Dear Cleaning Lady,
I’m sure you’re not aware of my rule. And I am really not trying to be rude. However, you should probably know that NO ONE is allowed to look at me, much less talk to me, until after I’ve had at least two cups of coffee. And no one is exempt from the rule.
Not even you, Chatty McTalkerson.
Now please, for the love of all things bacon, shut the f*ck up and dust!
PS: In totally unrelated news, my novel is coming along nicely. You can see my progress over at NaNoWriMo.
“The technician missed her vein! The injection didn’t go into her blood stream! Page Dr. Lizensczhacts! STAT!” The flustered nurse screamed across the Emergency Room.
The skin on my arms bubbled up until it was covered with welts and blisters. The heart monitor beeped loudly and the oxygen mask strapped to my face felt suffocating. People in white lab coats surrounded me and pinned my body down to the hospital bed with restraints. And when Dr. Lizensczhacts arrived he jammed tiny, sharp, needles into those blisters. Popping the welts, hot, green, slime oozed out. And I thought I was going to vomit.
I sprung up in bed, mid panic attack, from that horrible nightmare, with soaking wet sheets. I never remember my dreams. And I hope I never remember another one.
I glanced at the clock.
4:00 am
I didn’t have to get out of bed until 6:00am but I decided to get up anyway, mostly because I didn’t want to have another scary dream. And also because I wanted to have enough time to mentally prepare myself for the day.
The results of my MRI revealed abnormal bone marrow and I was scheduled for a full body bone scan. I hate going to the hospital. That’s where all of the sick and dying people are. And it smells. Badly.
My mother and I arrived at 8:15am.
We registered and checked into the Outpatient ward. I filled out the necessary paperwork and waited for my name to be called. There’s something so unsettling about waiting. My mind wanders and I always end up imagining the Worst Case Scenario.
What if the machine breaks while I’m trapped inside?
What if I’m allergic to the injection?
What are they going to find anyway?
And that nightmare sure didn’t help matters.
Luckily, we didn’t have to wait very long.
“Miss Hawthorne, they’re ready for you.” The woman behind the reception desk informed me. “You can go back now.”
“Okay.” I smiled. “Thank you.”
My stomach flipped. And my heart climbed into my throat.
I grabbed my things, and my mother’s hand, as we navigated our way down the corridor.
Suddenly, a man popped out of nowhere.
“Hello! My name is Bob and I’ll be your technician today!”
I liked him immediately. And not just because he talked like Jack McFarland from the television series Will & Grace, but mostly because he was so kind, and so caring, and so understanding, and totally-super-cheerful.
“Hey, um… just so you know, I think I am more afraid of the radioactive injection than anything else. I have this terrible phobia of needles. And my veins are really crappy. And it usually takes at least 8-10 sticks for them to get the IV into my arm. And also, I have a tendency to pass out. In fact, I might faint right now just thinking about it.”
Bob smiled wide and reassured me. “Well then, it’s your lucky day, because we have a special Intravenous Therapy Team, specifically for people with phobias and crappy veins.”
“GET OUT!” I yelled in my best Elaine Benes voice.
“I’ll put a call into them right now.” Bob chirped. “In the meantime, here’s the remote control for the television. There are sugar free cookies and bottled water on the table and I also brought some books from home. Feel free to read them, and if you like any of them, feel free to take the book home with you.”
I’ve never been treated so nicely in a hospital. My mother and I looked at each other in complete disbelief. It was extremely comforting to have someone so passionate about their job and has such pride in taking care of the patients needs.
Within a matter of seconds the ‘IV Therapy Dream Team’ arrived on the scene.
“Are you Meleah?” A tiny woman softly asked.
“Uh. Yes I am.” Only I couldn’t look at the giant cart filled with needles, and IV’s, and gauze bandages, she was pushing.
“I will be taking care of your IV today.”
“M’kay.” I regressed to the age of five, “But can my mommy come with me too?”
