, stories were told, and a video was shown, this was how we celebrated his life.

The tiny stone church stood proudly in the distance, a path to the grave site was shoveled, tents set up and men holding metal trays filled with shots of whiskey greeted us. Each guest grabbed one, I stayed behind with the pallbearers and waited for the guests to take their spots. The funeral director gave us the queue, they carried his casket on their shoulders and I walked in front leading him to his final resting place. Charlie’s father raised his glass, made a toast, took the shot, and slammed the empty glass on the lid. His brothers did the same, followed by his Mother, grandparents, and then it was my turn. Overcome by emotion, I had nothing witty to say, so I just bawled, drank the shot and slammed the empty glass on the lid. I will never forget the sound it made, the heavy clunk and then a clink as it hit another glass.

His life was bigger than his death, he had so many dreams and had done so much in such a short period of time. I was lucky enough to be a dot on his timeline. I was lucky enough to know what true love feels like and I was lucky enough to be loved by someone who loved me until he took his final breath. The only thing I can do in return is to learn how to grow and move on from it. I know with all of my heart that Charlie would want me to move on and to live the best life possible.

I have no doubt that I would have thrown him the best 43rd birthday party known to man. Filled with friends, family, food, and of course whiskey. Then again I know Charlie would have preferred an evening playing board games with friends over a lavish shindig. Like the previous two years there will not be a party, instead, I will blow out a single candle on a lemon cupcake and whisper “Happy Birthday Charlie” with the muppet like dog by my side.

{MN Heart Walk 2014} Why Will YOU Walk?

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This Saturday thousands will descend on Target Filed, not for a Twins Game, but to walk for a purpose. To walk in memory of a loved one, in honor of a survivor, for themselves, and to show their support for others. They will walk on behalf of the American Heart Association to raise awareness and funds to stop the number one killer of all Americans. Minnesota is home to the largest Heart Walk in the country and words cannot describe how moving it is to see thousands of people walking for a better day. The MN Heart Walk means I get to put on my survivor shoes and walk for those who have touched my life.

I walk for Emma, she was the first infant in the state of Minnesota to receive a heart transplant. Sadly she died 3 years later due to complications of the common cold. Thou her life was short, she made a huge impact on pediatric cardiology. What they learned in those three short years is helping save thousands of babies each and every day. Emma may be gone from this world, but she will never be forgotten. Since her passing Minnesota has become a leader in pediatric cardiology and we have a tiny little girl to thank for that. I walk because Emma never got to grow up, she never got to graduate from high school, go to college, travel the world, and because her sister Chloe got cheated out of having a best friend.

Ice Cave 16My Father Greg is my best friend, psychologist, sounding board, and my compass. No matter where I go in this world I always manage to find my way back home. I walk because God gave my father a second chance. Twelve years ago I was a freshman in college when I got the call that he was fighting for his life. His body was weak, his heart was sick, yet there was a small ray of hope. Knowing that he was at the Mayo brought us hope, they did not give up and they put this broken man back together again. They fixed his heart and 10 years later he got to say hello to his first granddaughter. Research saved his life and it will continue to save the lives of others. Without research we have no hope.

Hope is what keeps me a float on bad days. October 22, 2009 was one of the worst days of my life. It was the day I became the very survivor I was advocating for. It’s still hard for me to believe that my hormonal contraceptive device almost took my life. I drove myself to the ER with sever chest pain, shortness of breath, and a whole other mess of complications. They quickly ruled out a heart attack, yet they knew something was terribly wrong. The ER Doctor explained it was most likely an infection in my lungs and that I would be out of there in no time. For some reason unbeknownst to me he stopped in the doorway turned around and asked me “by chance are you on a birth control?” I quickly replied yes and he asked the nurse to order a d-dime test. I was being wheeled to x-ray when he stopped the nurse and told her to bring me back. I will never forget the look on his face and the fear in his eyes as he explained that the d-dime test came back positive. I got a CT-Scan and within 30 minutes a code blue was issued.

