Sometimes I wonder if I am the only person who feels the need to be completely prepared for any type of emergency at all times. Or, have I finally crossed the line into full-blown-crazyville? I will let you, my darling readers, decide.
But first, I should probably explain myself. There are two specific reasons for my obsessive compulsive behavior.
1. It’s no secret that I’ve spent most of my life overly concerned with the threat of a fire because I’ve already told you that story. But just to refresh your memory, ever since I was a little girl, before I could go to sleep, I would pack up my favorite things and place them neatly inside of a milk crate. And then I sleptwith that milk crate while cuddling my beloved items. I performed this ritual every single night – just in case – there was ever a fire and we had to run out of the house; I could easily escape with my milk crate and all of my treasured belongings.
And this went on for years.
In fact, it still kind of does.
Except now I don’t keep my favorite things inside of a milk crate.
Nope.
Now I keep everything I cannot live without inside my gigantic purple pocketbook.
Even though I have never been in a house fire, or even near a house fire, I am constantly obsessed with anything that might have the slightest possibility of suddenly exploding or bursting into flames.
Case. In. Point.
The furnace in my house is an extra special type of furnace. Mostly because it comes with some pretty neat bonus features such as: squealing, screeching, and other horrifying sound effects. The type of sound effects that can, and will, wake you up in the middle of the night, thus compounding your overwhelming irrational fears.
Plus, the way my house is designed, if my furnace were to actually spontaneously combust? Both my son and I would be completely trapped with no way out – unless we jumped out of our second story windows. As clearly demonstrated in the diagram below. Which is precisely why I like having my bag packed, and ready to go, at a moments notice, much like a pregnant woman in her third trimester.
2. I live with some pretty Annoying Medical Conditions. And because of those Annoying Medical Conditions, I never know when I might suddenly have an allergic reaction, or a crohn’s attack, or become violently ill, or be rushed to the hospital, or how long I will be stuck there.
And since there is no way I can last longer than 24 hours without my precious belongings and my homemade survival kits, when I leave the house, even for something as simple as going across the street to CVS to pick up my prescriptions, I bring everything I can. And by everything. I really mean everything.
Let’s take a look INSIDE my pocketbook.
Shall we?
*Not shown here: A complete set of pajamas, a pair of socks, and underwear. Because oddly enough, while those items DO fit inside of my pocketbook, they did NOT fit inside of this photo.
* Also, the red folder contains 968 pages of the novel I am currently working on. And even though I have it saved everywhere: online, in word documents, in emails, and on external hard drives, I still have to carry an actual paper copy of it with me.
And I wonder why my back hurts all the time.
So tell me boys and girls.
What’s in your bag?
And, what would you grab in the event of an emergency?
I think it’s especially fitting the two of you were married on Valentines Day because your love is the kind of love that inspires fairy tales, and romantic movies, complete with happily ever after endings.
I love you both with my whole entire heart.
This is my gift to you.
Thank you, Mom and Dad, for showing me what True Love looks like.
Happy Anniversary.
Here’s to the next twenty years!
* PS: If you’re interested in watching the totally-super-sappyversion, complete with their actual wedding song, feel free to click on over to my Viddler Channel which can be found HERE.
Growing up together we were inseparable. Like peas and carrots. We were as close as any two siblings could be. And my happiest childhood memories are the times I shared with you.
Whether we were spying on mommy, or inventing our own secret language, we created an unbreakable bond. An unbreakable bond that’s withstood the test of time, even when we were 3,000 miles apart from each other, and even during those six years we didn’t have very much interaction.
On this day, I want to tell you just how much you mean to me and just how important you are. However, I can’t seem to find the words big enough to express how blessed I am to have you as my brother. Or how happy it makes me to spend time with you now, as if we were still children.
People say, “you can’t pick your family,” but if I could, I would choose YOU for my brother, every single time.
You have risen above the dust and the painful ashes from the past.
You possess a powerful gift by bringing pure moments of joy into other peoples lives, simply with your fabulous sense of humor. Your unconditional love and total devotion to your family keeps me in awe. You have become such an amazing man. And you have become such an incredible father.