“Of course.”
Technician Bob, my mom, the tiny IV woman, and I walked into the procedure room. I lied down on the ice-cold table, fully prepared to freak out, when my Xanax finally kicked in.
And right before the IV lady got started, another woman, an actual therapist, joined us.
“Just close your eyes and imagine you’re on a beach somewhere.” She quietly chanted.
While looking at the therapist to my right, I felt the IV woman grabbing my left arm and flinched. “But I don’t like the beach! It’s too much work. You have to carry all kinds of chairs, and towels, and coolers. And you can never find a parking space. And trying to find a bathroom is even worse. And you can never get the sand out of your vjj for weeks!”
“Okay, then.” The therapist maintained her soothing tone, “Let’s close your eyes and think of somewhere else, far, far away.”
I was just about to start singing the alphabet, when the therapist said something that made me feel totally normal.
“I think people who aren’t scared of needles have something wrong with them. It’s just your natural survival instinct kicking in.” Her freckled face beamed. “You know a sharp object is coming toward you and there’s nothing you can do about it. You’re mind just wants to protect your body.”
“Exactly!” I felt vindicated.
“Okay,” The IV woman swabbed my left hand with alcohol, “On the count of three…”
And with one quick pinch and just one stick the IV was in!
“It’s over already?” Sweat trickled down my back.
“Yes, indeed.”
I sighed relief. “Ohmygod. YAY. That wasn’t bad at all!”
“Now you just have to wait for about two hours for the radioactive material we injected to soak into your bones. You can go back home if you want, or you can go to the cafeteria for some food. But you must drink a lot of fluids before the scan.”
“Alrighty.” I smiled at my mother totally relieved the worst part was already over.
And with that the ‘IV Therapy Dream Team’ gathered their things and left.
“Okay, Meleah.” Bob walked over to the machine that performs the scan. “Let me show you how this thing works. It’s very simple and you have nothing to worry about.”
He explained everything in simple terms, like how the injection would make my bones light up so the machine could get extraordinary images with perfect clarity. And how my whole body would never be inside the donut ring at once. And how I would be able to move my head freely. And how it would probably only take about an hour, maybe even less.
And once I realized how simple the actual scan would be, all of my fears, and all of my worry, and all of my concerns, were gone. I had nothing left to freak out about, except for the reason WHY I was having this scan in the first place.
The scan was so painless and so simple; I actually nodded off at one point. Bob had to wake me up because he needed to move my knee into a specific position to get the inside of my bone from another angle.
My teeth were chattering. “I’m freezing.”
“Oh we can’t have that!” Bob smiled, “I’ll be right back.”
And then he proceeded to swaddle me, like a newborn baby, with warm and toasty blankets that felt as though they just came out of the dryer.
After an hour or so, I’m not really sure, because I slept for most of it, the test was over. And I was free to go home.
On the way out of the hospital I felt incredibly grateful for the pleasant treatment I had received. And if I ever have to go through something like that again, I am requesting ‘The IV Dream Team’ and Bob!
I am also THRILLED to announce the results of my scan have come back.
[* insert drum roll *]
I do NOT have bone cancer.
BOOYAH
Thank you, Lord.
But I do have severe rheumatoid arthritis, which will be managed with the use of anti-inflammatory and pain medications.
Rheumatoid arthritis (RA) is a systemic autoimmune disease characterized by chronic synovitis that progresses to destruction of cartilage and bone. Bone marrow (BM) cells have been shown to contribute to this pathogenesis. Therefore, BM cells may be where the pathogenesis of RA originates, making the study of their abnormal regulatory networks very important. And that explains why my MRI results revealed abnormal bone marrow.
And that is something I can TOTALLY live with.
And now, I can return to my regularly scheduled life.
HUZZAH
Yesterday, I told you how my mother and I prepare for Family Functions. And I also explained that we have a lot of those around here because we celebrate both the Jewish and Catholic holidays.
