Moms…stop the cat fights

Moms: We are all so different and we need to embrace each other. Some moms can give birth by themselves in a kiddie pool yanking over and pulling their little angel out themselves…. probably cutting the umbilical cord with their teeth and sticking that little baby who probably doesnt even cry right up to your naked breast while you entire family watches with joy as you stand up with the baby attached to your nipple and drag the pool in the yard to dump the water out naked….. “The miracle of life” You can survive on 2 hours of sleep a night and can still get in a good work out every day whilst strapping the baby on your back or front in one of those papoose slings like the Indians did and have your house clean and dinner on the table for your husband when he gets home….. For you moms I say: ” God Bless you” I wish I had your wear with all, positiveness, and clearly some alien DNA mixed in your body somewhere………. However, for the flip side of that coin… Mom’s who demanded to be in a hospital with the most pain medication they would allow you… or those (me) who demanded a C section for the 2nd after the first birthing of over 24 hours with out an epidural left my mind and body permanently altered…… ones who had to bottle feed as their nipples bled trying to breast feed the little miracles of life…. There is NOTHING wrong with you. For me the first couple- few years were a blur. Waking up even once a night ruined my next day let alone 4 or 9 times. I felt like a zombie feeding, changing, laudrying, cleaning, non showering for days monster…… I didn’t read a book for 4 years after each child. I CRIED….LOTS…. I was bored, yet there ways always something the little miracle needed. My house was never perfectly clean. Clothes were just thrown in drawers and the vacuum was my best friend…. The constant hum cleared my mind, drowned out the screaming, and also cleaned my floors…. It was a miracle…. I broke so many I cant even count. I LOVED to vacuum….. SOOOOO many of my friends are starting to or still popping out kids and I just want to say which ever kind of mom you are everything will be ok…. You will eventually get to do stuff again you like to do rather that watch Beauty and the Beast 100 times in a row. You will get to go out with your friends again (ones that arent electrical) and you will get to worry about much much more difficult things like allowing your child to cross the street by themselves or use scissors….. Im not even going to get to driving a car yet cause I still have .5 years for that disaster nervous break down to happen….. one day at a time ladies… all you can do….


Something else…..

I was thrown off a horse in 2011. If I wasn’t wearing a helmet they said I would have died.  However, I did die… for a couple minutes, and during that time I had my near death experience which was a life review.  I have written about it numerous times. When the rescue workers got to me on the mountain they were going to air lift me out my blood pressure was so low… what happened in that ten or twenty minutes it took them to get to me?  I have thousands of doubts as to what I should believe in as far as which political candidate to support and believe.  I constantly wonder if I have said the right things to people, made the right career choice, am installing the correct morales and values in my children, disciplining and encouraging them properly so I don’t screw them up.  However there is one thing I never doubt after my life review and that is that there IS something else after we take our last breath on this earth.  I have never believed in anything this absolute. Not God, or Jesus, or the Bible, or Koran, or my parents or my teachers.  However, with 100% certainly; There is something else after we leave this human body we are temporarily occupying.  I’ve read books on near death experiences, I’ve studied all the religions to a basic standard. With all that knowledge I came to the belief that we come to earth to learn lessons.  We have specific ones we are supposed to learn. If we don’t… back we come, but it is our choice to come back here.  I believe in reincarnation, and so did the church until they decided not to.  That is why I believe “some” of the Bible.  I was accused by a religious friend of mine that I was making up my own religion by picking and choosing things out of the Bible, but I do not agree.  ALL religions are based on Love and the Golden Rule…all of them…. Some people with agendas, including Constantine, decided what was going to make it into the final draft of the Bible, and terrorists do the same things today. Twist words and meanings to inspire hate and rage. Those things feel good.  If people are hurt and unhappy it makes people feel better to have people as hurt as they are.  Rage and fear are the most dangerous weapons and drugs, but they can and eventually are always destroyed by Love.

So, these are my beliefs…. now what? In my day to day life I get sad just like everyone else….I’m probably indifferent most of the time.  It is hard to let love lead my day. And when someone I love dies….. forget it….I’m done.  Good people shouldn’t die young.  Mother’s and fathers should never lose a child. Take the bad people. Kill all the murderers and child molesters. Expand the death penalty to people who abuse children and animals.  Make some kind of a test and if people are over 95% bad end their life.  Save the good people. Save the people that are trying to help others and make the world a better place. But when I know that none of this will ever happen, and good people are still going to die before their time, I want to say “Screw it…. it’s just not worth it… let’s just set the world on fire now and watch it burn”.  And because I know there is something else after this life….why not? This life is bullshit.

