Left: 2009 / Right 2013 Looking back and celebrating 4 years of Survival
On October 14, 2009 I had my annual check up and birth control renewal appointment. My Doctor asked me if I had any concerns. I said yes. “Yes I do, I have this incredible pain in my leg and it won’t go away. My leg is deep red in spots and I am having head aches.” The doctor said and I quote “oh you just need to exercise and drink more water. You will be fine.”
October 22, 2009, 7:00am I was driving through rush hour traffic when my chest started hurting. At first it was just annoying and I thought “oh I will just take some Tylenol when I get to work. It’s nothing.” The pain kept on getting worse and worse, my heart started racing, at this point I could barely breath. Again I though “I will make it to work, take Tylenol and I will be fine.” I kept on driving. My situation wasn’t improving, my arms were starting to feel numb, I was becoming light headed. I thought to my self “should I call my mom. No, don’t do that she will panic. Should I pull over and dial 911? No, don’t do that you don’t want to be stuck on the side of the road. Oh look Lexington parkway. Take the exit.”
I did take that exit and somehow by the grace of God I drove myself to the hospital in Woodbury. The last thing I remember is seeing the security guard hold out his arm and I collapsed. I woke up to a nurse telling me “I can either cut your clothes off or you can help me take them off.” The staff had all ready hooked me up to monitors and an EKG machine.
The doctor came in and said “well we know you are not having a heart attack but something is wrong. I think you might have an infection in your lung. Well take an X-ray and get you some meds and you will be out of here in no time.” Ok I said. Then he stopped turned around and said “are you on birth control.” Yes I said. He ordered more tests.
My heart had been in sinus tachycardia for over an hour, my oxygen level was below 40 and I was fading fast. The D-dime test came back positive and a CT scan was done. A blood clot the size of a 10 cent gum ball was blocking the main valve to my heart and my body was being starved of oxygen. Within minutes of this discovery, I had a stroke.
The ER staff was kicked into high gear and the life saving efforts began. Clot busters were injected, they gave me the highest possible dose of Heprin, and my life was saved.
But what gets me is this “this all could have been prevented if my OBGYN had truly listened to me, she could have ordered the d-dime test and the clot would have been found and it would never have traveled to my lungs.” I almost died 5 days before my 27th birthday. I got the best gift in 2009 and that was my life.
So please listen to your heart and mostly your gut. If something doesn’t feel right keep on pushing until you find the one doctor who will listen to you. Don’t end up like me, I learned the hard way. Now I never take a doctors word at face value and I ask questions.
One moment changed everything, I was robbed of my youth and now I am going RED because no woman deserves to fight alone.
Ever since I can remember I have always gone against the tide. I looked to the sun and answered to a higher calling. My parents will tell you that I am an old soul, that I wear my heart on my selve, and that my zest for life is addictive. That I have always looked out for my fellow-man, cried tears for the less fortunate, and believed that the under dogs would one day fly.
Ya know my parents are right. I grew up in a narrow-minded river town. One that thrived on rumors, turned out shoes, and kicked you in the gut if you were different. I was a biracial girl growing up in a one color town, I was a child with ADD taught by those who couldn’t see my potential, and mostly I was a girl who wanted to be left alone. I recently received a Facebook friend request from my high school bully. I was taken back, the memories shot through my mind like fire to the prairie. All of the pain I buried rose to the surface. I quickly threw my iPhone to the floor (thank God I have an otter box) and feverishly started cleaning my stove. I chose to leave it. I didn’t hit confirm or deny, I just left her hanging in the wind.
You see Sara grew up just around the corner from me and for some reason it was her goal to make my life miserable. High school was the worst, she would tell people that I was poor, that I was ugly, stupid, dirty, and so on. Teachers they ignored the insults that flung across the isle, they turned their heads, as I held back the tears. I finally had enough at the end of ninth grade, I came to my Mom in tears at my spring choir concert, My Mama vowed to make it stop. My dad on the other hand took matters into his own hands and called up her father. A meeting was set, we sat face to face our parents at our sides, and Sara proclaimed “I just want to be her friend. That’s all I want.” Lies spewed from her mouth as she tried her best to cover up her wrongs. The truth it came seeping through and she as told to leave me alone. That very moment set the tone for my high school career. Rumors flowed behind my back, people never forgot the lies she weaved and I couldn’t wait to break free.