And now I’m going to tell you why.
Anyone up for a quick family history?
Yes?
Good.
Let’s start with my grandmother, my mother’s mother, Manga. She was an Italian Catholic lady. And she was totes amazeballs. All of my uncles, my cousins, and relatives on her side of the family are also Italian Catholic. Some of you might be familiar with them from home movies like this one. And I think a lot of you are even friends with my Aunt Lynda, on Facebook. Which, by the way, is hilarious to me.
Next, we had my grandfather, my mother’s father, Poppa Sye. He was born and raised Jewish. And when the two of them got married, back in the day, their interfaith wedding was a huge taboo.
Therefore, my mother, Pam, was raised with both religions and ideals. She was allowed to choose which religion she wanted to be when she grew up. And somewhere along the way, my mother eventually decided to embrace Judaism.
My brother, Adam, also commonly referred to as Abercrombie, was raised Jewish. He attended Hebrew school complete with having a Bar Mitzvah. And he’s raising his son, Mason, also known as MDW, Jewish.
I did not attend Hebrew school, or anything of the like. Mostly because, I was too busy touring with the Grateful Dead and hitchhiking across the country.
And maybe that’s why my own son, JCH, decided to become an atheist.
Later on in life, my mother married her high school sweetheart (my now stepfather – herein referred to as My Daddy). He is what I like to call a ‘Pseudo-Jew’. And the best damn daddy that ever lived.
My dad, Ron, was born to our beloved, Gramma Ev and Poppa Ernie, and he was raised Italian Catholic. His whole side of family, including, Uncle Rick, whom y’all are familiar with, are all Italian Catholic.
However, my dad converted to Judaism in his previous marriage, and raised his son, my stepbrother, Lee, with the Jewish faith.
Confused yet?
Let me break it down a little more simply.
My mother, my father, both of my brothers, and both of their significant others, and all of their children, are Jewish, while the rest of my family is Catholic. And my son doesn’t believe in any religion whatsoever. And, well, neither do I, quite frankly. However, I do believe in G-d, or a higher power, or whatever you want to call it. But more on that, another time.
Got it now?
Yes?
Congratulations!
And that’s why we get to party together, all year round!
Back in September my mother and I were prepping for a Family Function. And we have a lot of those around here because we celebrate both the Jewish and Catholic holidays. But more on that another time.
Since we have so many Family Holidays I’ve really come to enjoy helping my mother. There’s so much work involved, no one should have to do it alone. And also, we make a great team. We’ve perfected the art of who’s in charge of what. Like, she does most of the cooking and I do most of the cleaning. She’s in charge of picking out what dishes to use, and where they should go, while I am in charge of setting them properly.
And we’ve also perfected the intricate dance also known as when to stay out of the other persons way. Which is totally-super-handy especially when you’re working inside of a small kitchen together.
The two of us were hard at work, like busy little bees, setting, cleaning, and cooking, when my mom suddenly called out for me from the other room. She was trying to decide on a particular table setting. Only I didn’t quite hear what she said.
And here’s how that conversation worked out.
Mom: “Hey, Meleah.”
Me: “Yeah?”
Mom: “I think we should use these plates for the Hors D’oeuvres. What do you think?”
Me: “Um… You want me to do WHAT? With WHORES OVARIES?”
Yeah.
Clearly, I need to have my ears checked.
Because it really might be time for a hearing aid.
And this isn’t the first time I’ve heard something wrong. And I’m sure it will not be the last.
*Thank you for this one, Cheryl!
Have a GREAT weekend everyone!
PS; If everyone could please take the time out of their busy weekends to offer up support and love to one of my dearest friends, Ron, it would be much appreciated. He’s mourning the loss of his mother. And my whole heart breaks for him. I wish there was more I could do. Will you please help me comfort him?
You know you should probably get out of the house more often when…
Your only Positive Daily Affirmation is hearing voice of the ‘Bejeweled Blitz’ guy when he yells,
“AWESOME!”