And then I see a baby…. or a toddler….and they are like an infection of life, love, cuteness… you can’t curse life and God while holding a happy baby….it’s impossible…. now when it’s 3am and you can’t get them to sleep maybe, just kidding….. Seeing new life, like the one growing inside my best friends belly really screws me up.  Because I want to be so angry at life for taking my cousin away from her parents from cancer, for taking baby Rowan before his second birthday, for all the victims of terrorists attacks, for letting my friend getting raped and molested…All of these people are scarred for life.  It will never be the same, darkness will always be looming, and happiness will forever make them feel wrong.  Then you see New life, a baby, children playing, their laughter filling the house, and you think maybe…just maybe it is worth it to go on……let’s not start the fire just yet.  Maybe things can turn around.

And if you look outside and see a butterfly fluttering above a giggling child playing with a puppy while a blue bird bathes in puddle of water near by, as a sunflower in the garden turns with the moving sun…… you realize there is beauty in this world…it’s just impossible to hold on to it forever.


Life is not how it is supposed to be.

I drank, I smoked, I got into cars with boys I didn’t know.  I shouldn’t be here.

She never smoked or dranked or went out past curfew.  She should be here.

I disobeyed my parents, thought my teachers were stupid, and only obeyed laws that suited me.  I shouldn’t be here.

She listened to her parents, saw the insight every teach gave her, and obeyed every law… she should be here.

I cursed life and all it entailed. I shouldn’t be here.

She loved life and all its challenges.  She should be here.

I hated the evil in people.

She loved the light in people.

I gave up.

She gave.

I cursed.

She cherished.

I saw dark.

She saw hope.

Maybe she just got it…. she learned the lesson of the universe and was called home.

She made her mark. She changed the world. ….. in just 21 years she accomplished more than millions before her in a lifetime could.

She was good. Where as others and I could only Dream to keep in our hearts a love for all this deep.

We will soldier on and go day to day in this world that is often grey, with rules unspoken and in stone that rule our lives even after worn. But long to wonder whether right or wrong.

“Life is not fair” we have been taught to embrace.

Then why follow the rules that have been put in place?

Oh sweet angel how so many love you will not be forgotten… are in our souls…IMAG3150.jpg



Replacing Sad Anniversary “Death Dates”

I have so many days of the year that I dread because people I loved died on them.  Today, May 2 is the 25th anniversary of my fathers suicide….Wow…. and it gets more painful every year.  I am afraid to go to sleep because I dream of talking to my dad, asking him for advice, childhood memories that are just too happy, and dreams of just loss and being alone.  I also do have flashbacks of our fighting and some memory dreams are just too painful that I get a panic attack and wake up crying.  The panic attacks last for hours.

My mother used to force me to go to the Marriott Linconshire Resort for the week end on the anniversary deaths for a few years.  I just didn’t want to go, but I know what she was trying to do.  Now that I am older and death anniversaries bother me more I have been starting to do things on those days to change my fixation that those days are always bad.

My birthday was never a good day.  My father refused to come in the kitchen and sing Happy Birthday to me for my 16th Birthday.  Every November 4th after that was never the same.  It was never a day of joy, just one I wished I would forget.  When I turned 38 I tried to change that and planned my own birthday party.  People actually showed up and I had too much of a good time, so I threw an even bigger one for my 40th and it was even better.  So while I will always remember that 16th birthday, the bad memory fades when I think about my 40th birthday.

I found out about a year and a half ago that my first husband threw himself in front of a train three years ago.  He left behind two young children.  I am still in shock and I am sure the guilt nightmares will start in a few years.  I can not believe after what he knew I went through with my fathers suicide he would do that to his children.  However, that might have been the point in my life that I really did not share with anyone that part of my life.  I was ashamed, embarrassed, guilty….. I have such sadness for his family.  They are good people.  Todd and I were married on April 15, 1995, Tax Day.  I always remember every detail from that day.  Now I needed something else on that day, so this year on April 16th I threw and after the Tax Day party.  I planned it for about 4 months.  Yes, I know, Crazy, but I needed it.  I needed something fun for my brain to fixate on, or it will fixate on bad shit.  The party was great, but sure enough, as soon as it is over and I don’t have anything to fixate on the nightmares start.

