Vagus

 This is long and full of TMI. Feel free to ignore it. But if you want to hear the story about how I became a miracle….

10 years ago I was in a horrible car wreck. Most of you know that. It was bad. I was in a coma for a week and amnesia for a month. It is a lot to tell so I will leave it at this. I am brain damaged. The official way to say it is I have a short-term memory retention deficit and a long-term memory recall delay. I come off as a ditz. I am not a ditz, but I AM tad slow. Just give me a minute and I will catch up, I swear! I am a miracle. To jump ahead a tad, my neurosurgeon made that very clear. The way he put it is this – “You are a conundrum. You SHOULD have been rolled into my office by an attendant who answers all your questions for you while wiping the drool off your face.” So, yea…miracle.

I didn’t have insurance at the time of the wreck. I was in between jobs (I was SUPPOSED to start the new job the Monday after the wreck). So, once I woke from my coma, I was booted out the hospital and put in my mom’s care. She is a saint and took care of me the best she could but truth is, I SHOULD have been at a facility being tended by professionals. But hey, we live in the good ol’ US of A so…I was at my mom’s house. We were all told this is forever. Watch 50 First Dates for a cute, romantized comedy of the basic gist of what I was like. Then one day, a month later, I started retaining memory and decided it was time to go back home. There was no convincing me otherwise. Again, if I was in a proper traumatic brain injury rehab facility this probably wouldn’t have occurred but there was no convincing me I wasn’t alright.

To keep this as short as I can manage, I will just say, the next couple years were tough. I didn’t know how damaged I was, and I had no help. I did get insurance but it was crap insurance and again, I was BRAIN DAMAGED so I just didn’t comprehend how much had changed but truth be told, I have a feeling that if I had proper medical after-care, I wouldn’t be have progressed as far as I had. I HAD to work. I was a single mom. I had bills and responsibilities and it just wasn’t an option so I did what I had to do as best as I could.

Time goes by. My brain injury is absolutely and always will be a BIG part of who I am now. But it is no longer a MEDICAL concern. I finally get a job with decent health care and start seeking care for a few things that have been off with me. They don’t seem connected but boy howdie (yup I said it) are they.

The first thing to take over my world, medically was these flares I stared having. Every joint in my body would hurt. Every injury I have ever had would inflame. I was exhausted and depressed. But now I have good insurance, so I seek help. SOMETHING is wrong. I have some sort of auto immune disorder of some kind. But doctor after doctor after doctor can’t figure it out and truth be told, didn’t try very hard do so. After the very basic labs and x-rays they would all come to the same BS conclusion. Fibromyalgia. Don’t get me wrong. I am not saying Fibro isn’t real. I am not even saying I don’t have it. Maybe I do. But this was NOT FIBRO. Every time a doctor would lazily decide that was the problem, I would find a new one. In total, I saw 7 different doctors (RA drs, a few ortho doctors and an internal medicine dr or 2) for the joint pain.

While I am going through these mystery flares, other things are happening. I start tracking it all and seeking answers and I was VERY depressed by the answers. Basically, there wasn't any beyond MAYBE I am just not aging well and I was starting to believe that.

I was peeing ALL the time. Especially at night. Waking 8-10 times a night to pee. But hey, I have 4 kids, of course I have to pee all the time. My Urologist diagnosed me with “Overactive Bladder” and put me on a pill. It SORTA helped. 8-10 times a night turned to 6-8 times. What a relief. Oy.

My kidneys begin acting up. BUT I have a history of kidney stones so they decide it is just par the course. I am doomed for kidney failure and apparently have some sort of salt wasting disease. Just facts. Say my Nephrologist.

My Nephrologist found the uncontrolled hypertension. It was so bad that I would be sitting in stroke levels of hypertension for weeks but then it would drop to hypotension. So I could only be on the lowest beta blocker to hopefully not stroke out but can’t be on higher dose because the occasional hypotension.