“SPECTACULAR!”
*sigh*
Clearly, I’m starting to lose it.
But at least I am making kick as progress on my novel.
And we’re HALF WAY through NaBloPoMo!
WOOOOT!
Apparently, I’ve changed my schedule.
And I wasn’t even trying.
I’ve magically gone from ‘Vampire Hours’ to ‘Actual Human’ Hours.
And here’s why…
It’s probably because October was such a crazy month for me. In addition to the 30 Day Photo Challenge, I was bombarded with doctor appointments, hospital visits, blood tests, and even more doctor appointments. And most of those doctor appointments, hospital visits, and blood tests were scheduled way before noon, forcing me to get up, and out of bed, and showered, and dressed, and out of the house.
Lately though, I’ve waking up between 6:00am – 7:00am.
Without the use of an alarm clock.
WHAT?
I know.
I can’t believe it either.
But this seems to be working out for me.
I always function much better when there is real structure and a concrete routine. Maybe it’s because I’m getting older, but I can’t seem to operate when flying by the seat of my pants anymore.
My new schedule goes a little something like this:
Morning ritual: drink coffee, smoke a cigarette, brush my teeth, wash my face, log into Facebook, update my status, and check my emails.
And the next thing I know its 9:00am.
[Does anyone know why the early morning hours go by so quickly? That’s a real question. And I’d like an answer. Please. ]
Anyway…
I like to spend the rest of my mornings writing a blog post for the next day in keeping with NaBloPoMo, before taking my lunch break.
Then, I spend my afternoons reading / commenting on other blogs, before taking my dinner break.
This way, I can still spend my evenings working on my novel, in silence, without any distractions, in keeping with NaNoWriMo.
And right before I go to bed, I try reading at least one chapter from whatever book is on my nightstand.
With all of this writing and blogging, I’ve spent countless hours at my desk, hovering over my computer, and now I think I’m developing a serious hunchback. And probably carpal tunnel syndrome. Oh well. Maybe my hunchback will go nicely with my facial hair.
I really haven’t been watching that much television. Which is super shocking, especially since I am usually glued to the TV. And I certainly haven’t been socializing in real life. It’s just that I really wanted to dedicate the whole month of November, to the written word, and as much as possible. And I am very happy about my decision to stick with all of my writing commitments. Even though I am deliriously exhausted.
However, I am finding it difficult to jump back and forth between my blogging voice and my novel voice, as they are completely different. My book is on the darker side and I think that’s why my blog posts have been falling flat, or even down right boring. It’s tough to come up with ideas for humorous posts when I’m so focused on the seriousness of the characters in my book.
Maybe when November is over, and I go back to posting once a week, as opposed to EVERY SINGLE DAY for the past TWO MONTHS – IN A ROW – it will become easier for me to transition?
In any case…
I would REALLY like to thank all of you for sticking by me and cheering me on through all of this. You have no idea how much it means to me. And you have no idea how much it gives me the strength I need to keep this up!
Y’all rock.
PS: I will be in the hospital today having a procedure and I probably won’t be able to read any of your blogs. But I will catch up with y’all tomorrow.
“The results of your MRI revealed an unspecified bone marrow abnormality in your right knee. Here’s a copy of the test results. Please contact either your rheumatologist or your family physician, as soon as possible, so they can determine whether or not to go ahead with a full body bone scan.”
It’s not every day you hear the words bone marrow abnormality. And I can tell you from personal experience the next words that will run through your mind will be things like oncology, cancer, chemotherapy, and an agonizing death. And then you might have to pull your car off the road just to catch your breath.
“Mom, I have the results. I am in the parking lot of Best Buy. I couldn’t drive home.”
“It’s okay. What do the results say?”
“Something about a bone marrow abnormality. But, the Orthopedic Specialist doesn’t really treat things like this. He mostly deals with sports injuries, and things like cartilage, and ligaments, and tendons. I am supposed to call either my Rheumatologist, or my Family Doctor.”