Which leads to this date, May 2, the day my father died.  I can’t have parties all the time, but as an actor in this modern age of technology I can keep myself busy writing and filming ridiculous sketches that really only a handful of my friends watch.  I launched my latest sketch today.  I promoted it for weeks that it was going to launch May 1st, but I thought May 1st was today….. so here I am on my fathers death anniversary launching a ridiculous sketch on Youtube.

My therapist would tell me: “Just try to make it through the day.”  Well this is how I do it;).  I hope this makes at least one sad person laugh, even if just for a minute.  Let’s make it through the day together.

The Legacy I am honored to have Fallen from

Its done!

Vanessa Bednar

Every holiday season a make my way back to Illinois, to where I grew up, to see what is left of my family and some childhood friends.  Since my children were born I would drag them along.  This year they had the choice to come with or not…. My son chose not to come, but my 14 year old daughter did.  She did not choose to come for the presents or for my gratitude dragging her to see all my friends, but she came to see one person in particular, my grandmothers cousin Ronald.  Grandma had always talked about cousin Ronald when I was growing up and I knew they were very close as children.  My grandmother rarely spoke about her brother, Edward. I knew that he had died when she was 7, and he about 14, but I knew that he meant a lot to her.  In this get…

View original post 2,106 more words

The Legacy I am honored to have Fallen from

Every holiday season a make my way back to Illinois, to where I grew up, to see what is left of my family and some childhood friends.  Since my children were born I would drag them along.  This year they had the choice to come with or not…. My son chose not to come, but my 14 year old daughter did.  She did not choose to come for the presents or for my gratitude dragging her to see all my friends, but she came to see one person in particular, my grandmothers cousin Ronald.  Grandma had always talked about cousin Ronald when I was growing up and I knew they were very close as children.  My grandmother rarely spoke about her brother, Edward. I knew that he had died when she was 7, and he about 14, but I knew that he meant a lot to her.  In this get together with Ronald I finally found out just how close they all were.

However, in this planned lunch that was not the information my daughter thought she would absorb, nor did I.  She came to meet him and hear stories of a fascinating man who had been writing down his memoirs and had been sharing them with his family and extended family.  A man who went to graduate school with Martin Luther King Jr. and marched in Selma. A man that was a minister and a very modern one through out his life.  A man who went to Africa and had his roots traced via his DNA.  A man that was not only a minister of the Methodist Church, but had studied all of the religions and respected and had friends in every faith.  I wanted my daughter to meet this enlightened man. The DNA tests reveled that his, my, ancestors originated in Africa, which initially I found was fascinating until he reminded me that we (all of us humans on earth) are all from the same place, Africa.  We are all human, we are all the same, yet why do we define ourselves so much by race when it was just evolution that changed our skin pigment depending on where our people migrated to; Darker skinned people live in areas where it is hotter and sun is abundant.  They get plenty of vitamin D from the son.  Cooler places like England – the lighter the skin to absorb more vitamin D from the sun.  So if we are all the same why any hate?  Why do we always want to know where we came from, even though it really is the same place?  Why do adopted children sometime find a yearning to discover who their parents were?  Well in this meeting with Cousin Ronald I found that is what I wanted to know most.  Who was my grandmother? Her mother? Our aunts and uncles?  Why did they make the choices they made in their lives?  Why did Edward die and Ronald live when they both had Rheumatic fever, which was considered then, a death sentence. Why did Ronald’s mother die and who was this remarkable woman to give life to such an amazing free thinking human.?  A man that could not even share his good work and daily stories with the family because they just would not understand.  They would have said things like:  ” Why would he get involved in the Civil Right movement?  Why would he poke his nose places where it didn’t belong?  Why cause trouble?”

I have always wondered who I have taken after… and I think it is Ronald.  It is not just by blood, but the fact that we lost a parent as a teenager. We just stepped out in the wind to discover, because why not?