My stomach starts acting up. GERD, they say. That is what I get for all the 800mg ibuprofen the Army basically make part of the uniform.

I am getting migraines a lot. And now I have a Neurologist to boot. I should have always had one. I AM brain injured after all. Anyway…

Damn, I am aging badly. I am in my 40’s. If this is 40’s I don’t want to see 60/70/80. I am DEPRESSED. I am suicidal. Straight up fantasizing about being done with this shit FOREVER.

HERE is the kicker. Aside from ALL of those issues, I HAVE been having this occasional left shoulder pain. But only at night when I sleep on that side, and it isn’t all the time so I don’t even see a doctor about it. I DID mention it to the slew of drs I saw about the joint pain. My arms go numb if I sleep on my back too so I DID mention it, but it is the least of my concerns. It was actually the BIGGEST concern. And no, it was not a heart attack.

Last December, I woke up one morning and my arms didn’t work. I don’t mean they were asleep or numb I mean they DID NOT WORK. My brain says lift arm and my arm just lays there. This went on for about 10 minutes of straight terror. Then I get some feeling back. Slowly, I have full use of my arms again and I start calling doctors. Shoot, now that I think about it the fact, I got a same day appointment with her is also a miracle. Dr Mukai. She saved my life. I owe her everything.

Dr Mukai is an Orthopedic doctor. She comes in the room and goes over my patient history. FYI this is the SAME history I have given all the doctors I have seen. They see traumatic brain injury on my history. The don’t have the records to back it up though (another story for another day) so I guess they must assume it wasn’t that bad? I mean, I tell them car wreck, coma, amnesia but I guess they assume I am exaggerating? I don’t know. I just know they all just skim over this detail and never consider it as a cause. Dr Mukai didn’t though. She sees the accident and puts one finger on my neck and has all the answers. Didn’t know it was all the answer at the time, but guys DR MUKAI IS THE HERO.

Dr Mukai puts one finger on my neck and slides down. “Yup” she says “You DEFINITELY have whiplash. Let’s get you an x-ray.” So, I get a quick x-ray of my C-Spine and it is all there My neck is turned backward. You can see herniated discs and bone spurs to boot. Dr Mukai orders an MRI to see how bad everything is but in the meantime, hooks me up with a steroid epidural to ease the inflammation and keep the paralysis at bay until we see what my options were. THIS was a mistake by the way. One that almost killed me. I still think she is a fucking hero who saved my life though. Let me continue.

Waiting my MRI more stuff starts going wrong. I am suddenly EXTREMEMLY fatigued. I am falling asleep at my desk. I am falling asleep everywhere. I am in bed by 6. Every task is so very hard. Everything is getting worse and finally I am not the only one scared. Dr runs labs and apparently, I no longer have any pituitary hormones. NOW I have a Endocrinologist too! The running thought on this new development is Pituitary tumor. Brought on by my brain injury (it can happen). Funny, once Dr Mukai acknowledged my car accident, every doctor after starts to too. Mostly because SHE built my team from this point on. (Side note, my PCP is 100% referred to my by Dr Mukai and that is the only reason I trust her)

My MRI comes back. It is not good. It is VERY bad actually. There is the severe untreated whiplash (How the FUCK was this not seen when I was in the hospital? My theory is no insurance so why bother with  more than life saving care) Untreated for 9 years and the damage is extensive. 5 out of 7 of my C-Spine discs are herniated. The top few are not so urgent. Just need to keep an eye on them but C5-7? Fucked. Not only herniated but bone spurs. Not any ol bone spurs either. Nope. There are several but the big one is the one jabbing straight into my spinal cord. Hence the temporary paralysis. I say temporary but Dr Mukai gives me roughly 6 months before it is permanent. She is not longer the doctor for me. I need surgery.