I couldn’t stop thinking about my grandfather, Poppa Ernie, who passed away from bone cancer. And neither could my mother. But no one said the C word.
“Call the Family Doctor. I’m sure he will be able to see you immediately.”
“Okay, mom. He told me if I ever get freaked out, or if I ever have questions, regarding my new health issues, or any of my other annoying medical conditions, to call him right away. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do, because I am a little freaked out. And I have a lot of questions.”
“Perfect. Let me know when the appointment is because I’m coming with you.”
“Okay. I’ll see you back at home in a few minutes.”
About a year ago, my right knee began feeling stiff. It was kind of annoying, yet manageable with OTC medications. However, over the past four months the pain has become unbearable. I cannot walk down the steps of my house without wincing. I cannot sit at my desk for longer than 30 minutes without having to stand up to stretch it out. Ice compresses only make it worse. And I can forget spending any length of time inside of a car. The OTC medications are no longer helpful. And the only time my knee doesn’t hurt, or throb with burning pain, is when I am unconscious.
My Rheumatologist decided my knee pain had nothing to do with my RA/Lupus/Sjogren’s diagnoses and suggested I schedule an appointment with an Orthopedic specialist.
And that’s exactly what I did.
After an X-Ray and an office visit with the Orthopedic Specialist, he thought I had either a bad case of patellar tendonitis, or patellar arthritis. Both would be treatable through physical therapy and medications. But he wanted to get an MRI anyway.
“Hi, Doctor G. Thank you for seeing me right away. I’m a little freaked out. I got the test results from my MRI and I’m not really sure what this means. And rather than imagining the worst case scenario, or channeling my inner Jerry Seinfeld, or going all Augusten Burroughs and getting all kinds of panic attack on everyone, I want to hear what you have to say first.”
He reviewed my tests and explained how bone marrow works so that my mom and I could understand. He took his time with us, calmed me down, and then he got on the phone with the radiologist who wrote the report to clarify exactly what unspecified abnormal bone marrow might mean.
As of right now, they don’t think it’s the Big C because none my blood work indicates any of that. But, there is definitely some kind of suspicious bone marrow lesion that needs to be looked at more closely.
I am scheduled for a Full Body Bone Scan, at the hospital, tomorrow at 8am.
It’s a four – five hour process.
And then I have to wait around for g-d knows how long to get those results.
In the meantime, can y’all say a little prayer for me?
Saying, “No!” seems like it should be easy enough.
It’s two little letters.
It’s one simple word.
And while I have no problem saying, “No!” when it comes to my son, I’ve had difficulty saying, “No!” when it comes to other family members and sometimes even my friends.
By a show of hands, who else suffers from People Pleasing Syndrome?
I have been a People Pleaser all my life. But, it’s not because I am trying to get others to like me, or love me, or accept me, or any of that jazz. It’s mostly because I don’t like to let people down. And I don’t want to be seen as lazy, or uncaring, or totally egocentric.
I take a great deal of pride in being a good mother, a good daughter, a good sister, and a good friend. I am loyal, honest, and trustworthy. I am more than willing to do for others, and I am always happy to lend a helping hand, especially to those in need.
However, for some strange reason, I have a hard time accepting help from others. And I definitely have a hard time accepting when people do nice things for me without falling into a vicious cycle that goes a little something like this:
But here’s the thing.
I don’t have the strength to please all the people, all the time, anymore.
And, quite frankly?
I don’t want to.
I’m exhausted.
After my 38th birthday, I decided enough was enough. And I believe I’ve had somewhat of an epiphany. I discovered the power of saying, “No!” And I had no idea just how liberating it would be.
Don’t get me wrong, people.
Apparently, old habits are tough to break.
The first few times I tried to say, “No!” I failed horribly, mostly because People Pleasers like myself do not like confrontation. Therefore, I have the tendency to give in just to avoid any type of argument or friction.