When my grandmother, Ronald and Edward were children, the death rate of children seemed as if it was a a constant rate… It was “common” but the pain that came with it was just as painful as it is today if not worse.  There were no support groups, and no one wanted to end up or have to be put in an insane asylum… So pain was dealt with.. families helped out those who had lost and that pain was put into a box. Most everyone knew loss. Some just handled it better than others.  When my grandmas brother was diagnosed with rheumatic fever it was considered a death sentence. Period. He died at home.  When Ronald was diagnosed with it his mother demanded that the hospital treat her son even though the money wasn’t there. His mother was a great strong-willed woman.  That singular lesson could have made him into the man he is today, but there were so many more that she bestowed on him.

When Ronald’s mother, nick named Toots, was in school, It was common that after Elementary school (grade 8) many children did not go on to high-school. The state requirement was that children must attend until 8th grade. After that children were expected to go to work and bring the family the money.  High school was optional. Ronald’s mother wanted to go to high school, but lost that battle and the importance of education was ingrained deep into her son Ronald.  When Ronald not only went to high school, then college, then graduate school, the family was up in arms.  Why wasn’t he with a wife, children, and a job already?  It was status, and that is just what everyone did. His mother said the family would not understand choices he would make and she was right.  Ronald honored his mother with his legacy.

Sadly in the news today terrorism dominates the headlines.  Wars have been fought over who’s religion praises the right God or Gods since the beginning of times.  Currently the Muslim faith is a target of discrimination because terrorists have incorrectly used that religions name for the reason they spew their terror.  Jews were attacked in WWII by Hitler.  However, I don’t think people understand that even not being in the “correct” Christian domination could get you persecuted.  Wars in England happened over Catholic and Protestant.  Kings and Queens alternating reigns changed which side was persecuted.  That hatred was brought to America.  Protestant and Catholic … the lines were drawn back then and you married your own.  When my grandmother fell in love with my grandfather and he was Catholic she went to Ronald, the Protestant Minister to ask his advice.  Ronald told her to convert and take on her husbands religion and in doing so their grandparents did not speak to either of them for some time. They didn’t even go to my grandmothers wedding.  This was THE SAME religion.  I want to say that we, the human race, has gotten more tolerant as time passes, but I really don’t know.  Muslims believe Jesus existed.  They just believe that he was a prophet and not the son of God.  Both religions and the Jewish people have t same first testament.  Why so many wars over different points of view of the same point of view?  I feel I have gotten on my soap box here… so TBC

Ronald’s mothers free thinking and determined nature was enriched by a very important woman in history, Jane Addams. Toots and her family grew up in the tenements surrounding the Hull House which Jane Adams founded. It was a place that everyone could come to and learn and socialize and melt into the melting pot that America is with out hate or prejudice.  So many programs we have today are in place because of Jane Adams; She pioneered Social Work, the first public parks for all children, sanitation, mandatory schooling regulations, prenatal care.  Please read further on her:

Fear: we are bombarded by fear every day  as it is thrust into our faces by the various news outlets.  The past as in the present is full of tragedy, poverty and sadness.  However, we don’t spend as much effort acknowledging all the countless people that did good, that helped others.  In reading about Jane Addams I see how she was influenced by her father and her father by Lincoln. My mind is blown away by how many people Jane Addams effected such as my ancestors and myself today.  I have made a lot of errors in this life.  I have done wrong. However, at the core of my soul I know right from wrong and that there is a passion in me to make life better for others.  We are taught by many, even our family, to stay in “our lane”… “stay in our own business,”  But thankfully someone comes into our life from one time or another that tells us it is okay to “get involved”, to follow our hearts.  One of the things that keeps repeating in my mind is what Ronald told me his mother told him.  I am paraphrasing, but in regards to him continuing his education, ultimately getting his masters and becoming a minister (sadly she would not see this as she passed when he was 17), “The family is just not going to understand.”  They weren’t going to understand his path, his yearning for knowledge and helping people that weren’t just family, let alone a different religion or skin color. They weren’t going to understand the choices he made nor his view of the world, this boy that cheated death and survived the rheumatic fever that took the lives of so many loved ones they knew.  He would not be following in the footsteps of the family of leading a “proper life” with a steady job, wife and children as soon as he was able.  He would take his time.  He would break so far away from the duty his great grandfather was instilled with, which lead him to provide for the family by emptying out houses in the alleys behind their homes as daily work to provide for his family.  Ronald took a “leap of faith” that his mother instilled in him, and even though the family did not understand it, they supported him and housed him and was always “family” and treated as such.  Even as time has worn on and the older have passed on, all family alive are still true to him, this great man of character.  He was never able to share his stories of the civil rights movement and his part with the older generation, but he has with the younger and we eat it up and yearn for more knowledge.  We are the future, my children are the future, and hearing good and bad lessons from the past are so important because it fuels our desires to be better.  I want to do better than my grandmothers generation, but I want to honor how hard it was, and how much we owe our ancestors for making such strides in improving they ways of lives for so many.