So, I meet one of her team. An Ortho surgeon. I liked him. He was SO going to do my surgery. I felt confident in his ability because Dr Mukai sent me to him and she was the first doctor to actually DOCTOR me. So when I went for a 2^nd opinion it wasn’t really my choice. Ronnie fussed at me. This is not just your spine, he says, this is your brain stem, this is your if they screw up you are paralyzed from the neck down kind of serious. So, research a 2^nd opinion. Things are about to get crazy, y’all. Hang in there!

The other choice for surgery is a Neurosurgeon. Step 1, research Neurosurgeons in the area. Ok. I find one that looks interesting. He has 5 star reviews online across the board amazing work AND he is ALSO a Traumatic Brain Injury Specialist. Ok. This sounds like the right guy to see.

Dr Lauryssen. Guys. This is CRAZY.

I go see Dr Lauryssen. I am giving him my patient history. Car wreck, TBI, blah blah blah and he stops me…”Wait, this accident was what 8-9 year ago?” he asks. I answer yes. He stops me, turns around and gets on his computer. No explanation. Just a finger in the air (for me to hold on) and then he pulls up a Cat Scan of a brain. MY BRAIN. “This is you!” he says. Uhm, what? HOW do you have that? I don’t have that…I don’t have ANY records from my accident. (I have been trying to get my records this entire time to no avail. No body could agree what hospital I was at!) He says, “You were at Breckenridge. I consulted on your brain injury!” “What?” I reply “Wow. How do you REMEMBER that?” I mean, car accidents are a dime a dozen. He says “More importantly, HOW are you sitting here speaking to me like a full functioning human? I remember this because it was that bad. You are a conundrum. You should have been rolled in here with an attendant wiping drool off your face. YOU, my dear, are a miracle if I ever saw one.”

Then we go on to discuss my newfound insane fatigue and possibly pituitary tumor. (Another reason I chose him was the potential of needing brain surgery to boot). He laughed. “You don’t have a pituitary tumor! I PROMISE. I don’t even have to look at a scan! Someone with your level of TBI should NEVER EVER get steroid epidural. This is common knowledge.” What? Common knowledge? I beg to differ! He said, with a shrug “Well it is common knowledge in Neuro. Good way to shut off your hormones right there. Don’t ever let anyone do that again.” Give it a month and you will be fine…and I was. At least hormone/ narcolepsy wise.

Guys, this sound dramatic but I decided then and there that not only was this absolutely the surgeon for the job but also that if I die on the table, it is just meant to me. I was at peace. I 100% felt that regardless of the outcome, this is meant to be. I went into surgery without the slightest apprehension. Way too much connection for this to not just be my path.

I felt a little bothered that the surgery was taking precedence when I have all these other medical mysteries to deal with. I worried me putting them on the back burner might be a mistake but what choice do I have? I am on a time limit to paralysis. That at my hands were beginning to go numb and I was losing my ability to hold things. I get the surgery. He fused and caged C-5-7. My neck looks like it has bike chain on it. I AM METAL BITCHES! Lol

That was 7 months ago. During those 1^st few weeks when I was high on Oxi and muscle relaxers, I noticed I wasn’t peeing as much as I was before but credited it to all the Oxi. I also noticed my blood pressure seems to be stabilizing. Again, I assume it must be the Rx. I do bring it up at my f/u with Dr Lauryssen. He says, “Yea, that can happen”. But I didn’t ask why. I didn’t really think much of it. It would all come back, I am sure, once I am weaned off all the Rx. Next f/u and I mention how very much better I am feeling.  My GERD isn’t acting up, my kidneys aren’t hurting all the time, I am STILL not peeing all the time and every time I check my bp it is GOOD to hypo and nowhere near hyper. My migraines have stopped… Once again, Dr Lauryssen replies “Yea, that can happen”. This time I reply “But HOW?”. He replies with “Oh! I didn’t tell you? Your Vagus nerve was trapped in all that mess” (signaling to my neck).

WHAT!? My Vagus nerve? What is that? He says “Oh just the more important nerve in your body”. So I googled and find he is right. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF MY NEW (post car wreck)MEDICAL PROBLEMS ARE/CAN ALL BE AFFECTED BY VEGAN NERVE ENTRAPMENTS.