_MG_2225 I was in serious trouble, a blood clot in my left lung was blocking the main valve to my heart. I was in sinus tachycardia, my oxygen level was falling and my blood pressure was rising. In laymen’s terms “I was fading fast.” Clot busters were administered and my stroke was stopped in its tracks. The highest dose of Heparin was administered and I would be staying a while. The ER Dr. walked with us as they rolled me to the elevator bay. He took one look at me and said “remember for as long as you live, that you should be going down there, that’s the morgue and not upstairs. Very very few people survive this. Remember that!” I walk because I got to blow the candles out on my 27th Halloween themed birthday cake.

Research has allowed me to live a vibrant life and it has given me five borrowed years on this earth. In those five years I said goodbye to my son, stepped out of a loveless marriage, moved to uptown, adopted a muppet like dog, fell in love, became an aunt, found a job that I love, but mostly I shared my story and found myself. None of the fore mentioned would have been possible if it were not for the life saving research that is funded by the American Heart Association. I walk because their research saved me.

{Survival} Drain Drain Go Away

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DrainLife never seems to be easy. When things are good something always comes up to disrupt my fun. I will spare you some of the details, needless to say I woke up in a sticky mess this morning. I was told that my incision would drain and that drainage was good. However I wasn’t told that it was going to drain a ton all at once. I guess it decided that Memorial Day was the day to drain away.

I was just thankful that I had today off, otherwise I would have been late for work. Since it was still early I cleaned myself off, switched PJs, sprayed the sheets, and went back to sleep on the other side. I guess there is a plus side to sleeping single in a queen sized bed. If one side is dirty you just move to the other side. I wasn’t to concerned, well concerned isn’t the right word, more like horrified of how much could come out at once. My appointment was at 10:00 AM, I would get help then.

Dr. Anderson got there before I did and he had wrangled a nurse into helping him work with me. The all to familiar cart of just a few things was pulled into the room. He had asked me how I was doing and I quickly said “You didn’t tell me it was going to gush!” Dr. Anderson pause for a moment, smiled and said “it may gush, it just depends on the amount of fluid.” I just looked at him and replied “that doesn’t count, you can’t tell me after the fact.” He just laughed and went to work.

Good news, the drain did exactly what it was supposed to do and the swelling in my neck has decreased enormously. It actually kind of resembles a normal neck now and I can see my chin again. Dr. Anderson was happy to see that a lot of stuff was coming out and that I was feeling better. The super antibiotics are doing there job and I am no longer in pain. He removed my old drain and well needless to say he had to scramble to find a lot of surgical towels. If one removes a plug they should be prepared for a potential flood.

Unfortunately I get to hang out with a drain for the next 5 to 7 days or until it dries up. Dr. Anderson put in a new drain and bandaged me up as best he could. I asked a million questions such as: “How does one get a surgical site infection? How long is this thing going to drain? What is my scar going to look like?” He answered all of them, Surgical Site Infections of the neck are extremely extremely rare and he was surprised that I have one. My drain will be in place for a while and it is hard to tell what my scar will look like. I learned that over time the skin around my incision site will soften and return to normal skin. Yay for normal looking skin.

Oh, I almost forgot my most important question was “Can I shower? I have to go to work tomorrow.” Dr. Anderson told me “yes you can shower, a little water won’t hurt it, just try to keep it dry. He also gave me a bonus piece of advice “You might want to wear a collared shirt or a scarf to work for the next few days. He explained that he would like me to come in before Thursday so they can check up on my drain and well me of course. It sounds like I will be going back every couple of days until this thing dries up for good. Which I hope is sooner rather than later.

If you or a loved one are about to under go a surgical procedure I urge you to educate yourself on the signs and symptoms of surgical site infection. Because every moment counts and the earlier it is caught the better the outcome. Even if you think you are making a mountain out of a mole hill, it is best to listen to your gut and get yourself checked out.

To learn more about Surgical Site Infections please visit the following:

Click to access ssi_tagged.pdf

Click to access SSI_toolkit021710SIBT_revised.pdf

{Survival} Halfway Out Of The Woods and Almost To The Meadow

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On Tuesday I hugged my coworkers and said goodbye for a week. I must say I have some of the most thoughtful coworkers on the planet, they sent me off with an orchid. I was a little nervous about bringing home the beautiful orchid on the bus. To my surprise, the orchid and I made it home safely. The #4P was good to us on Tuesday night. Since I was under orders of no food after midnight, I decided I was going to indulge in whatever I could.