You made fun of me for being in the FFA, for working at McDonalds and for buying my cloths at Kmart. Sara, I was never one to keep up with labels. Kmart was the only “department store” in town and well the clothes at Maurices were not my style. To this day I am still sporting my signature cardigan. (not the same ones I had in high school thou) Class, lady it never goes out of style. I wouldn’t be the leader I am today if it were not for the FFA. I am passionate about consumer driven agriculture and can often be found getting dirty in a garden. Red Wing is a farming town, lets face it Goodhue county has more livestock than people. So why not take the time to learn where our food comes from and to grow the perfect pot of petunias. Now for my getting a job in high school, see below……….
Sara, my family is far from poor. I got a job at McDonald’s during high school because I was tired of asking my parents for money. I wanted to make my own and not spend there’s. You see Sara, I grew up in town and spent my weekends at my family’s country house. Three cars lined our driveway, one of them is a 69 mustang that hasn’t seen the light of day in years. My Mom and Dad always made sure that my sister and I had everything and anything we wanted. In hind sight they were probably to good to us. Because now my sister and I need a support group for spoiled child syndrome. One lesson my parents taught me has always stuck with me an that is: “those who have money hide it and those that don’t flaunt it.”
I don’t spend my days keeping up with the Jones, I never have and I never will. You tried so hard to break my spirit and to knock me down the mountain. Your insults were my ammunition, each one whispered made me work harder. I knew my mind would be my ticket out of that backwater town. I cried in my mom’s arms, my diploma in my hand, not because I was sad, but because I was finally fucking free of you. I no longer had to see your face every day. I no longer had to put up with the whispers, I was finally fucking free.
Darling, I stretched my wings and I aimed higher than you could ever dream. I picked a college that I knew no one from Red Wing would attend. In Superior I came into my own, in Superior I discovered my voice, I found my grace, and mostly I shined. Through the hallowed halls I walked studying the laws that built our country. Dr. Cuzzo she helped me realize that I had the power to change the world. She’d tell me “never stop, you are so bright.” That was the first time a teacher ever told me I was bright. In her eyes I didn’t have ADD stamped on my forehead instead my intelligence pushed through.
Sara in the past 13 years I have set foot on three continents, got married, survived a stroke, lost a child, got divorced, dined with politicians, danced in the rain, and loved like I was dying. My voice is helping raise awareness about strokes in young women. I pounded the pavement in DC, crisscrossed the country lobbying for a better day, and took a moment to look into my nieces eyes. I have gone further than you will ever go. For you see I no longer fear the label you placed on me. You were right Sara I am different, I am so different from you that I am extraordinary. It takes an incredible amount of courage to stand up and to fight back.
Because of you Sara I strived to change the world and to make it a better place. Mostly I strove to return one day and walk up to you and say “Fuck you, fuck all of you” and then proceed to walk out of our high school reunion. Which I was totally going to do. However I decided that you weren’t worth my time. You see Sara you no longer have power and I will never mark my word be your friend. Not on Facebook and defiantly not in real life.
Different is beautiful and remember whose toes you step on because you just might have to bend down and kiss their ass one day!
I have always been involved with the American Heart Association. As a child I participated in jump rope for heart, learned CPR with my girl scout troop, and in college I volunteered with the Twin Ports Go Red Chapter. My family has been supporting the American Heart Association since the day a little girl named Emma came into our lives. Emma taught us that life is cruel and even thou we are small we must play the hand fate dealt us.
Emma was dealt a shitty hand right from the start. You see she came into this world with a broken heart. Emma was the fist infant in Minnesota to receive a heart transplant. With that transplant we were filled with hope for a brighter day. Emma was one hell of a fighter, she gave life her all until the last breath left her body on December 29th, 1995. Emma was 3 yeas old when she left this world. Her father was robbed of the chance to walk her down the isle, and her sisters were cheated out of a best friend. From that moment I was committed to the mission of saving lives.
Fast forward a few years I was away at college in the north woods of Wisconsin far away from my family. On February 8th 2002 I called home to speak to my father. Instead of a conversation, I found out that my father was fighting for his life. I hung up the phone, my knees hit the floor and I prayed to God to take me instead. My father gave it his all, he’s an angle with one wing in the fire and someone up there was looking out for him that day. The mayo clinic fixed his heart and he was able to see his daughter graduate from college, get married, and watched her find herself. Mostly he got to stand by his daughter’s side as she recovered from a stroke.