I am ever so proud of you and ever so lucky to know you.
Happy birthday, my baby brother!
You’re still my very best friend in the whole wide world.
I love you with all of my heart.
Love,
Melbatoast.
** The complete set of birthday photos can be found on my Flickr account by clicking HERE.
Once upon a time, there was a girl named Meleah. She was a free-spirited, good-time-having, happy-go-lucky, kind of girl, filled with whimsical hopes and dreams. She lived to laugh. And she liked to imagine a world with endless possibilities.
But then one day, everything changed.
First she got sick.
And then she got sicker.
And then everything went to hell.
Because of these annoying medical conditions, Meleah has good days. And Meleah has bad days. But as of late, Meleah has had more bad days, than good days.
And this makes Meleah really, really, really, sad.
And very, very, very, frustrated.
But mostly – really, really, really, sad.
Because Meleah can no longer enjoy a lot of the things she once loved doing. And her days of being a free-spirited, good-time-having, happy-go-lucky, kind of girl, filled with whimsical hopes and dreams, have since become a faded memory.
Meleah spent countless nights, hopelessly crying, and wallowing in self-pity. Pangs of rage filled her clenched fists and she cursed the heavens above.
Except Meleah doesn’t like to dwell in those dark places.
Mostly because, Meleah is scared of the dark. And dwelling takes up entirely too much energy.
So, Meleah searched for an outlet because she desperately needed a coping mechanism, aside from obsessively making her bed. And a coping mechanism that could provide some level of comfort and possibly even a glimmer of happiness.
At first, Meleah wasn’t sure if she could express her true feelings, or fully divulge the reality of her annoying medical conditions, because unlike some other crazy people wandering around the Internet, Meleah does not use her annoying medical conditions as a means for seeking attention, or to gain sympathy. In fact the term, “Poor, Meleah” makes her cringe.
However, wrestling with those enormously overwhelming feelings, slowly began to crush her soul. So Meleah had to do something, and she had to do something quickly, in order to stop circling the emotional drain.
And then…
One day, about a year ago, Meleah decided to try and ‘Find The Funny’ surrounding one of her health issues.
Instead of hiding in her bed, sobbing hysterically, and drowning in a sea of shame, Meleah took a chance when she posted one of her most horrifying experiences, publicly.
And even though it mostly focused on women’s issues and not necessarily her annoying medical conditions, that very post, opened one very important door for Meleah. Because something miraculous happened when Meleah realized there were so many people capable of identifying with her. But even more importantly, she realized there were so many people willing to laugh WITH her.
Especially when she received comments like these:
“There is no such thing as TMI! Our mothers never warned us what the female body is truly capable of so we are scared and ashamed of it until someone who lives the TMI lifestyle pops on the subject. Then suddenly the clouds part and everything makes sense and we are at one and embrace them. Whoever said Meleah’s posts weren’t educational AND hysterical?”
And that comment was extremely important to Meleah.
* Because it took away the power of humiliation, immediately. *
And that’s when Meleah thought, maybe, just maybe, I should do this more often? And then she thought, maybe it’s my civic duty to keep the men and women in my life well informed, about real issues, with real descriptions, no matter how embarrassing and or disgusting they might be?
And from that moment on Meleah decided she would never be too afraid, or too ashamed, to post anything online again. And that’s how she first became known as ‘The Queen’ of too much information.
Over these past few months, Meleah has been facing yet another challenging health crisis. Maybe even the toughest health crisis she’s ever had to face. And she really wasn’t sure if she should talk about it, in graphic detail, on her blog?
It’s gross. It’s depressing. And most people would probably keep these kinds of topics and these kinds of issues a private matter. And sometimes Meleah worries that people are getting sick of hearing about her being sick, because she’s certainly sick of talking about being sick. And she’s definitely sick of being sick.
* And also, she is tired of receiving unsolicited advice, from uninformed people. *
So Meleah didn’t write about what’s been happening.
At least not here.