Why was this not figured out by any of the other doctors? I ask. He says there is no easy test for the Vagus nerve. He says he thought that was the answer when I told him the list of things going on with me but wouldn’t know until he cut me open. I asked him why nobody else put this together. I mean, if these things are all classic Vagus Nerve issues why did not one dr (I saw roughly 20 drs in the past 5 years) even consider this. I mean, an easy Google search shows the location of where the Vegas nerve exits your head and goes right down both sides of your neck and I was in a car wreck with a massive head trauma. Why did no dr. connect the dots? He said he was so sorry about how I got to him but so glad I found him. I agree.

He left me with this. “Make sure to tell EVERY doctor you see that your traumatic brain injury is in the SEVERE category. That your brain doesn’t play by the rules. You are a miracle and a conundrum. When someone walks in and says they have a history of TBI a doctor thinks concussion. They definitely don’t look at you (as he waves his hand up and down over my able body) and think severe tbi.”

If you take one thing from this long ass story take this advice. There ARE wonderful doctors out there, but they are few and hard to find. NEVER just trust your doctor. EVER. Research. Dr Google. NEVER accept a diagnosis that doesn’t feel right. If I had accepted the Fibro (over and over) diagnosis, I would be paralyzed  right now. You MUST be your loudest advocate. 

Too Soon

 

I was picking cucumbers out of the garden, this morning and was thinking about next years crop and recalled Ronnie talking about how us 3 (Ronnie, Tyler and me) would be super vigilant in finding the sneaky bastards (seriously, army camo should be in cucumber because those bitches can hide RIGHT in front of you!) And then I had the stark realization that there is ZERO reason to be sure all 3 of us will be here next year. NONE. Why? Am I being philosophical? One of us could be dead? No, no, no. Nothing like that. Pure mom moment here. I had the stark realization (like a fierce slap on the chest) that Tyler is graduating high school this year. Tyler is almost 18. Tyler, if he chooses it, could be long gone next year. And my heart is crushed. Holy cow that came out of nowhere. I mean, I have known it was coming but I didn’t FEEL it until just now. No, no, no, no. Please. It is too soon.

My New HOMETOWN

I am going to start by listing ALL the moves I have made. Mostly just because I want to put it somewhere, that and I think it says something about why this feeling matters so much to me...this feeling of having a home. So without further ado....*drum roll please

1. San Manuel, Arizona – 7 yrs

2. Memphis, Tennessee – 6 mo

3. San Manuel, Arizona – 6 mo

4. Lake Charles, Louisiana - Aunt Leisa's house – 1 yr

5. Lake Charles, Louisiana - Uncle Doug's house – 1 yr

6. Lake Charles, Louisiana – Apartment – 1 yr

7. Westlake, Louisiana – House 3.5 yrs

8. Shreveport, Louisiana – Apartment 1.5 yrs

9. Shreveport, Louisiana – Apartment 6 mo

joined the Army...

ARMY STATIONS

10. Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri - Basic Training – 2 mo

11. Fort Sam Houston, Texas – AIT – 1 yr

12. Fort Meade, Maryland – OJT – 9 mo

13. Fort Carson, Colorado - Security, CO – Apt –2 yr

14. Fort Carson, Colorado – Fountain, CO – House – 1 yr

15. Fort Carson, Colorado – Colorado Springs – Apt – 3 mo

16. Buedingen, Germany – On Post Housing – 2 yrs

17. Buedingen, Germany – On Post Housing – 1 yr

18. Midlothian, Texas – Mom’s – 6 mo

19. Fort Knox, Kentucky – On Post Housing – 1 yr

20. Fort Knox, Kentucky – Radcliff, KY – House - 2 yrs

DONE WITH ARMY

21. Midlothian, Texas – Mom’s – 9 months

22. Fort Bragg, North Carolina – On Post Housing – 2 yrs

23. Midlothian, Texas – Mom’s – 6 mo

24. Arlington, Texas – Motel 6 – 6 mo.

25. Midlothian, Texas – House – 3 yrs

26. Midlothian, Texas – House – 9 mo

27. Austin, Texas – Ronnie’s House 3 yrs

28 Austin, Texas – Apt- 1 yr

29. Buda, Texas – HOME

Total moves -29. 