Emma and my father were to very good reasons to volunteer with the American Heart Association. Little did I know that at 26 I would become the very survivor I was advocating for. On October 22, 2009 my life changed forever. Five days before my 27th birthday I became a pulmonary embolism with infarction and stroke survivor. I have no side effects or disabilities from my stroke. I am one of the lucky ones. I received the life saving clot busters in the nick of time and excellent care. One thing is for certain I will never look at birth control the same way again.
I went on birth control to regulate my hormones in hopes that I would become pregnant. The doctor recommended the Nuva Ring and said I should use it for a year and then try to conceive. Sadly I was on it for less than a year. Instead of a child, I had the rug ripped out from under me. The Nuva Ring took the very thing I wanted out of the equation. I want more than anything to look into a child’s eyes and know that I brought them into this world. The odds are stacked against me and the risks are far to big. So I settled on the notion that I would never be a Mom.
I know the odds, yet I am not able to quiet the desire. I love being an Aunt, heck being an aunt has made my thirst for motherhood grow. I did a lot of soul searching and faced the sun. Then one day it hit me and I knew there was still an option. The Nuva Ring may have taken my ability to carry a child away, but it will (mark my word) never take away my option to adopt a child. An that is exactly why I am going Red this year.
Left: 2009 / Right 2013 Looking back and celebrating 4 years of Survival
I am going RED for all of the survivors who are now mothers and for all of our sisters who never got the chance to be called MOM. Because of donors like you women like me are getting the chance to be Moms. We are getting the chance to go to college, to fall in love, to get married, and to have families of our own. 10 years ago our futures looked bleak and now, now they are so bright it will set your heart on fire. Every day we are saving 330 women, every day 330 women are getting the chance to live. Young survivors are thriving, the old are spreading their wisdom, and together we are making a stand. A stand against the number one killer of women.
My dream is to one day put away my red dress and to live in a world free of stroke and heart disease. Mostly I want to look into my child’s eyes and love them with every inch of my surviving heart.
I always dread the end of the Christmas season and find myself counting down the days to wait for it, wait for it….. WEIGHTLOSS SEASON! Every January my TV is filled with commercials spouting “What will you gain when you lose” or meet the new you. There are commercials for every gosh darn weight loss pill, program, and so on. My favorite tagline from an ad is for Lipozine “Why does it work? It cost $300.00. That’s why it works!” Really a $300.00 bottle of pills is going to help me lose weight? I don’t think so. My biggest beef is with Kellogg’s Special K cereal. Their ads always start out empowering with statements such as “You are more than a number.” Then they quickly go down hill.
As a society we have become so focused on the little box that sits on our bathroom floors. We let it guide our self-worth and our lifestyles. I can tell you that I too once lived a life powered by my bathroom scale and counted every God damn calorie that I shoved into my mouth. I ate rice cakes, 100 calorie packs, and many unappetizing low-calorie microwave meals. My life had become “Count, eat, sleep, gym, morning weigh in —– repeat 24/7 365. Then one day I ate a cupcake, I didn’t dare figure out the calorie count, and for once I was ok with it.
As I was learning to love my body, my bathroom scale began to gather dust. I stood one night and looked at myself in the mirror. As in really looked at myself, I saw my body from a grown up perspective. I was reminded that I get my facial features from my Aunt Cherie Leigh, I have her freckles, large forehead, and high cheek bones. I noticed that my collar-bone sticks out and that my boobs are still holding their own. My back fat, (yea, I’ve got it too!) curves, and dimpled backside no longer bothered me. Instead of flaws I saw strength.
For the first time in a long time, I smiled into the mirror. I am not a size 8 or even a 10, yet I am happy in my size 12/14 jeans. I no longer strive to be like the girls in the magazines. I want to be the best possible me. I need to take care of the body that God gave me. The flaws disappeared, instead I focused on the fact that my body survived a pulmonary embolism and carried a child for a short while. The scar on my lower abdomen is a reminder of my bladder reconstruction surgery and to have hope for a better day. The scars on my knee remind me to keep on walking until the road before me ends. My curly hair, I finally love it and no longer wish for straight hair.
My big flat feet proved to be the perfect canvas for a tattoo. Tattoos, I’ve got two! One on my foot of four bear paws to remind me that my son Alucious is always with me. I have a book-worm studying a law-book on my lower right back (Ha! You thought it was a tramp stamp!) it reminds me to never stop fighting for justice.