Meleah only posted a few things on Flickr and Facebook with status updates and photos. But Meleah has a lot of blogging friends, who really care about her, that are NOT on Flickr and Facebook. And they’ve been asking a lot questions about her extended absences online. And they’ve been asking a lot of questions about her annoying medical conditions.
Normally, Meleah does not feel compelled to explain any of her absences to anyone. However, because she loves and respects her friends so very much, she’s going to dive right in, and give up all the gory details.
And, also…
* Because it takes away the power of humiliation, immediately. *
A few months ago, Meleah was sent for all kind of tests and all kinds of exams. And that’s when Meleah learned several new medical terms, most of which she couldn’t pronounce, let alone spell. And then she was introduced to an extensive team of special doctors, working round the clock, in order to get a handle on these issues.
Luckily, she found the worlds greatest General Practitioner, who oversees the other specialists while doling out Urgent Care and Vitamin Injections on a weekly basis. Meleah also has a Rheumatologist for Lupus, Rheumatoid Arthritis, and Sjogren’s Syndrome, a Gastroenterologist for Crohn’s Disease, an Endocrinologist for Hashimoto Thyroiditis, and an Immunologist/Allergist for her intense anaphylaxis and angioedema reactions to food, because she is allergic to all of the foods on this list.
Meleah knows that was a whole lot of information in the paragraph above. And it probably requires at least one more punctuational period somewhere in there. Meleah also knows it’s a whole lot of information which probably doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, to people without autoimmune diseases. But that’s okay. Because that’s not entirely why she brought you here today. Except that it kind of is.
Speaking of autoimmune diseases, unfortunately, because of the severity of Meleah’s annoying medical conditions, she is typically scheduled for 2-5 different doctor appointments, every single week. Which doesn’t leave very much time for anything else, like writing or reading blog posts, or replying to emails, or even answering text messages. Autoimmune diseases are not like having a cold, where once it’s over, you get better.
There are no cures.
There are only treatments and medications.
Lots, and lots, and lots of medications.
Which work. Sometimes.
Except when they don’t.
And some of those medications are immune suppressants, which only puts Meleah at a much higher risk for getting infections, such as strep throat, the flu, bronchitis, etcetera. And since she spends most of her time inside doctor offices WITH ALL OF THE OTHER SICK PEOPLE, she is forever suffering from some kind of aliment.
So when December rolled around, Meleah just thought she had some type of stomach virus, which is totally plausible, considering she’s always in doctor offices WITH ALL OF THE OTHER SICK PEOPLE. And because she hadn’t experienced an episode with Crohns in over eighteen months, it was the furthest thing from her mind.
Until….
After three days of explosive and uncontrollable intestinal issues, I started expelling blood clots. Actual blood clots, like you get from a really bad period. Only they came from my asshole and they were the size of my fist, for five hours. At 9am, I was admitted to the hospital, via ambulance, where I continued to expel blood clots, every 15 minutes, for another 20 hours, in a row, while receiving intravenous antibiotics, intravenous fluids, and intravenous painkillers. Three days later, when the bleeding subsided, and tests were completed, I was released from the hospital and referred back to my gastrointestinal doctor. I was placed on a clear liquid diet and I scheduled for a full GI work up.
Meleah wants you to know that she temporarily freaked out after posting her saga and that photo on Flickr for the whole wide world to see. And then Meleah considered deleting it altogether. But then, she received this email from one of her friends:
“You may be poor in health, but you’re definitely rich with friends. And you reward them with the sort of openness and complete honesty that people can’t help but admire…and be in awe of, frankly. Your mind, as it always was, is sharp as a knife and powerful as a jet engine, your body will catch back up soon.”
And that made Meleah cry, happy tears, for the first time in weeks, because even after she revealed the most disgusting details surrounding a crohns attack, she was magically freed from the shackles of shame.
* Because it took away the power of humiliation, again. *
A few short days later and still suffering from severe intestinal issues, Meleah had to face yet another degrading act, all in the name of her annoying health issues.
But this time…
She decided to be bolder, and braver, than she’d ever been.
And she went ahead and posted this on Facebook.