States lived it – 9.

Cities lived in –19  Countries – 2

So, yea…I have moved a bunch. Which I don’t regret. I don’t wish I lived in San Manuel, Arizona my whole life or anything. I love that I have so lived in so many places but I yearn for a place I can rest. A place that FEELS like my home and I feel I have it now. I have been living in Buda for 3 years now. 3 years went by in a blink. My house looks like a story of my life, I know back ways to get places, I am a member of the local Y. I know several of my neighbors. It is just a wonderful experience. This hometown feeling of belonging to a community. What a new, delightful experience. Who woulda ever thunk it ...Texas is where my home is at...for now. 

14 years....Soundtracks

14 years in soundtrack.

In which we are passionately in love, young and on cloud 9.

In which we discover we will be apart for the first year of our relationship. 

(cheesy song but it WAS our song)

Happy, young, best friends in love with the world at our feet.

And baby makes 3, then 4, then 5.

Life has thrown us many a shitstorm and yet, we still survive. Us against the world. There is nothing we can't face. Together.

or is there? Something is wrong with Eddie.

But I can't let go

and I go slowly insane with emotional pain, almost kill myself twice and escape, just barely, with my life.

I get mad. And empowered.

and see the truth.

And can look back at the love we had as the EPIC love story it really was.

                                                                        And let go...

and learn to love him in a different way

This post is dedicated to the anniversary of my marriage. The last one I will have. Thank you Eddie, for 14 years. I will never regret them. You were my person, my favorite, my best friend and lover. Here is to the next phase of our life together. Partnership in parenthood...and hopefully friends for life. You will always get a piece of me that no one else can touch. You were the love of my life. I wish you well on your journey. 

Shattered

How do you heal a shattered heart. How do you stand in an empty room, begging to be seen? I am Angie's empty shell filled with nothing but pain. What is left of me if my other half has cut themselves from me? How do I breath? I can't fucking breath. When will this nightmare end? Why can't I wake up. Everytime I try, I find myself staring at an empty bed and that means I must still be dreaming, right?

Dirty Little Secret

Ok I am going to just say it. Spit it out.



I HAVE LICE.

Yes, I said it. I meant it too. Our house has been plagued by lice for several months now. It started with a visit from a friend. She found out while visiting that her daughter had it. And the fun began. Everytime we get rid of it someone else in the neighborhood passes the nasty visitors right back. And WHY do they pass it back? Because we are all to ashamed to admit that we even have it. Because lice is dirty, right? There is such a stigma attached that rather then admit to having lice we all just keep pretending as all the boys suddenly find being bald is totally in fashion and no one is letting anyone in there houses. "Lets hang outside!" Because we are dirty, dirty, dirty.

BUT the truth is this: Lice prefer clean heads. Did you know that? They can't breath in that oil, can't reach your life saving blood through the crap. So the truth is, if you have lice, it is probably because you are CLEAN people. Who the hell invented this shit anyway? What god decided LICE was a great idea? What purpose do they serve to the whole? Punishment? Have I been very, very bad?

So we have done everything, RID, SLATHERED OUR HEADS IN VASA-FUCKING-LINE, nit picked for hours, but those fuckers keep on coming back. Now we are trying the wash your hair with Denorex and coconut conditioner and blow dry for 10 days route. This time, we shaved the boys heads so they won't have this problem. This time somehow, Layla doesn't have any lice. This time I am the only one with BUGS IN HER HAIR. (I bet your head is itching RIGHT NOW). THIS time, I told my neighbors. Because I would rather be shunned by hypocrites then eaten by bugs.