Luckily, after a few minor setbacks, I quickly came to the conclusion that I need to listen to my body rather than listening to thoughts inside my head, because I’ve been making myself sicker from doing too much. When I am over extended or over committed, I don’t get enough sleep. And then I become anxious and overwhelmed. Which inevitably depletes the last of my resources. And in light of my new health issues, along with my other annoying medical conditions, that is the last thing I need to do.
Between autoimmune problems such as Crohn’s Disease, Severe Food Allergies, Hashimoto Thyroiditis, and Sjögren’s [SL: systemic lupus erythematosus] Syndrome, I have some serious limitations.
And because of those limitations – I need to set boundaries.
But…
In order for me to change, I had to start asking myself, “Is this person, place, party, or event – really worth it? Is it worth risking my health? Is it worth my time? Or would I rather be doing something else? And is it worth the anxiety and pressure?”
[Kind of like Elaine, from Seinfeld, determining whether or not a man is Sponge Worthy.]
Then, I had to remind myself that I am entitled to ME time. And I had to remind myself how important it is for me to rest and rejuvenate so that I can be there when something really matters.
And that’s when I started looking at saying, “No!” as an opportunity to spend my time doing what I value in my life, rather than running myself ragged. Which has helped me to become assertive without being aggressive.
For instance…
When my girlfriend called asking me to come over and help organize the massive piles of summer clothes belonging to her four small children, but I already had three more doctors appointments that week, and my nephews’ 5th birthday party attend?
I said, “No.”
When another girlfriend called and asked me to help clean her bedroom, but I was way too tired and my knee was acting up?
I said, “No.”
When yet another girlfriend called and asked me to meet her out for some drinks, but I was already in my pajamas and waiting for my favorite television show to come on?
I said, “No.”
When a male friend invited me to see his band play in a bar, and on the very same night I was invited to a Disco dance at my favorite club, but I was still recovering from bronchitis and strep throat, and all I really wanted to do was watch funny movies with my brother?
I said, “No.”
When another friend of mine asked me to keep her company at work, but I didn’t want to spend my day that way, because I really wanted to write instead?
I said, “No.”
And when another blogger, whom I don’t know very well, specifically solicited me to promote a particular link, except that I don’t advertise links or other blogs when I am asked to, only when I want to, and I don’t comment on other people’s blogs to get comments on my own blog, and I don’t tweet just to get re-tweets.
I said, “No.”
And I’ve never felt better in my whole entire life.
Seriously.
And that’s why I am declaring this year, as my year, to be completely selfish, with no excuses, no explanations, and no apologies.
Period.
Because my health has to come first.
Otherwise I won’t have anything left to give anyone.
Are you a People Pleaser?
And if so, how does it affect your life?
What steps have you taken to correct the problem?
And do you ever still feel a little guilty when saying, “No?”
Um…
I’m not really sure what New Jersey did to piss of Mother Nature so badly, but right after Hurricane Sandy, we took another beating when we got slammed with a Nor’easter last Wednesday night.
And this is how we prepared:
[*My cousin Shelly & My Mommy]
And this is what I ate for dinner:
[*Is that a really big squash? Or are you just happy to see me?]
And this is how much snow we received.
[*There is something so absolutely beautiful about the very first snowfall.]
Luckily, we did not lose power again.
And luckily, the roads were completely cleared before 8:00am the next day.
And then, something wonderful happened.
I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since August.
Remember, when this happened?
No.
Okay, I’ll wait for you to refresh your memory.
*cue Jeopardy music*
Remember, now?
Good.
Because otherwise this photo wouldn’t make any sense.
[* I laugh uncontrollably every.single.time.]
Ah, yes.
Sometimes, it’s the little things in life, like watching my crazy No Garbage Neighbor, shovel out his car, with a freaking dustpan, and suddenly, everything seems perfectly normal again – in my corner of the world.