You see I no longer want to spend my life looking at a scale. Instead I want to celebrate all of the above things and live a life full of worth. A life filled with white frosted cupcakes, walks with my dog, and backyard BBQs. I don’t need to be a size 2 to be beautiful. At a size 12/14 I am the healthiest I have ever been in my life. I no longer need those 100 calorie packs, rice cakes, and crappy low-calorie microwaved meals to eat “healthy”. I learned how to eat healthy, as in real fresh from the farm foods. I cook more and actually get excited about eating. I have more will power than ever before, I can pass up the bakery, cookie, and snack isle in the grocery store. I am not missing out on the treats, instead I buy just one cookie or cupcake to satisfy my craving. That’s all I need.
I do not need a low number to tell me that I am empowering, joyful, healthy, beautiful, or sexy. I will never let the number on my bathroom scale define myself worth again. I just wish Special K cereal would changer their ads and make women feel empowered in their current state and not ask them “What will you gain when you lose?” Because really the true question is “What will you gain when you throw out the bathroom scale?”
Christmas is when I miss Charlie the most. Mostly because he got cheated. Cheated out of meeting Sophia. He was anticipating her arrival and received status updates on the progress of her birth. A trial kept him in New York and he couldn’t wait to hang up his traveling suit and snuggle his niece in his arms. Charlie never got to see her smile, hear her laughter or feel her tiny hand in his. Sophia never got to meet the man who dreamed of taking her to Paris and who would have spoiled her beyond her wildest imagination. Charlie died loving the tiny girl he never got to meet.
As I sit back and reflect I can’t help but to think about all of the people who have never laid eyes on their niece or nephew. Sure deadly drunk driving accidents stick in our minds. After all one drunk driver took Charlie an 4 other people out on a wintry Valentine’s Day. That was one moment in time, yet in that moment hundreds of women lost their lives to heart disease and stroke. Hundreds more died that day from a Pulmonary Embolisms or other hormonal contraceptive related side effect. Those lives never make the news, they just fade quietly into the timelines of history.
If it were not for my care team I would have joined the fading time line. I would have been another casualty not a news worthy story. There isn’t a day that goes by where I do not thank God for keeping me on this earth. For answering my silent prayer and giving me the strength to fight. For giving me the strength to stand up and shout my story from the roof tops. With each word spoken I began to heal my broken heart, I penned my name on a legal services agreement and became a plaintiff in the Multidistrict Litigation against Merck. I put myself out there in hopes that I could save one woman from enduring my hell. I love with all of my heart and in a sheer moment of utter disaster my passion was born.
My purpose is clear “educate those around me about the dangers of hormonal contraceptives, blood clots, stroke and pulmonary embolism warning signs.” I will not rest until the Nuva Ring is pulled from he market and until doctors properly inform their patients of the risk associated with the use of hormonal contraceptives. Charlie was the one who pushed me to share my story with the world. He took up my mission and would stand in the wings watching me with tears in his eyes as I brought tears to the audience. I am alive today because I listed to my heart.
When Charlie died my heart was broken and it healed each time I held our niece in my arms. Each time I heard her laughter, held her tiny hand in mine, and listen to her whisper Auntie” for the first time. To think the Nuva Ring almost robbed me of those moments. My birth control almost cheated me out of being an aunt. The Nuva Ring almost claimed my life and it changed me in more ways than I could ever explain. However it will never ever stop me from loving Sophia with all of my surviving heart. Sophia will grow up with the notion that she is one lucky little girl. Because she could be holding a picture of the woman she calls Auntie. Instead she gets to hold her aunties hand and play. She is lucky because God allowed her Aunt to be the 1 out of 5 who got to walk away from a massive pulmonary embolism on October 22, 2009.
As I watch Sophia unwrap her gifts I will be thinking about all of my sisters who lost the battle. About all of those who would gladly take my seat at the table and those who are fighting with all of their hearts. Families will gather and thousands of children will hear stories about the women they never got to meet. Heart disease, strokes, and pulmonary embolisms are taking to many aunties out of the equation. To many children are walking in memory of the woman they never got to call “Auntie” and never got to love with all of their hearts.