My grandmothers grandmother was a baby when the Chicago fire erupted and her parents held her in the Chicago river as the blazed whirled around them.  Chicago was now able to be reborn like a Phoenix after this tragedy, and even though mistakes were made and there is still very much violence in Chicago, it is better than it used to be and continues to get better because of the people that try and do make a difference.  I encourage people to read about Hull House and Jane Addams.

I needed someone to tell me “They won’t understand”…. finally at age 41, I got that from my second cousins long deceased mother.  After my fathers suicide I definitely had a “screw it, I’m going to do what I want attitude” as life is short, but even before his death there was something in me.  I would want to do, and have done some things that was incomprehensible to others and I could tell that by the look in their eyes they gave me after I merely opened my mouth.  I think I inherited some of Toots spunk!  I have some great DNA.  Research your roots.  I guarantee you will be blown away by at least someone you came from…. Then make a difference so your great great grandchildren can be proud of you!  I regret that I did not ask my grandmother enough questions about her childhood and her family.  All I knew is her dad left, her brother died and she didn’t want to talk about it.  I knew that Ronald had lived with her and her family for a little while.  However, I didn’t know they were as thick as thieves and practically siblings.  I did not know their day to day lives or her thoughts and dreams.  Understanding when her father left and how close her and her brother were before he died would have helped me understand why she did certain things certain ways.  Why when we were sick it was such a big deal.  Why family was so important to her.  Why she was proud to be a stay at home mother and grandmother and how grateful she was to be able to do it, as when her father left her mother had to work, she was left home alone a lot.  When her brother died at 14 her mother used to take her and Ronald to the cemetery all the time or walk there and leave them alone at age 7.  Secrets… every family has them.  I understand why people keep them…. but the truth does set you free… and others.




The Broken People are my People

Around broken people I can breathe.

Around broken people I can be myself.

Around broken people I don’t feel a need to talk to break the silence.

Around broken people I never get anxiety.

Around broken people I never feel judged.

Around broken people I don’t feel alone.

Around broken people I feel allowed to cry but I never need to.

Around broken people my heart is open and giving.

Around broken people I am free.

If you are broken find me.

I am broken and allowing myself to be.







A tribute to Donnovan Castellanos by the Burbank Vikings… The “The All Heart, Never Quit” Award

I am very rarely caught off guard unless a tragedy happens.  I am a pretty normal mom.  I love my kids, but sometimes I just want to scream.  Yesterday in fact I told a friend about an incident with one of my children: “I really could have slapped them”… ( I didn’t of course, I’ve never hit my kids… but I could see how it could happen!)   Some days I get, well bored, with the same routine; up at 6:20 AM, breakfast, lunches, school, house work, my work, pick ups, activities, asking my son to take a shower 95 times until he finally does it… etc.  I often think, as I did today, ” I guess this is it.  This is the life I chose and it’s great. I have two great kids, a house I love, I am doing what I love, we have food…. but this is it.”  It can be a hamster wheel.