There isn't much point in this blog. Just wanted to say it out loud. Besides, Nicki is the only one who ever reads this anyway. LOL.

Forget

Yesterday, I took the best nap. 2 hours of deep sleep late in the afternoon. Unfortunately, it was a mistake, as almost all late afternoon naps are. The inevitable happened when I went to bed for the night, as I tossed and turned with my mind going a mile a minute, it was clear, sleep wasn’t going to happen again soon. So I got up and went to watch TV. I had wanted to watch Private Practice anyway and my husband deplores the show so it seemed like a good time to watch it. 

Boy was I wrong. First off, let me breakdown Private Practice for you. Hot doctors run a private medical practice in which they almost always cause more harm than good. Such as voicing their opinions to patients, writing books about them, having sex with them, kidnapping them. Whatever, don’t judge me for my nighttime soap addiction. It is ENTERTAINMENT. Except with this series, it is ALWAYS tragic. Like, I cry every single episode; which is why Eddie has banned it in the house. He says it is pointless depression. He is probably right. Well, last night’s episode was expected to be a doozy. One of the doctors, a neurosurgeon, fell off the wagon and was going south fast. I should have known better. The show ended with her sticking a fucking needle in her arm. 

Why, why, why do I do this to myself? Jeremy was already on my mind. My cousin sent me some great pics of us as kids playing at Grandmother’s house and this one in particular has Jeremy with this wonderful giant cheese grin.  I forgot that Jeremy was a goofball, forgot that he could smile like that. Forgot, forgot, forgot. 

So I went to bed, and tried to forget, forget, forget the image of that woman shooting up, tried to not put Jeremy’s face in her place. I don’t know which hurts more - Jeremy as a dead junkie or knowing that he was once a silly, smart, goofy kid once. Forget, forget, forget…….

I watched a movie the other day called The Southbounders. It was about a women who takes 6 months off from college to hike down the Appalachian trail. It awakened something in me. The part of me long buried because I married a city boy who prefers AC. I watched this movie in complete and utter envy. Because there is no way I could do that. 6 months on a trail? I have kids and I am also immensely out of shape. I ONCE RAN, YES RAN UP THE GRAND CANYON!!! Just because I saw some guy doing it on our hike down. I RAN UP. I about died at the top and some lovely foreign girl threw a bottle of water on me ( I LOVE HER FOREVER). BUT I did it. I I I I I did THAT. NOW? Now I go to Walmart and come home exhausted. It was a more then subtle reminder of my lack of fitness.

So, want to hear the good news? The awesome reminder of how I didn't totally marry the wrong guy? I told my man about this movie and he got really excited. He wanted to do it just as much as me. He said it sounded like an adventure of a lifetime and wished we could do it! I was so shocked and pleased I no longer cared about the damned Appalachian Trail. I don't need to take a 6 month killer hike to find my inner hippy. The problem was I didn't think it was a part of me I was able to enjoy because it meant making my dear husband miserable. I WAS WRONG. I suppressed my inner outdoorsy girl for nothing. Once again proving that I am unnecessarily  self sacrificing. When will I learn that I have nothing to prove to anyone? When will I learn that I don't have to NOT do something because no one else around me enjoys it? When will I simply do my own thing, walk my own path, HIKE MY OWN HIKE? I think I am on my way to figuring that out. HIKE YOUR OWN HIKE. Think I need to make that my next tattoo. :)

If Your A Dreamer...

     How do  I begin to tell the story of my life? Should it be a classic tale of a girl who grows to be a woman? Should it be a modern tale? Start in the middle and work my way back and forward and everywhere between, leaving the audience confused and perplexed and wanting more? I could make a trilogy! Should there be vampires? Would anyone even want to hear the story?

