The challenge..

Today was difficult overall. It started like a crazy hectic day from the moment I walked into the office. I took it in stride and then it all went downhill from there. My father racked up a few thousand dollars in international charges. I have been paying it down slowly but its affecting my lines. Then, I received a notice that because I forgot to schedule a payment they were going to turn off our lights. That was hard. I made the payment but this all happened in a span of a few hours/minutes from each other. I wound up taking lunch not doing my homework for class and just walking out and sitting in the church next door for 20 minutes. I needed peace, I needed solace.

I’ve been on my medication for the SLE for about a week. Its hard, I sometimes forget, and I don’t feel all that well. I feel tired and most of all achy. It varies on the severity. I stomp around the office trying to work and focus, but some moments my focus isn’t there. My focus is on the pain in my fingers and ankles or wrists and not on what I’m working on.

I compare this revelation of the SLE diagnosis to driving your entire life at 100 mph and slamming the brakes at once and now driving 30 mph. I’ve been trying to figure out my life and figure out what to do with myself. I was and always have been driven but now in the face of my own mortality, I am questioning what I want. All the money I wanted won’t fix what I have. It will make me happier in a lot of regards but it won’t cure me. As I sit here typing, I am thinking about my school work. I have to do something today but the truth is that I just want to sleep and maybe try to sneak in a game or two..

Today was stressful but tomorrow is another day… live to fight another day..

Coping..

When I was younger in my late teens, my parents became friends with this lady who had a daughter that was wheelchair bound. Her daughter had lupus. She was the first person I ever knew had that. For a while I’ve felt like utter shit. I’ve woken up struggling to get to work to get dressed to function. Pain in my bones that felt like my bones were snapping. Last week I had a bad week. That’s the shit. I don’t feel bad all the time. Just sometimes. Last week was bad. Friday I was miserable. I hadn’t slept well because I had pain in my body to the point I couldn’t sleep. I went to work and it was just a shit day. 

The thing is that it’s hard to explain to others what you feel. Not because I can’t express myself but because they wouldn’t understand. I was enraged when I recently found out that I might have lupus or rheumatoid arthritis. I was enraged because this is exactly what I’ve been begging doctors to test me for. I don’t feel good. I feel tired. My joints hurt incredibly. No you’re okay. You’re a mom, a student, an employee. 

Well I’m not okay. I hate pity parties. At this moment I’m sort of basking in one as I process what this means for me. Law school? Legal pressures? Can I have a longstanding legal career with its stress since stress is something that I need to reduce? I feel like Dorothy’s house flying around the eye of the storm. I was angry for a moment. Angry that I have to go through another challenge after all of the challenges I have faced. I know I’ll get over my pity party. I know I’ll keep trucking. I just have to reach that point where I’m okay. 

My significant other is clueless. He seems to think people on the train are my biggest stressors. No he is, work is. I feel unsupported but the hardest part is that I feel misunderstood. That’s the killer. I feel like no one understands what I feel and it’s hard because it’s something your battling in silence. It makes you feel isolated. 

Legacy..

You’re legacy is whatever your decisions,choices and paths you decided to take. You can leave behind a great legacy or a disaster in your wake. The one thing I always wanted was to leave a trail of fire in my wake, not a blaze of destruction but a blaze of powerful influence. Like all things in life, you can use your gifts for good, or you can use your gifts for bad. Facing my own mortality and thinking about the future is both enlightening and frightening.

Right now, my fears in their own way have come out of their closet. I’m battling my own health issues and thing not to let them hold me down. I’ve decided to bask in my own sadness for a moment before I pick myself right back up. I never discourage people to not feel what they feel. Bask in your emotions good or bad because they are yours. There are no right feelings to feel when shit goes south, when you get bad news. The only bad reaction is to not bounce back. You have to. There’s no other choice but to stop crying eventually and keep fighting to see another day. 

Today I got news that made me realize that the fire that I storm everything in my life with is fully ablaze. It was the most powerful news for me that I could get. You see, somewhere that I thought I was never appreciated, it turns out that my hard work and due dilligence paid off. I was used as an example. The fact is that I work damned hard to make sure I’m the best at everything that I do. If I plow shit for a living I’m going to be the best damned shit plowed that ever was. 

The notification that I got today lifted my spirits from the depths of despair that I was living with fear and worry about my health. It made me once again remember that I’m going to law school. I’m going to ignite an even bigger blaze in my path before my candle blows out in the wind. 