Then tonight happened.  Tonight was my sons end of the year football banquet for his team the Burbank Vikings.  I was to sit at a different table, but kids over ran it.  My son and I randomly sat with a few other players, a sister of one, and the parents of another.  People think I am very out going.  I’m not.  Unless I know someone, I want to start drinking or go home. I have been braver as the years have passed and I started talking to the dad, Sean Moreno’s father.  I think it started out with “I can’t believe this glass of wine was only $3″  He said: ” I know, this beer was only $3.50″…. The Elks Lodge man, they are AWESOME.  We spoke for quite a while.  I remember seeing him when football conditioning happened in August, but I never saw him at the games.  Turns out, he is a forest ranger and is gone 6 days a week.  He only sees his family one day a week…THINK ABOUT THAT…. He had accrued vacation days and is getting some time off until February 1, which is so wonderful.  I remember this man when football just started.  His son Sean had never played football, in fact his Sean is quite a baseball player. I believe some kind of an All Star.  Played all his life.  I remember his father being a bit nervous for his son at the beginning of the year. During the banquet his son was quiet, just sitting by his parents, very patient, never said a peep.  All the boys at our table were very quiet and well behaved, and this think was long….

The Burbank Vikings lost one if it’s players in March, a true angel on Earth, Donnovan Castellanos.  The “All Heart Never Quit Award”, in memory of Donnovan was awarded to Sean Moreno tonight.  I have posted the link to the video on this page and the tribute to Donnovan Castellanos as pictures on this post.  In the future I may rewrite it (with author credits) so it is clearer to read, but honestly I don’t think I could get through it with out breaking down.  To Donnovan and his best friend Sean.  Life can be horrific.  There is absolutely no benefit to Donnovan being taken so early.  There is NO beneficial explanation why his parents should have lost their son.  All I know is Donnovan is and had always been an angel here on earth, and his best friend Sean, who played for him this year will never let the world forget him.  My hope is that both the parents of Donnovan and Sean walk with their heads high and proud until the end of time as they raised AMAZING human beings.

I am grateful beyond words for my “hamster wheel” and I hope it never stops spinning.

IMAG0586IMAG0587 (1)