The gastrointestinal doctor needs a special “sample” in order to rule out a specific infection before he can schedule my colonoscopy & endoscopy. These are the proper “supplies” to handle my morning business. I seriously cannot believe I have to set an alarm clock, only to shit in a bucket, and transport it back to the hospital for testing, before 10am. WHO ELSE CAN SAY THAT? And I am such a nervous wreck, even my vagina is sweaty. Anyone wanna trade lives for a day?
For a very brief moment, Meleah worried she may have pushed the TMI envelope a little too far, even for her. But she was wrong. And she knew she was wrong when she saw these comments:
“You just made my morning with that comment and picture, even though I was reading it while having my breakfast.”
“I know I am not suppose to be laughing but how you worded everything is a trip.”
“I don’t know how you hold on to your sense of humor. You’re amazing.”
“This just made my day and I really needed the laugh. Also, I totally would take one for the team and trade you for a day. I’m such a giver.”
“Vagina sweating? I have been there. Tell it to stop being such a pussy.”
And with that, Meleah was able to carry her own bag of shit, into that hospital, with her head held high, and a smile on her face.
* Because posting in on the Internet took away the power of humiliation, again. *
And not only that, but Meleah discovered she had amazing friends willing trade lives for a day. And she also discovered she is lucky enough to have friends that are willing to admit really embarrassing things about themselves too.
And that makes me Meleah feel like she’s not alone.
And that makes Meleah a lot less sad.
After three weeks of non-stop diarrhea, and losing 16 pounds, Meleah was scheduled for her colonoscopy.
She knew exactly what she was going to have to deal with. And she knew exactly what the outcome would be when the results came back, because Meleah has colonoscopies every six months. Nevertheless, drinking that god-awful prep the night before a colonoscopy is NEVER a good time, for anyone.
So once again, Meleah called upon her beloved Internet, to see her through another horrible procedure.
Without fail, Meleah’s friends managed to make her laugh when they said things like…
“I just read that as “Super Bowl Party Prep Kit.”
“I’ve been thinking about maybe having a Super Bowl party. Could be one hell of a game day margarita!”
“Good thing I usually take time to read the label twice… This doesn’t sound nearly as fun as a Super Bowl party.”
“I don’t see Doritos or onion dip on the package?”
Meleah wasn’t exactly sure how Kathy would respond. But she was totally super happy when she read her reply.
“OMG, Mel!!!!! You are my hero! I said “Oh my God” just before you did, when you poured all that shit in a cup. Loved this!!!! Thank you and wishing you the very best colonoscopy tomorrow. You know, a fun one.”
And even though Meleah was riddled with anxiety the day of her procedure, complete with pit stains and vaginal sweat, at least Meleah had Kathy’s comment, “you’re my hero,” to think about about, right before they knocked her out with propofol.
When Meleah returned home from her colonoscopy, she slept, and slept, and slept, like she hadn’t slept in years.
But when she awoke the following day, her face felt very strange. As if she’d been punched in the mouth. And when she ran over to the mirror, she was greeted with an unpleasant reflection.
It was the very same reflection she saw the day after she was released from the hospital.
Apparently any time my body goes through any sort of trauma [such as hospitalization and/or colonoscopy] because of my annoying medical conditions, my immune system immediately kicks into over drive and releases excessive amounts of histamine throughout my blood stream. My body thinks it’s protecting itself, when in reality it’s attacking itself. Thus my giant, fat, puffy, swollen, upper lip. This also sends my body into a Lupus/Rheumatoid flair up causing all of the joints in my hands, knees, and feet, to become inflamed. I was unable to manipulate any utensils, or even hold a cup, let alone type a text message, or a post a facebook status update.
Luckily, this happened on a Friday, and Meleah was already scheduled for her weekly Vitamin Injections. After she received a healthy dose of Vitamin B12 they gave her two more injections of Prednisone and Benadryl. And even though Meleah is completely terrified of needles, she was never so happy to get shot in the ass, because her symptoms subsided within a few hours.