Dr. Who?

With all the things that my dad is going through health wise, I decided to suck it up and go see a doctor. It turns out that my PCP who I love and reminds me of the little man from UP has retired. I’ve been mourning him for 2 weeks now. What really pushed me to seek medical help was I got food poisoning the week before last, then I wound up with some viral cold/flu that kicked my ass and had me towing crossing over.  I admit, after my time working for a personal injury firm and seeing hospitals in New York failing epicly, I’m sketched. The bulk of my treatment and my daughters is in Long Island with surgeries in Manhattan and Long Island. I’ve never been treated by doctors out on the other boroughs that are affiliated with any local hospitals. Its not to say that there aren’t amazing doctors, but the level of care is just vastly different. NYU compared to Woodhull before the purchase. If you don’t know, once upon a time, Woodhull was a nightmare. You might check in, crap shoot if you check out. You couldn’t pay me to check in there.

So the moral is that I know better. I don’t get injections from basement doctors or get medicines out of zip lock bags. Normally, I do my due diligence. When I was super sick last week I decided to call a doctor because I really felt like I was dying. I got ahold of an office that scheduled me for a week later. Mind you, I had searched for a PCP in my area. Time passed I showed up to my appointment yesterday. Of course, it wasn’t drama free. I looked like a crazy person exchanging words with the car service that picks up my dad from dialysis. My dad called and they were an hour late, telling him they’d be there in 15 minute increments. By the time I was done I had ripped them a new asshole and threatened them if something happens to my father in his condition.

I proceeded to go into the office. Hindsight is amazing. I filled out the paperwork which was unremarkable and waited patiently. When I was called in I gave the nurse my entire history. Food poisioning, etc.  when the doctor came in I gave him the same run down. He asked if I had anxiety, I told him that it’s possible at this time. Long story short he proceeded to tell me to strip down and put on the gown. They were going to run a panel for HIV, STD’s and thyroid. This should’ve been my first clue that something was off. In fact for a minute I paused and repeated his instructions. Yet, I still sat down waited for him and the nurse to return and had a vaginal exam.

I went to work and told my bestie about it. She was hilarious because her first question was if there was a nurse present. I responded yes, I don’t think I was molested. Long story short, I had not made an appointment with a PCP. It was an ob/gyn. No wonder he was like okay crazy person, when I proceeded to give him my entire medical life. Today, I was cleaning out my bag and found the business card. Sure enough further evidence that I had gone to an OB/GYN. What throws me off is that the person that scheduled me could hear that I couldn’t talk. I had a hell of a sore throat and told her I was coming in because I was so sick. Maybe she thought I was pregnant and dying of a cold but we were clearly both mistaken… and that’s the story of how I got my vajajay checked when I was really trying to treat a god damned cold…

Disney’s reoccurring theme..

I have a six year old. I’ve raised her thus far to think little girls are not grown women. As she gets older she will earn the right to do more things like paint her nails, go out etc. At 6, she’s not ready to hit the club like it’s her birthday as best sung by good ol 50 cent. One day though she will be, but hopefully by that time I have prepared her as well as I can for life. 

Shopping for girls these days is hard. The fashions are outrageous. I once saw a tube top that doubled as a mini skirt. I mean am I dressing a future baby prostitute or a child? It’s sick. I dress my daughter as age appropriate as I can, as fashion forward as I can without trying to turn her into a self obsessed monster. So imagine the difficulty in finding age appropriate shows.

She’s 6 but bores of cartoons. She’s an uber smart (to smart for her own good) kid. So although the screen shows tv shows with a G rating which are hypothetically for the general audience, I’ve found one massive reoccurring theme. Boy crazy girls that are just obsessed with boys. Okay, obviously kids grow up and start to eventually notice the opposite sex. But why are shows aimed at the general consensus of just showing boy thirsty girls? I take issues with that. Is that all we can teach girls? Granted, teaching starts at home but you can’t deny the outside influences are like subliminal Devils. Where else are girls younger and younger developing body image issues from? Instagram? Where everyone takes photos like their waiting to film their next debut with Brad Pitt. Social media. Magazines. Tv shows. This all plays a part. 