You know YOUR body… keeping looking for YOUR doctor

This was me two years ago. I was sick. I was sick for years. Not feeling well and exhausted 75% of the day was the normal. This started years ago and has progressively gotten worse as I have gotten older. EVERYONE I knew thought I was crazy…. This was all in my head. “Just get up” “work out” “eat better” “you’re just depressed”.. I would get EVERYONES sicknesses. I had zero immune system. My doctor made me feel like it was all in my head because of my family’s history with depression. The thousands I spent on blood tests were “at normal levels”. My thyroid was borderline and it was being watched for two years before he FINALLY put me on thyroid medication. It helped a little. I reached out to my wonderful neighbors about doctors they would recommended and I was lucky enough to find the woman doctor of my dreams. (note I had even went to a holistic doctor who diagnosed me with Hashimotos Disease a test my regular doctor never did- another story- tried stuff with him- didn’t work.) My new woman doctor did all her blood tests, acknowledged my Hashimotos Disease and explained how it is a “real thing” and how every thing in the body is connected and if one thing is off it affects other things. She loves to draw me diagrams:) She put my on vitamin D and Iron pills, changed my thyroid medication. Things take time and my energy was getting a little better…. but still requiring twelve hours of sleep a day was not normal. Then “IT” happened….January 17, 2015 I ate bad sushi and received the gift of tapeworms. I know this because my dogs had it. (TMI- you see what looks like rice in your poop) At first however, I thought it was the flu, plus I got sick constantly…. It was the normal. “Mom is in bed again… she’s sick AGAIN”. It really got to the point I thought it was all in my head and I was crazy….. THANK GOODNESS for the proof in the poop (even though however “the poop test” that the doctors did came back negative- happens A LOT and it is a ridiculous test.) For days I thought I was dying. It initially hit me like a brick wall two days after the sushi. I couldn’t think. I had a fever. My gut was killing me. I had runny poop. I went to bed for two days straight. I tried to fight it. I got an acting job and I did it. I don’t know how. I don’t know how I made it home and then again I slept for days continuously. We went to Disney on my daughters birthday 7 days later and I seriously thought of calling myself an ambulance. I spent two days laying on benches around Disney all day. Again I thought,”mom, ME, gets sick ALL the time… it is what it is”. Then though I was seeing the shit in my shit and the light bulb went off. My WONDERFUL new woman doctor saw me the next day. I DO NOT KNOW HOW I DROVE THERE. I wanted to die. I cried in her office. She had another patient that about six months earlier had parasites with the same symptoms. The woman ended up passing out and going to the hospital when she was out of town in New York. My wonderful doctor gave me a prescription and AGAIN, I dont know how, but I drove back to the pharmacy by my house to fill it. They did NOT have it and would have to order it for the next day. I lost it. I started sobbing. They called around and said another pharmacy had it which was about 30 minutes away. I just could not do it. I just couldn’t make it that far. I went to the hospital hoping their pharmacy could fill it. I waited 4 hours in the emergency room crying the entire time… by myself…. I was only seen by the initial triage nurse that put me as the lowest priority. They drew blood. I was never seen by a doctor. I was still billed! I left. A friend drove to Tarzana for me to fill the prescription. Two $14 pills… take one immediately and another in two weeks. After a week I still could barely get out of bed even though I did feel better and the constant diarrhea had stopped. The pill was working… however… I was still concerned. My WONDERFUL woman doctor refereed me to a gastro dude who gave me a little different pill… again like $14… take one now and another in 2 weeks. He said I wasn’t crazy and that really is aALL I wanted to hear from him. I couldn’t think. My brain was in a fog for weeks. I could have had parasites in my brain as well. He scheduled a colonoscopy, but my out of pocket would have been over $2,000 with this doctor and it was recommended that I find a doctor in my insurance network. THIRTY days later when I finally saw the new guy I told him I was feeling better and he snottily asked why I was there then….. I was speechless. It took a month for me to “not worry I was going to die and really getting better”…. another month until I could have a normal routine. Now after 11 months I feel better than I have in years and I am still seeing improvements. My WONDERFUL woman doctor I see regularly and has put me on new vitamins and recently “the pill” to regulate my period and my estrogen because I am peri-menopause and before my period I was CRAZY. Crying, emotional nightmare and it was getting worse each month. I knew she would not think I was crazy. I knew she would LISTEN. She applauded my for coming to see her. AGAIN I cried in her office. I’m on 9 different vitamins and pills, but again I feel better then I have in years. My Vitamin D and Iron is on Point, my thyroid numbers are better, even my Hashimoto numbers have improved. I could tell you all that even with out the blood work. I feel like a human again. I feel better. I have been needing less and less sleep in order to function. Now, I have traveled all over the globe. I ALWAYS try new foods… mistake apparently. I really think I have had parasites for years. I think I got them in Mexico on my first honey moon 20 years ago. I did A LOT of research and parasites are so overlooked in this country its incredible. A $14 pill….. could have given me such a better life and saved me thousands of dollars. My really crashing sicknesses would kind of come in cycles. The other patient of my doctor who had a parasite that particular parasite would come out every 7 years. I don’t know what parasites I had, but I know I had some… a lot… because now I can say I AM BETTER. My kids get sick and now I actually don’t get it a hundred times worse.. I dont even get it at all. I know SEVERAL friends who are not well and do not know what is going on. They are made to feel like it is all in their head and that they are crazy. WE KNOW OUR BODIES. I implore people to keep looking for that doctor that will listen. I might have had 20 years with parasites but at least I know I’ll have another 20 with out them. (Note: every 6 months I do the two pills just to make sure I wiped them out.) – *there can be side effects. This is not everyone’s cure. It helped me. It might not help you…. but keep looking… reading.. researching. xo


The Universe tested me and I failed: Game Show Greed

I consider myself a generous person… or I did.  I enjoy helping friends, giving gifts, bringing food and blankets to the homeless.  I used to donate money to various organizations and random homeless people on the street when I had a real job..etc.  A lot of people I know see my posts of me bringing candy to the homeless and congratulate me on caring. I “liked to think” that if I was down to my last dollar I would give it away.  Well it turns out that when I’m caught off guard, am borrowing my daughters babysitting money because I haven’t worked in a while, and a car is on the line I’m only willing to give away half of it.