Through all of this, the absolute worst thing for Meleah has been the feeling of utter powerlessness. Because there is nothing she can do about any of this. It’s completely out of her control. It doesn’t matter what she eats, or what she doesn’t eat, or how careful she is, or how many nights she stays at home and no longer socializes in real life for fear of getting sick, or how after being poked with so many needles, and prodded with so many Medical Devices, the last thing she wants is to be touched by another human being.
Because even when she IS totally-super-careful, and stays locked inside her own personal bubble, also known as her purple paradise, sometimes she still wakes up in the morning, with a cold, and bronchitis, and a sinus infection, and swollen joints, and an anaphylaxis allergic reaction, for no fucking reason whatsoever.
Seriously? Again? This is the THIRD time in THREE weeks. The day I came home from the hospital = BOOM fat, puffy, lip. The day after my colonoscopy = BOOM fat, puffy, lip. Now I’m sick with bronchitis = BOOM fat, puffy, lip. According to my Medical Team Of Doctors, because my body is in a constant state of PURE distress when ONE thing flairs up – so does EVERYTHING else.
The only thing Meleah has any control over, is her mental state and her emotional reactions to these situations. Except when she doesn’t. And that’s when her family, and friends, and the Internet comes in.
Because through all of this?
The BEST PART has been learning just how lucky she is to have people in her life to help ‘Find The Funny’ even when she can’t.
And even more people to hold her hand, and tell her everything will be okay, when she needs it the most.
Meleah will continue to share entirely too much information.
And she will continue to post disgusting photos.
* Because it continues to take away the power of humiliation *
And also… because it makes her laugh. And laughter really is the best medicine.
Thank you, Internet.
For loving me unconditionally.
I love you too.
I would never be able to handle this without all of your friendships.
Lastly, now that you’ve been completely informed with respects to Meleah’s annoying medical conditions, she worked really hard to put together this Video Montage of what it’s really like, Living With Autoimmune Diseases, accompanied by a kick-ass soundtrack.
It’s not just because I collect social security due to my failing health issues. And it’s not just because I receive Medicare, like people who are 70 years old, and bitch about the astronomical cost of my prescriptions.
It’s not just because I live like a retired person on a golf course. It’s not just because sometimes I might require In Home health care. And it’s not just because my knees tell me when it’s going to rain or snow.
It’s not just because I pee in my pants when I laugh or when I sneeze. It’s not just because my bowels are highly explosive and quite unpredictable, which has caused me to lose 16 pounds in the past three weeks, and I can no longer properly digest dairy products, or drink coffee. And, it’s not just because all I have to talk about are my crazy health issues and/or fecal matter; including but not limited to, shitting into a bucket, first thing in the morning.
It’s not just because I listen to the television on the highest volume, constantly ask people to repeat themselves, and shout most of my responses – because I’m practically deaf. It’s not just because I have night blindness and no sense of direction while driving. And it’s not just because I have to wear contact lenses and reading glasses.
It’s not just because I cannot remember a god damned thing unless I write it down immediately, or forget why I walked into a room, or ever seem to find my keys. And it’s not just because I have crows feet around my eyes, wrinkles on my forehead, laugh lines around my mouth, and stray nipple hair that suddenly appear out of nowhere.
And it’s definitely not just because I take more medications and spend more time in doctor offices and hospitals, wearing paper gowns, than most people who are 90, so wearing pajamas is actually like being dressed up.
Nope.
It’s because in addition to my grey chin hair and in addition to my grey pubes?
I’ve also discovered my very first grey EYELASHES.
I am happy to be participating in a blog hop called, “My Next Big Thing.” I was tagged by fellow blogger and writer, June O’Hara, of TheNuerosis Files and asked to answer ten questions about my most recent writing project.
Here are my responses:
1. What is the working title of your book or project?
On The Pole
2. Where did the idea come from for the book or project?
I suppose life, in general.
3. What genre does it fall under, if any?
It’s a fictional story, inspired by true events.
4. If applicable, whom would you choose to play your characters in a movie?
I would love Christina Hendricks, Amy Adams, Isla Fisher, Kelly Monaco, and Vanessa Marcil to portray some of the women.