For the first time I found myself able to sit down and watch A Charlie Brown Christmas without bawling. Christmas 2012 was hard, I mas deeply missing my partner in crime and I still harbored a lot of anger towards the drunk driver. Blinded I wasn’t able to see how incredibly blessed I was and I let the magic of Christmas slip through my fingers. Ba humbug perfectly described my mood, I wore a smile to hide the pain I was feeling inside.
I didn’t think my heart would heal and that I would be able to forgive. A healthy heart harbors no hate and a healthy heart is a happy heart. I had no room in my life for hatred or anger, I needed to heal on my own and to find my way. I choose to heal by doing something Charlie loved. I spent my summer walking the shores looking for glass to fill his half empty jar and with each piece my heart began to heal. I was able to love again and soon I felt like my old self. My heart will never be fully healed, the glue with hold it together and one day I will place my broken heart in the hands of another man. He will look beyond the scars and inside he will find a beautifully broken soul.
A soul that has a soft spot for beggars on a cold winters night. One who tries her hardest to find the bright side in every situation and one who never gives up. I am an unsinkable ship crashing against the waves. One who does everything in her power to make the lives of those around her better. One who cries at a song, finds joy in the smallest things, and lives a beautifully designed chaotic life.
The other day I was listening to KOOL108 when “Three Ships” came on and I was over come with sadness. Not the oh my I am so devastated sadness, but the good kind. You see “Three Ships” was Charlie’s favorite Christmas song. He would listen to it over and over on his iPod and would often sing along in his very out of tune voice. He would sing “Three Ships while in the shower in the middle of July, in the car in March, and would wake me up singing “Three Ships” in December. At the time I was annoyed and now I would give anything to hear his out of tune voice singing “Three Ships” from the top of his lungs. Until the song came on I had forgotten how much he loved it, it was the reminder that I needed to find the joy in the simplest things and to keep on singing. To keep on singing my song until I find my way home.
Tonight I found myself singing “Three Ships” while doing dishes and then I remembered that “A Charlie Brown Christmas” was on tonight. A huge part of me didn’t want to tread the waters and flipped the channel, the other part wanted to give it a shot. I sat with the Kleenex on my lap, to my surprise I didn’t need them. Instead of tears, I was filled with joy and found myself repeating some of the lines to the muppet like dog. Charlie loved “A Charlie Brown Christmas” and he would watch it as much as he could during the month of December. One can’t blame the man, his mother after all did name him after the little bald-headed character. Charlie knew the lines by heart and would often burst out with “All I want are 10s and 20s. All I want is what I have coming to me!” To Charlie December was about living through the eyes of a child, about finding the wonder in the every day, and spreading as much kindness as he could.
Even though Charlie is gone, it finally feels like Christmas, like Christmas should. I find myself looking for the spectacular in the every day and spreading as much kindness as I can. I am only one soul on this earth and I am doing my best to take care of my tiny part of the globe. I decided to get my shopping done early this year so that I could focus on my family and friends. I want to spend my holiday moments with the people I love and not in some checkout line. I want to watch Sophia’s eyes light up as the fireworks race across the cold night sky and to sing “Three Ships” to her as she drifts off to dreamland.
I ask all of you to sing your song and to follow your heart until you find your way home. Enjoy the journey and learn from the lessons. Spend time with your family, hug them tight, whisper more I love yous than you can count, because life will be over in the blink of an eye. The greatest Christmas gift does not come in a box with a fancy tag, it comes from the heart, the greatest gift of all is the gift of love.
I saw three ships come sailing in
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day;
I saw three ships come sailing in
On Christmas Day in the morning.
Pray, wither sailed those ships all three,
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day;
Pray, wither sailed those ships all three,
On Christmas Day in the morning.
There are moments were I feel like the little girl from Schindler’s list. You know the little girl in the one scene of the movie where everything is in black and white except for her red coat. Over the past four years I have heard more stories of pulmonary embolism loss than survival. I realize that only 1 out of 5 patients will survive a pulmonary embolism, yet it still moves me. Long ago I stopped asking God why he spared me and called another home in my place. At some point you stop wondering and start living. Living my life is the only way I know how to honor the four people who died so I could be the one who walked away. I vowed to make every year, month, week, day, hour, minute, and second of my life count, as I know I am living on borrowed time.