It was a perfect week, a perfect day, and I had a perfect plan.  My best friend was getting married.  She came into town a few days before her wedding and we were going to “DO LA” until we flew back up to Montana for “The Wedding”.  I was the Maid of Honor.  I had never been the Maid of Honor in a wedding before and I wanted to do a great job.  I wanted everything to be perfect.  As this was her second marriage and she didn’t want a shower or a Bachelorette party, I had to be creative.  I said I would do the flowers, I took her out to lunch, but there had to be more.  The pressure was on.  A couple weeks before I had taken my mom on the show Let’s Make a Deal.  Now the background in me and game shows: I am a NUT… I have tried to get on the Price is Right and Let’s Make a Deal probably a combined total of at least 15 times since I was 20 years old.  The first time was The Price is Right with my best Childhood friend Genana.  We were sooooo excited we got there the night before at 11 pm and stayed up all night.  We blew the interview because we were so tired and another person in line gave us bad sabotage advice by telling us that they picked a quiet person the last time he was there… we didn’t get picked.  This was a MAJOR blow as I have been watching game shows DAILY since I was born with my grandma.  Because of not getting picked I boycotted the show for several years.  There is nothing more torturous then waiting for your name to be called, on the edge of your seat SIX times and being deflated each time.  However, I did get over it and when I moved back to LA and friends would come visit me I would take them to The Price is Right or Let’s Make a Deal.  I just could not let it go.  Every time I amped up the energy.  I tried to be happy and spunky and loud.  It was never enough.  I had even brought Amy a few years ago and when we were interviewed I said I enjoyed singing karaoke while horse back-riding and I sang to the beat of the horses hooves (I was taking improv classes at the time.  I thought I was hilarious…. They did not)  Sooooo….. A couple weeks before the wedding I take my mom to Lets Make a Deal (I’ve taken her about 3 times).  We are fun.  We are smiling, laughing, having fun…. MY MOTHER GETS PICKED…. WHAT???? AFTER ALL THESE YEARS.  She ends up getting Zonked.  Shes still not over it… that’s another story.

Cut two two weeks later… wedding week.  I am CONVINCED that if Amy and I go she will get picked.  Its her wedding that Saturday.  We dressed up as Bride and Maid of Honor.  I decorated the car and had my mom drop us off in front honking.  I coached Amy.  Kept poking her to smile and jump up and down…. for hours.  I was on it.  My best friend was going to get picked.  This was my gift to her because I was poor and hadn’t booked a job in a while.  I had even been trying to get a part time job in a bar… NO ONE would hire me.  Apparently I’m too old for bar work….. She was going to get picked and she was going to play for a car.  I knew she would win it and I wanted her to have that car.  There was no discussion prior about us splitting anything either of us won because, she was the bride and she was going to be picked NOT ME.  I didn’t want her to split anything with me.  NEVER IN MY WILDEST DREAMS DID I THINK I WOULD GET PICKED.  I had tried like 15 … or more times plus… I’M NOT the BRIDE.  After a couple games and a couple breaks of us dancing and smiling to the cameras (and me poking Amy to keep the perma smile on because they are watching… they are always watching) I see one of the cameras pointed our way.  “This is it I thought!  Amy is getting picked now”….. And they are back… and Wayne calls my name…. and I run down… and he announces I am playing for a car……. It is really all a blur.  he asks me like “what am I dressed as”…. I respond with; its Amys wedding in Montana on Saturday… I give her a shout out.  The camera goes to her…… she smiles… people clap.  WHAT I SHOULD HAVE SAID  (AND I HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT EVERY DAY SINCE) ” Anything I win I will give to Amy for her wedding”.  And I SWEAR if I would have thought it out ahead of time I would have.  I would have even just reached in to pick out a tire instead of messing them up because all the good tires are probably on top.  They want you to win…. but again… NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD GET PICKED.  AMY WAS THE BRIDE.

I did not win the car.  I even failed further after by telling Amy: “You know I would have split the car with you”.  Split the car?  She was the bride.  It was HER car.  I don’t care how poor I was or how EVERYONE in my life continued to tell me how poor I was and to get a part time job, I am a giving person damn it.  I’m mother f’in Mother Teresa….. Well… turns out… I’m not, and I have thought a lot about this.  I have a long way to go in the giving department.  I will only give when I have enough.  I have never donated my “really good” clothes or shoes.  I am not volunteering at the soup kitchen every night or taking in homeless people.  I am very pro refugee, but have I ever welcomed one into my home?… no…..   The point is?  I have a long long way to go.  The Universe did test me… and I failed.  I got greedy.  I let all the doubters who refuse to loan me money when I’m poor, who whisper in my ear to get a job get to me. (they do have a valid point; I am irresponsible and currently want 50 pink yard flamingos… however)  I was not my noble self that day.  I can be better.  Now I owe Amy a damn car…. I need a job. xo