People like to argue that it’s a parents fault or problem to screen and monitor their children. I agree but to a degree. I can’t raise my daughter in a bubble. There has to be some sort of accountability about what we show kids, what we put forth. How about a show about a girl who’s an A student who invents the cure for some formerly incurable disease or a show about the first girl ground breaking scientist who’s also a teenager like Dougie Howser who was a doctor at like 13? We need more shows about women and girls shattering those glass ceilings than incorporating all the dumb shit that at the end matters so minutely. 

WWYD (What Would You Do)

Have you watched that show? What would you do? Some of the situations are mind blowing and enraging. Ironically, the other day they showed a situation involving babies. A couple brings a baby to a 10 star restaurant and the question was what would you do if the baby is crying through your dinner. Me personally I’m an asshole. I would side eye through my entire meal. Listen, I’m a mom, but I didn’t take my daughter out until I felt ready she was a silent presence out in public. I can honorably say my daughter never had a meltdown in public. Then again my silent motherly theme song was L.L. Cool J’s Mamma said knock you out. My daughter knew better. Even now, I take her to work no one even knows she’s there. Which brings me to today. 

Today, although I’m dying from a cold, I took my daughter to go see boss baby the movie. The thing is, it’s obviously a kids movie. But why did I hear actual screaming babies that were not cast on the movie? Listen, I sacrificed and didn’t expose the world to a constantly screaming child. Even before I had kids I hated the parents who just let their monster scream bloody murder. Kids are unpredictable, I know you can’t just put a cork in them, but you do have to teach them manners. I used to purposely take my daughter down the toy aisle to teach her that not always would she get a toy and we do not act up. She never had a meltdown for a toy. 

When I became a parent my mantra was I don’t want to hear this shit, so neither should you have to hear it. Some places are baby free zones. Would you take your newborn into a nightclub? Would you take your infant to the bar?  Maybe some body shots for the kid? The answer is no. So if you wouldn’t take your kid out to those places why is it so far fetched to not take your screaming child or infant to a 5 star restaurant where my chicken costs as much as a god damned farm of chickens. I just think it’s prudent. So yes, I’m an asshole but I also was prudent enough to put parenting first above my own need to go see the latest flick. By the way the movie was awesome. Some adult intended suggestive comments but overall hilarious, a tad sad but great. 

The Fountain of Youth…

If I had to write some wisdom to my younger self, I would remind myself to try to enjoy the journey. In a generation where information is at your disposal and beauty or its faux standard in your face, sometimes I feel sorry for the children of today. When I was 12 I was 12. I didn’t know entirely about sex, I wasn’t obsessed with my appearance. In fact, I played with dolls, watched 90210 without fully understanding the implications of the show. I was in essence a kid. I rollerbladed, rode my bike without worrying that a strand of hair would be out of place. I was a kid. 

When I hit high school, I was aware of my own beauty both internally and externally but once again it didn’t affect the things I did. Social media is a monster. Even back then and I’ll explain why. I enjoyed what I could of my years given my circumstances. My physical appearance wasn’t a hindrance in any way growing up because I didn’t care what people thought. In all honesty I never had body image issues. I never suffered self doubt or confidence. In fact, it was the opposite. 

When I grew up in my 20’s Myspace was the internet crack. When I started posting photos that’s when I became somewhat aware. People would leave comments about my luscious lips. To me before my MySpace page my lips were just lips. They would comment on my toned legs how amazing they were. To me, I had toned legs because I had no car and had to walk everywhere. The point is that social media began to make me notice things about myself that I hadn’t realized or taken notice to. In my mind, I was just beautiful because. 

I talk to my daughter all the time. I explain to her that as she grows up, I will let her do more things. Everything at its age. The most important thing I tell her is to enjoy her journey. She will only live it once. Don’t try to grow up too fast because before you know it you’re an adult with your own responsibilities and you can’t go back. Enjoy being care free and a child. The last most important thing I teach my daughter is yes she is beautiful. But don’t put your focus on vanity. An empty mind and an empty heart render you empty. You can be as pretty as you want but be grow up to be a woman of substance for beauty fades.

 The reason I brought this up is that my daughters half sister has been dying to turn 13. She lives a much faster life than I did. But her rush to grow up makes me sad. I told her as much the other day. I told her to enjoy her youth while she can. That I couldn’t understand her rush to grow up. When I was 16, 18 was my goal so I could go out. After 18, I hit 20 and then they flew away and I stare at my 30’s. I enjoyed my years despite my adversity. But I wish I had spent more time enjoying my youth. Because there is no fountain of youth… once you go forward you can’t go back.