I have crisscrossed this country, speaking in church basements, town halls, elementary school classrooms, and college campuses educating women on the side effects of birth control. Educating women on heart health, blood clots, and mostly empowering them to be their own health care advocate. They listen wide-eyed as I tell my tale and go over the symptoms/warning signs. Only to find tears in their eyes as they realize that I almost died five days before my 27th birthday.
That out of anything I say is what sticks with people, the fact that I almost died five days before my 27th birthday. I can still see my Mam’s face as she walked into my room, her fear was so thick you could have cut it with a knife, her eyes filled with tears as she whispered “It should be my laying in that bed, you are to damn young for this.” She took my hand, rubbed my head, and promised me that we were going to beat this. She allowed me to cry for one minute and then I had to put my big girl pants on and fight. I had IVs coming from all directions, wires and leads tapped to every limb, in that moment my future looked bleak, yet I knew that this would pass, and that I would bounce back.
I’ve wasted enough precious time thinking about what I can’t have or do. Its taken a while but I have come t terms with the notion that I will never carry a child of my own, that I will not run a marathon, or climb a mountain. Instead I now focus on what I can do, I can adopt a child, walk a 5K really fast with my sister, and I will settle for the top of a hill any day. Most of all I can use my story to help educate my girlfriends and strangers about the deadly side effects of birth control. I can share my story with my Legislators, Congressmen, and Representatives, to strengthen the fact that we need more research on Heart Disease and Stroke in women.
My pulmonary embolism was the ER staffs main concern and my slight stroke was just a bonus. They both wreaked havoc on my body, yet I am still standing. When I look in the mirror I no longer see flaws, instead I see a body that’s been through hell and back. I see a body that survived a pulmonary embolism with infarction and a stroke, I have no doubt that it will carry me through a lot more. I have come to terms with the fact that I will never have my pre-PE/Stroke body back. I am just happy to be standing.
I am haunted by a comment my Mama made, she said “if my daughter didn’t get to the hospital when she did, I would have been picking out her urn instead of her 27th Halloween themed birthday cake.” That comment humbles me and reminds me how close I cam to death that day. My heart goes out to the families who have had to bury a loved one who died unexpectedly from a pulmonary embolism. That’s the thing, they are silent, and one never knows that they have a blood clot in their lungs until its to late. Most don’t even know why their child suddenly dropped dead, that is until the autopsy results confirm that they died of a blood clot in their lungs. I think about the women who never got to hold their niece, about the fathers who never got to walk their daughters down the isle, and about the women who were called home all to soon.
I live each day of my life for all of the women who died and for all of my survivor sisters still fighting the good fight. I will stand with my survivor sisters as we continue our wrongful injury/product liability suit against the makers of the Nuva Ring. One day justice will prevail, the souls of the lost will rest, and the broken will heal.
THANK YOU: A day doesn’t go by where I do not think about my care team at Woodwinds Health campus. Because of the ER staffs quick thinking and action I am alive today. I am alive because the doctor stopped what he was doing to ask me “by chance do you use birth control?” Extra test were ordered, a CT scan was given, and with in 30 minutes the clot was found. It was found because of that one little question and I am forever in debt to him. My stroke was stopped in its tracks because of the thrombolytics I received and for that I am forever grateful. I wouldn’t be alive today if it were not for the Doctors and nurses of Woodwinds, for they put this broken girl back together again and sent her back out into the world.
I can read a benefits packet and analyze a prescription drug formulary like no buddy’s business. For three years I worked for the nations largest Pharmacy Benefit management company and was taught the ins and outs of the insurance world. I received numerous calls from people trying to get medications covered for pre-existing conditions. The only thing I could do was offer up prior authorization or connect them to a pharmacist to look for a covered option.
At 27 I was a freshly divorced pulmonary embolism/stroke survivor, I quit my job, and found myself trying to get insurance in a world that didn’t want to cover a risk. I was no longer seen as AmandaJean, instead I was seen as a pre-existing condition, a drain on an insurance plan. I was young and vibrant, yet my PE plagued me. I searched for an affordable plan, the cheapest one I found was $700 a month for sub par coverage. I couldn’t find fulltime employment, instead I became a contractor and that offers no benefits what so ever. From October 2010 to June 2012 I went without health insurance.