Enter Leann Chins, their house chicken and white rice hit the spot. Not to mention their cream cheese puffs, thou high in calories are absolutely amazing. I love those things. The Marine also indulged in the wonders of Leann Chins and managed to calm my fears. I had a wondrous plan of running away to Canada, it is only a 7 hour drive from Minneapolis. The Marine convinced me that I truly did need to under go surgery and it was the best thing for me. We spent the evening talking about life, the future, and he shared a few stories of his time in Iraq.

It was getting late and I needed to head home, Wednesday was going to be a big day. This wasn’t my first time going under the knife, it’s actually my fourth. That didn’t bring me any comfort and my nerves set in. I snuggled in with the muppet and his over sized cone and drifted off to sleep. The morning, if you ask me came way to early. It always seems to come quick when you have something on your calendar you do not really want to do.

The morning was gloomy and I drank as much water as I could before my 11:15am cut off time. Walked the dog, did dishes, showered, and headed out to pick up my Mama. I think she was more nervous than I was. With my Mama at my side I walked into the hospital and checked in. Removing the largest lymph node in my neck was the only option I had and it would tell us if I had cancer. My biopsy a few weeks back, showed that I had atypical B Cells, which isn’t good. I held out hope, even thou I knew the odds that it was more than likely cancer. In my heart I prayed for a different outcome, I wanted so badly in this moment for it to be a fluke and to not have to under go surgery.

Surgery went down as scheduled. I was prepped and answered the same questions over and over again. The pre-op staff was sweet, my nurse Chris calmed my fears and told me I would be all right. The surgeon came back and marked me, before I knew it I was off to the operating room. The last thing I remember is talking about an expensive spa and then I woke up in recovery. Yay, I made it through in one piece, well minus a lymph node, hell I was alive and that’s all that mattered.

I was able to go home the same day and my Mama stayed in town to take care of me. As I settled in on the couch, pizza was ordered and updates were sent out to friends. I was on the mend, the swelling in my neck wasn’t to terrible and I was getting around pretty good. Thursday the Marine came over to take my Mama back and to relieve her of her babysitting duties. Yes, I need a babysitter, otherwise I would do too much before my body was ready.

I must tell you the Marine is a pretty darn good babysitter, he made sure I napped and iced my neck. Icing my neck is an important part of my recovery. Its suppose to help the swelling in my neck. So much for ice, by Friday afternoon I knew something was off, yet I kept on icing my neck. My neck wasn’t getting smaller, it was getting larger and larger. I thought maybe I did too much and just needed to lay down. I took a lot of naps, the naps and ice were not helping. Not only was my neck the size of a small tree stump, I was starting to feel drained. I don’t remember how I fell a sleep, just that I woke up in pain on Saturday morning.

As I looked in the mirror I could not believe my own eyes. I actually walked out of the bathroom, came back looked in the mirror and walked out and repeated this about four times, before I realized that yes my neck was huge. Saturday was the day I could finally shower, I thought it might help me feel better, so I jumped in. The shower didn’t change anything, I looked closer in the mirror, my incision was a deep red and the artificial skin was bubbly. My heart sunk, I knew I was in trouble.

I searched through my pamphlet of surgery how tos and who to call. The after hours nurse put a message in to the on call Doctor and he suggested I head to the hospital. Great, just how I want to spend a lovely Saturday morning. Reluctantly I went, I kept thinking to myself that everything would be fine and I was just making a mountain out of a mole hill. I arrived and was quickly whisked back to a room. Everyone kept staring at my neck and couldn’t believe how huge it was. The ER doctor came back and said “wow, your neck is huge” and immediately started touching it. He stated that he was going to call the on call ENT Surgeon Dr. Anderson to come in and look at me. He mentioned that they may have to reopen my incision and clean it out.

I was not down with that idea and waited for Dr. Anderson to arrive. After a few hours he arrived and quickly stated “I’ve heard about your neck all morning and I just had to come in and see if for myself.” Dr. Anderson looked me over and explained that I might have an infection in the wound. He stated that they could cut open a small section of the incision to see what comes out, if nothing comes out I would be headed to the operating room to have it reopened and cleaned. I was not amused nor was I down with those options. I chose what he said was the simpler option.