    I sort of get the feeling that most people think I am either trying to steal there tragic thunder or I am a huge liar. The truth is simpler and worse. I share my experience with someone hurting in hopes that they won't feel alone and therefore, better about their current hellish situation. The truth is also that, unfortunately, I am not lying. Almost any crappy thing that has happened to the average American, has happened to me too.

    Part of me admits to feeling a bit of smug satisfaction with that knowledge. I mean, I have survived shit most people implode and die over. Yet here I am, wondering what the hell your problem is while also completely relating to it at the same time.

    Do you want to know my story? It is a indulgent story of tragedy and strength. Of overcoming the worst and celebrating the best in life. It is a story about knowing that no matter what the world throws at you, you CAN survive it. You can THRIVE. It is MY story. The story how I went bat shit insane and never even realized it. It is a love story. A journey about learning to love myself and love my life and to see the beauty in it all.

Ode to Ramen

Ode to Ramen

Oh ramen noodles

How do I love thee

Let me count the ways

I love your salty monosodium glutamate

And the way it swells my hands

The wonder of the ramen is infinite

The delicate refinement of cooking you EXACTLY

The right amount of time to avoid a soggy disgusting

Sticky mess of something that once resembled noodles

How I love you is beyond me

But I do love you ramen.

I really do.

Beauty is Everywhere

Maybe it is the drugs, but I am quite content at the moment. Times are tough, money is tight and I am sick as a dog but I look at my dog who is snoring and farting and I look at my baby love who is also snoring and farting and I can't help but think : LIFE IS GOOD. I love the way the sun feels on cold days. The contrast of cold and warm is so lovely. It makes me feel alive.

Only the Lonely.

Why is it all the people I love the most (family excluded) live in different states? None of them live near me or each other for that matter. If I could do it, I would move everyone of them to the same street. I have never lived anywhere long enough to really have a sense of community but how awesome would it be to have all your favorite people right here with you! I guess people who grow up in the same town and live there always have that, right? Would I trade all my worldly travels for the intimacy of true real life friends? Oh, I don't know. Why can't I have both. Right here with me. I used to think it was great having friends everywhere because I love to travel and it means I could use it as an excuse to visit. But when you have 3 kids, a dog, a cat, college fibromyalgia,one paycheck, and a mortgage, well lets face it, travel is a luxury. I miss my friends. I have friends I have never ever met in real life due to the wonders that are the internets (I luv internets). But I crave to sit on my back porch and gossip about whatever it is people gossip about and have BBQs and go to the grocery store and do all those things so many take for granted. It really is the little things. That is where memories are made.

Death of a Dreamer

I am the animated corpse of a dreamer

The inevitable unspeakable result

Of every dreamer woken

When truth rears in to be your bride

And shows you her worldly ways

And reveals that all dreams are

LIES

There is no happily ever after

There are moments of joy

Just enough to make the struggling dream

Feel like a possible conclusion

But dreams are lies

It all ends in mud.

Under my feet baby......

I have moved 23, no, 24 times in 29 years. TWENTY-FOUR times. I am a minority. I LIKE change. Or I did. Maybe its catching up to me. I never was concerned about living far away from my family. I mean I loved them but I was living in EUROPE or where ever it was at the moment. I would get a major hankering (yes HANKERING) to be with my family about twice a year I would make the trek to my mom's and by the end of my week long visit I was good. I had my fill for a bit. It wasn't that I didn't love my family. I did and do. I just didn't feel the need to be close to them. But something happened it the past year or two. I think I became an OFFICIAL grown up because I actually crave my mother. I miss her terribly. I want to live close enough to have a day out with her. I want my sisters to live there too. I crave FAMILY. I crave it SO much I am willing to move to TEXAS.*shudders* I am not a big fan of Texas. I don't have any GRUDGE against the state but I always pictured myself settling somewhere in New England or somewhere else really pretty. Some place with 4 seasons and a coast and mountains. Or my dream IRELAND!!! Texas is just not on the list. Yet, here I am. Itching to be back in Texas. I am looking at real estate and salary charts and dreaming......of TEXAS.