Going without health insurance was like jumping into shark infested waters without a cage. I quickly learned how much medications really cost and had to decide between picking up my medications or paying my student loans. Needless to say my medications trumped my student loan payment and soon the collection calls started. Medical bills started piling up and before I knew it I was $10,000.00 in the hole. CT scans and echocardiograms are not cheap, neither are trips to the ER or urgent care. Since I didn’t have insurance I would try any over the counter remedy before giving in and going to the doctor. The Doctors I saw knew I was a self pay and they did their best to hook me up with samples and alternative care.
In the fall of 2011, I worked myself almost to death and managed to get a staph infection in my knee. I begged and pleaded with the doctor to let me go home, I told him “I can’t afford this, just let me go.” I got to go home four days later and waited for the bills to come. I cried when I saw the total and cashed in my 401K to pay most of the bill off. Only to find myself racking up new and bigger hospital bills. By the time Christmas rolled around I was desperately searching for a job that would offer me good health insurance. I went back to what I knew and took a job at a collections firm. I know, collections is not my cup of tea, however their insurance plan was.
I cried the day my insurance card came in the mail. I finally didn’t have to worry about paying full price for medications or services. I had insurance and I was happy. My job with the collections firm was short-lived, I found myself without a job in January 2013 and I knew one thing: “I was not going to go without insurance again.” I set out and search for an individual plan. The prices had come down quiet a bit since my last search and I knew I could not be denied this time around, thank you Affordable Health Care Act. I decided on an individual plan with HealthPartners, I filled out the online application and waited to receive my certificate of coverage in the mail.
At first I though HealthPartners was playing a joke on me and that the stated premium amount was wrong. I called and spoke to a representative, she double checked, and said AmandaJean that’s right your premium is $94.63 per month. After a long pause, she realized that I was crying. I explained to her that having affordable insurance meant I could hold out for the job I wanted and not rush into something that would give me insurance. By the end of our conversation she was crying right along with me, HealthPartners gave me peace of mind and my life back.
MNSure is an incredible idea and now thousands of Minnesotans will be able to apply for insurance without having to worry about pre-existing conditions and cost. On Tuesday night I logged onto the site and was very impressed by the easy to navigate layout and the types of plans offered. The online form is simple to fill out and asks you questions about income, family size, health habits and so on. Once you sign up for an account you are able to see what your real estimated premium would be and review the options best suited to you.
While MNSure is not the perfect answer, it is a good start and it provides easy access to health insurance for many Minnesotans. Best part is if you are like me and have a pre-existing condition you can no longer be denied nor can you be forced to pay a higher premium than your healthy counterparts. I learned the hard way: going without insurance is a bad idea one cannot afford to go without health insurance. Insurance is now an affordable option and there are many resources out there to help you in your insurance decision.
Charlie left behind a quarter filled jar of sea glass
One night while strolling through one of our favorite boutique shops in Minneapolis, Charlie spotted a glass jar. I politely told him that the jar was meant for a candle and not sea glass. Charlie looked at me with his grin and said “AJ, it says beach on it, a jar that says beach on it, is meant to be filled with sea glass. Duh?” Ok I said and we walked up to the counter to purchase his crazy jar. That was in September of 2011, the jar sat on the island in the kitchen for months.
Upon his return from the beach Charlie religiously deposited a piece of new sea glass into his jar. He would tell me that dark blue was the hardest to find and the most common was clear or green. Charlie has been mesmerized by sea glass since he was a child, often filling multiple jars by summers end. His mother kept all of his jars, each piece represented the mystery of the ocean and his joy of searching the beach. Charlie loved the water and we often spent our weekends on the shores of Lake Superior. I can still picture him on his knees scouring the beach for tiny pieces of treasure. With each piece he found, he safely tucked the glass into his pocket and when his pockets were full, he often turned to me. I would hold his treasure tightly in my hand only to drop it into the jar his mother kept on the back porch.
Charlie would save a few pieces for the jar on the island and often filled it with pieces of glass he found on the beaches around Minneapolis. He bought the jar in September which limited his time to search. Winter came and his jar was only a quarter full, he’d say “I am going to fill our jar this summer.” Summer never came for Charlie, he left before the waves could even break free from the ice and his jar sat half empty waiting for his return. I packed his jar away, my heart was too broken to have the constant reminder sitting out in my home.
I have always loved the beach and would search the sandy grave for hidden treasures. As a child I would collect clam shells, sparkly rocks, and pieces of glass. My father’s pockets proved to be the safest spot for my treasures, he would empty my bounty when we reached the car. I stored my shells, rocks, and glass in a bucket. Over time it got lost, yet my desire to walk the shores remained.