5. What is the one-sentence synopsis of your manuscript or project?
I never participate in any memes without breaking the rules so here goes.
I usually joke about this answer.
Random Person: What’s your book about?
Meleah: A young girl’s strange and erotic journey from Milan to Minsk. The lead characters name is Rochelle, Rochelle.
* Because, I would be nothing without my endless references to Seinfeld.
But in reality?
My book is an old story, really.
Good versus Evil. Right versus Wrong. Dark versus Light.
Oh, and there are: Strippers. Sex. Drugs. Rock N’ Roll.
6. Will your book or story be self-published or represented by an agency?
I would much rather prefer to be represented by an agency.
7. How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
** I’ve written about my process before. But I believe it’s worth revisiting. So I am reposting it for those whom may have missed it the first time around.
Once upon a time there live a girl named, Meleah. And in 2007, she decided to write a novel. In fact, her thoughts and ideas surrounding that novel kept her awake at night. Except that Meleah really didn’t know how to write a novel, mostly because she attended a very strange boarding school that didn’t exactly focus on education as much as it did cruel and unusual punishment. But that didn’t stop her from trying anyway.
She stayed up countless nights, diligently pecking away at they keyboard, emotionally vomiting on paper. Word after word, sentence after sentence, paragraph after paragraph, page after page, thoughts and ideas flowed, for days, and weeks, and months.
In 2009, Meleah toyed with the idea of returning to her novel, mostly because after blogging for three years, and she had a much better grasp on the written word. She had made friends with fellow writers and one person in particular was kind enough to steer Meleah in the right direction. And then she learned how to use the comma, properly. Along with other valuable tools like correct spelling, and spacing, and other necessary punctuation; all of which are basic skills Meleah never learned in high school.
Once again, she stayed up countless nights, diligently pecking away at they keyboard, emotionally vomiting on paper, rewriting and re-editing everything she has previously written. Word after word, sentence after sentence, paragraph after paragraph, page after page, thoughts and ideas flowed, for days, and weeks, and months.
But then she got sick.
And then she got sicker.
And by the end of 2009 Meleah’s world came to a sudden halt, again.
And so did her novel.
For nearly two years, Meleah’s novel stayed locked in a box, collecting dust, underneath her perfectly made bed. She never looked it. And she certainly never talked about it. She was ready to chalk it up as one of her greatest failures. She even considered burning it.
But as much as she wanted to forget all about her book, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially when the character voices screamed inside of her head. And plot twists plagued her dreams. However, when people asked about her book or how it was coming along, she would cringe at the very notion of ever returning to it.
So she came up with all kinds of excuses, and even some logical reasons, in order to avoid working on her novel, mostly because she knew just how much work it entailed, and just how difficult it would be.
And then one day in 2011, her grandfather, scolded Meleah.
“Stop being so hard on your self!” Poppa Sye shouted, after listening to her bash another piece of writing. And then he proceeded to remind Meleah, “It’s never the story you tell, it’s how you tell the story.” And then he said something she will never forget, “You, my dear, made writing about the lack of toilet paper an interesting read. The only thing holding you back is you. So get off your behind, quit playing games, and get back to writing. Will ya?”
And that very conversation, gave Meleah the inspiration, she very much needed.
Once again, Meleah stayed up countless nights, diligently pecking away at they keyboard, emotionally vomiting on paper. Word after word, sentence after sentence, paragraph after paragraph, page after page, thoughts and ideas flowed, for days, and weeks, and months.
And right before Poppa Sye passed away, Meleah promised him that she would finish her novel, no matter what.
In 2012, Meleah wrote with more passion and more dedication than ever before. She finally got real. And she finally got serious. And nothing could stand in her way. In fact, with the help of someone incredible, also known as MWJ she managed to make extraordinary strides and character developments beyond her wildest dreams. And she never felt happier, or more at peace, simply because she fully embraced her calling in life.
And once again, Meleah stayed up countless nights, diligently pecking away at they keyboard, but this time, she wasn’t emotionally vomiting on paper. Oh, no. This time she wrote with a genuine purpose. And she had a very clear direction.