He numbed my neck, which that hurt like hell and every time I flinched he apologized. We took a deep deep breath and he went to work opening part of my incision. To his surprise (I will spare you the details) a bunch of shit came out. Dr. Anderson while working away said “I am really impressed! Your body managed to grow an infection with in two days of surgery. It normally takes 5 to 7 days for an infection to take root.” I looked at him and said “yea, I am talented like that.” He kept on telling me that I was a tough cookie and that most people would have passed out by now. Or asked for localized anesthesia, I wasn’t going under and thou it sort of hurt, I knew that it had to be done.

Time stood still and he just kept on working away, running around and grabbing different things. He placed a drain in the wound to keep part of it open and explained that this will help relieve the pressure. Dr. Anderson tried to bandage me up nicely, but really there is no pretty way to bandage a neck. Necks are hard and awkward. He talked about super strong antibiotics (I would be going home with one) and memorial day weekend. Which I have no plans because I am suppose to be recovering from surgery. Dr. Anderson didn’t want to leave me and my new-found drain hanging so we agreed to meet back at the hospital on Monday for a check up. Dr. Anderson, (who was not my surgeon) takes his job very seriously and actually cares about the patients he comes in contact with. He is giving up part of his day off to drive over to the hospital to check up on me. How awesome is that? Its pretty awesome.

Dr. Anderson gave me one stitch and asked me to rest. By this time the ER was buzzing with patients and I was left waiting for my discharge paperwork. I had been there since 7:00 AM and desperately wanted to go home. I hadn’t seen a clock for hours, so I had no idea how long I had been there. I just knew it had to be forever and a day. When I was finally given the all clear it was almost 3 o’clock, 8 hours of my day was eaten up by the ER. Oh well, turns out my gut was right and I got the medical attention I needed.

I just pray that I have improved and that my incision looks better on Monday, because the reopening thing is still on the table. I don’t want to go back through surgery again nor do I want a hospital stay. I miss my coworkers and want to get back to work sooner rather than later. Amidst all of the current chaos I did get the results back on my lymph node, it came back BENIGN. So I guess fate had to trip me up somehow and decided that I would be the 1 out of 100 surgery patients to get an infection. Because things in my life could never go smoothly, complications love me.

I am halfway through the scary woods, this journey of possibly having cancer was just a bump on the trail. I am thankful that the results came back benign and well we could have skipped the infection. Because it’s not fun and I would like to walk in the flower filled meadow one day. Flower filled meadows always, always follow scary woodlands, otherwise why would we continue to walk. Most of us would give up at the first sighting of a flying monkey or crow, or angrily talking tree. The meadow makes the journey worth it and damn it I want my Meadow!

{Survival} Into The Woods

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imageIt seems that bad news and rainy days always collide. It was raining the morning I found out I had a massive blood clot in my lung and the rain it poured down around me on the day I found out my son had left this world. I looked past the rain on Thursday, I thought it was just a coincidence and kept my spirits high as I waited for the nurse to call me back.

The nurse, she was warm as always. We joked that I needed my own parking spot and coffee cup since the clinic has become my second home. I’ve been to the doctor every week since March 21st. That’s a lot of appointments, scans, and biopsies.

I waited for the doctor, the rain continued to fall and I still held onto hope. Hope that this was all for nothing and I would walk away with a prescription for an antibiotic. I didn’t get that prescription, my heart sunk when I saw her face.

The words they didn’t make sense, I asked her to back the little bus up and to speak to me in regular people terms. Those terms cut through my heart like a knife. I was not out of the woods. I am in deep and I will need to walk past a few more flying monkeys before I see the sun.

The doctor very calmly told me “they found a small number of atypical cells in your lymph node biopsy. This, this is not something to tuck away for another day. You have to deal with it now.” Her eyes told me I was in trouble and that time was slipping away. I had no other option than to deal with this head on. I was quickly whisked away to Paula who scheduled a consult for Monday with a surgical oncologist to go over my options.

Options are all I have right now.
And I am clinging to the fact that they only found a small amount of atypical cells. I pray to God that we caught it early and that I will be out of the woods sooner than later.

Everything in this moment is in the hands of fate. Only she knows if I will walk out of the woods without struggle. Only she knows what will come and I have to believe that all of this will one day make sense.