Earlier this summer I decided to finish filling Charlie’s jar. When I visit my parents we go to the beach, my Dad helps me search the shores for Charlie’s treasure. Each time I place a handful of glass and shells into his beloved jar, a part of me heals. I am at a point in the process where I am ok with Charlie being gone and have become open to letting someone else in. As we walk the beach my Dad tells me “No one will ever replace Charlie or fill the void you have, but you have to move on. There is someone out there for you.” My Dad is right, I will never be able to replace Charlie, he will always be a part of who I am. Charlie taught me that its ok to let go and to live life outside of the lines.
Just like Charlie, the sea glass that captured his sense of wonder will always be apart of who I am. For I am just a girl who collects sea glass to fill the empty jar that the man she loved left behind. Filling the jar is my way of saying goodbye. With each piece added I am letting go of the past and healing my beautifully broken heart.
As I charted my future on vision boards, I never once added DIVORCE to the grand plan. Then again I never thought I’d fall in love and get married. At 22 I was focused on finding my way to law school and plotting to change the world. All it took was his brown eyes looking back at mine, law school and my plot blew away with the wind. He told me once “when one dream ends, you make a new one.” That was probably the only wise thing he ever told me. Our marriage was my dream, little by little that dream started to fade and I needed to flee the darkness.
Scott and I had brief moments in the sun. There were cruises, movie nights, laughter, and waterslides. Together it was Bear and Mr. against the world. We were suppose to be a team, yet we were foes. He strayed while I stayed home to raise his son. I went to sleep alone each night as he remained devoted to Magic, WOW, and his flavor of the week. I spent more nights alone than I did with him, yet some how I mustered an “I Love you” when he walked through the door. To the world we were the perfect couple who had it all, behind closed doors we were a disaster.
They say a lady always knows when to leave. I stood on the edge of the unknown for months, friends and family tried to give me a push, only to find me griping at straws. It took the advice of an attorney to get me to take that first step. His words still ring through my mind “Amanda, there are no winners or losers in divorce. It all comes down to a judgment call. Its just someone has to call it first.” I needed someone to tell me it was ok to walk away and to give up the war, he said what I needed to hear. With those words spoken and with he notion that it was ok, I walked away from my suburban married life. I walked away from a man who no longer loved me and I walked into the unknown.
The unknown has turned into a beautiful disaster. Over the past three years I have fallen more times than I can count, yet each day brings me back to the side of that mountain. I have had my share of heart ache and more moments of utter delight than one could ever count. Mostly I figured out who AmandaJean was without a man by her side. I learned that I didn’t need a boyfriend/fiancé/ or husband to define who I was. Finding myself was a journey and one that I had to go through to discover my version of happy. I am just a small town girl who set out to change the world.
On the day I left Scott told me “You will never make it on your own.” Those words haunt me to this day and every time I crash his voice seeps into my mind. I’ve come to realize that Scott was the one who couldn’t make it on his own, he practically had a girl moved in two weeks after I left. He doesn’t know how to be alone and he needs a woman at his side to define who he is. I on the other hand love sleeping smack dab in the middle of the bed and sometimes I am a dare devil and leave a cup in the sink over night. I had to be alone for a while to show myself that I could stand on my own, before I stood on the arm of a man. In the past three years men have come and gone. Just like Charlie, Scott will always be apart of my story. One cannot revel in the sun without dancing in the rain.
Fate is a funny little thing we can’t live without. Only she knows what the future holds for us. I’ve decided to late fate ride and to focus on my career and starting a family of my own. That’s right, you read that correctly. I have decided to become a single mom and have started looking into the adoption process. The past three years have taught me that I do not need a man to have a child, all I need is an open mind and love in my heart. At this point I don’t care about gender, I just want to adopt a healthy child. I can tell you that I have never been more scared in my life, yet I know that its meant to be. If I can wrangle attorneys from 9 to midnight, then I can sure as hell adopt a child on my own.
In truth, I have come farther on my own than I ever thought possible. It turns out that Scott’s words were more for him than me. Because from what I can tell I am standing on my own two feet. My bills are paid, I have a job that I love, I am happy, and I am perfectly fine with sleeping single in a queen sized bed. I am ok with being me and I am happy in my own skin. It took me three years to find my groove and I have no doubt that I will continue to conquer the world.
Have Bear Will Travel 