Word after word, sentence after sentence, paragraph after paragraph, page after page, thoughts and ideas flowed, with an unstoppable force, only furthering her determination.
And this went on for 39 weeks.
But then the summer arrived.
And Meleah got caught up in all of the fun.
And she didn’t make any time for her novel.
Or her blog.
And then she beat herself up for letting everything fall to the wayside.
But just when she was ready to get her act together…
And even though she should be used to all of this medical nonsense, it still totally freaked her out. And then she dabbled with adventures in depression for the entire month of December, before she was forced to spend three days in the hospital from a severe Crohn’s attack.
With the new year beginning, Meleah has come to accept whatever will be will be, with respects to her health issues. Mostly because there’s not a whole lot she can do about it.
She has also learned the writing process is a very slow and very painful one. In fact, it’s probably one of the toughest jobs on the face of the earth. Meleah used to be extremely embarrassed about the progress of her novel, because while everyone else in blogville seems to be pumping out books, she isn’t even close to finishing hers. But that’s okay. Because nothing worthwhile has ever come easy.
And Meleah is learning it’s very important not to judge herself anymore. Everyone has different methods. And everyone gets different results.
Meleah is currently back on track and she’s even feeling somewhat healthier.
She has a routine, and a schedule, and everything is falling into place.
And, Meleah doesn’t care if she gets sick, or if she gets sicker, again.
She’s not coming up with excuses, again.
She’s not letting self-doubt trick her, again.
And she’s not giving up on her novel, again.
Besides, those darn characters are keeping her up at night, again.
** So…. to answer the original question, it has taken SIX years to get where I am today. But I consider 2012 as the only year I was ever truly serious about writing my novel and armed with enough education to follow it through. And you can bet your ass when I am not here blogging very often in 2013, it’s because I’m too busy working on my novel.
8. What other book or stories would you compare this story to within the genre?
A Million Little Pieces – James Frey
[In my humble opinion whether his book was true, or full of lies, it was still one hellova good read.]
9. Who or what inspired you to write this book or story?
My family. But mostly my mother, Pam. And my grandfather, Poppa Sye.
10. What else about the book or story might pique the reader’s interest?
According to my mother, the sex scenes!
I am tagging the following writers who are under no obligation to participate.
2012 was an interesting year for me, to say the least.
I really took a beating health wise.
But it wasn’t all bad.
Let’s recap.
Shall we?
In January, my dearest friend “Melody” was forced to climb Broke Box Mountain. And quite frankly, I hope she never has to climb that mountain, ever again. *shudder*
When June rolled around, I met up with some of my favorite bloggers, in real life. But I still couldn’t find my words. Then my family celebrated Father’s Day. And something as simple as new bedding CHANGED MY LIFE.
In July, two events happened that are worth mentioning. My son started driving and my blog turned six years old. The rest of the month was spent eating too much, drinking too much, and laughing too much, with my girlfriends.
August was totally uneventful. Except for that five-day stretch when we didn’t have any air conditioning and I thought I was going to die.
In September, I decided to buckle down. I spent the whole month dedicated to writing my novel. I didn’t leave the house or shower very often. And I certainly didn’t socialize very much. But, I smoked a lot of cigarettes, I drank a lot of coffee, and I made excellent progress with character developments and plot twists. I stayed up all night, every night, typing away. And it was wonderful.
Sadly, October proved to be a very hectic and very stressful month. I participated in yet another 30 Days Of Photography, which was awesome. However, that’s also when my health took a turn for the worst. And after a million tests, and a million doctors appointments, with a million different specialists, like Endocrinologists, Rheumatologists, and Neurologists – I was diagnosed with some new and scary autoimmune diseases in addition to my existing annoying medical conditions. Oh, and I turned 38 years old.
Things continued to be very hectic and very stressful in the month of November. I survived Hurricane Sandy, while simultaneously participating in two separate writing challenges: NaBloPoMo + NaNoWriMo both of which I completed. I learned how to say, “NO!” And I temporarily became day person, on accident. But once again, some more health issues came into question when I received some terrifying test results. And subsequently, I had to undergo yet another totally super scary procedure. Oh, and I might need a hearing aid. As the month dragged on, I had to teach my cleaning lady the rule about trying to talk to me, before having my morning coffee. I shared my religious family history with you. I made a list of gratitude. And I created our annual Thanksgiving Family Video.
And that’s why in December, I really needed take the month of off from blogging. I planned on staying home, staying up all night, and just working on my novel. But that’s not exactly what happened. Instead, I fell into a bit of a funk. I was really tired and extremely unmotivated. In fact, I think it’s safe to say I had a terrible case of the blues. Or a mean case of the reds.
Either way, I wasn’t writing very much. I wasn’t sleeping very well. And I didn’t do much of anything, other than stare blankly at the television. Seriously, people. I watched all 32 episodes of the TV series Life, back to back, marathon style. Then I watched all 25 episodes of the TV series Suits, back to back, marathon style. Followed by watching 59 out of 93 episodes of the TV series Rescue Me, back to back, marathon style. And then, there were several days when I couldn’t even find the strength to get out of bed.
Only there was NOTHING for me to be sad or depressed about. Which was even more frustrating. Mostly because if I could have figured out why I was feeling that way, maybe I would have been able to fix it. I tried everything to attempt to bust through my funkiness, including “forcing myself” to get up, “forcing myself” to get dressed, “forcing myself” to leave the house, and “forcing myself” to do shit. I “forced myself” to write. I “forced myself” to listen to music. I “forced myself” to sign up for BlogDash. And I “forced myself” to put one foot in front of the other.
But nothing really worked.
The entire month was spent robotically and resentfully going through the motions of life.
And just when I thought the month couldn’t get any worse?
It did.
I spent three days inside of a hospital, while strapped to a gurney, and an IV pole, because of a severe Crohn’s/Colitis Attack. But I will spare you those gory details. The day after I came home from the hospital, I had an anaphylaxis allergic reaction to one of the medications they prescribed and was rushed to Urgent Care for prednisone and benadryl injections. And I am currently taking all of these medications [3x’s a day, every day] to reduce the pain, the anxiety, the bleeding, and the swelling and inflammation in my intestines, colon, hands, feet and face. Also my doctor has NOT lifted the clear liquid diet rule, just yet. Even though it’s been a week. And that’s why my Christmas Dinner plate, looked like this. But hey, at least I was HOME for Christmas. And NOT in the hospital.
Apparently, I really needed one incredible day, with the people I love the most in this world. It was absolutely wonderful to spend time with both of my brothers, their significant others, and all of their kids. Along with the rest of my funny family and friends.
I am happy to report that I am feeling much better. And possibly even optimistic.
And that’s a wrap, people!
I am very much looking forward to a Happy and hopefully Healthy NEW YEAR!
I’ve spent countless hours thinking of ways I could make this birthday extra special for you. First, I was going to write a letter dripping with sentiment, admiration, and respect.
So I decided to chose 64 photos of you, and some with your family, and I made this little collage.
*you can click on each photo to enlarge*
And, just in case I don’t say this often enough, I want to tell you how blessed I feel every single day. My life would never be this wonderful without you in it. Thank you, for everything, especially, your unconditional love, undying support, and absolute faith in me.
I am eternally grateful.
I love you with my whole heart.
Happy 64th Birthday, Daddy!
PS: You can find the collection of my favorite “Daddy Stories & Movies” by clicking here.
![Apparently any time my body goes through any sort of trauma [such as hospitalization and/or colonoscopy] because of my annoying medical conditions, my immune system immediately kicks into over drive and releases excessive amounts of histamine throughout my blood stream. My body thinks it’s protecting itself, when in reality it’s attacking itself. Thus my giant, fat, puffy, swollen, upper lip. This also sends my body into a Lupus/Rheumatoid flair up causing all of the joints in my hands, knees, and feet, to become inflamed. I was unable to manipulate any utensils, or even hold a cup, let alone type a text message, or a post a facebook status update.](https://mommamiameaculpa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/allergy-lips-at-home.jpg)
