Putting My Worst Face Foward...

I didn't always see myself as "pretty". In honestly any sense of the word.

I was your average American tomboy girl. I loved being barefoot, in jeans or shorts and a comfy shirt. I hated dresses and makeup. In fact, I rarely, if ever wear either of the latter to this day. And I'm about to turn thirty-five.

As a teen, I had your basic teen acne. Or so I'd thought. I had some pretty icky breakouts. Especially around the time of a hormonal flux at the nearing of my menstrual cycle.

After years of trying everything, by my 19th birthday, it all just went away. I went on with my life. Had gotten married, had a child, divorced. Remarried, had two more children. Also I'd lost a child in between the middle and youngest.

That's also when my breakouts came back. Right near the loss of that baby in 2003. And they came back with a vengeance.

After having my youngest child, who is now seven years old, and in the First Grade, things only had become worse. But I figured that over time, with my hormones getting back to a normal level, everything would just clear up again.

Oh how WRONG was I with that assumption. If anything, they had become worse.

By the time she was a year old, my face went to looking like this with Rosacea...

And yes, it steadily got worse than this. To the point that it hurt me emotionally, psychologically and even socially.

I hated leaving my home. I didn't like to be out in public. Not looking like that! People would stare. Little children would ask what happened to my face, as they pointed and had that look of disgust upon their faces.

There were times that I was even embarrassed to be around my family, wondering what they thought of how I looked. On occasion certain members of the family would "grill" me on what I ate, what I used to clean my face and whatnot.

I did NOTHING wrong. I ate NOTHING wrong. It was NOT my fault. But it certainly felt like I did SOMETHING wrong.

Eventually the Rosacea went in to an area of the body I had NEVER heard of it even being possible.

My eyes. But it primarily attacked my left eyeball. And I went to a Ophthalmologist who sadly MISTREATED me for the wrong infection. In the end, the Ocular Rosacea (Subtype 4) ate away most of the cornea (outer window of the pupil that is your eye's lens) in the left eye.

At times, my face looked like this man's...

And yes, my eye would like like the one in this picture...

In the end, after my cornea had perforated (had a hole in it), I looked like this..

Not even two weeks later, thanks to Ocular Rosacea eating away my cornea, I had no choice but to have an emergency-based Corneal Transplant (Keratoplasty) and required a full graft of another person's cornea after they had died and were an organ/tissue donor.

Here I am 2-weeks post-op...

And here I am 2 YEARS later...

As for the Rosacea, it is now under control!! I am on Doxycycline pills. And will most likely be on and off of them for the rest of my life.

Plus, soon, seeing as I can no longer have children, we are going to try a cream medication after removing me from the Doxycycline pills in a few months. And if need be, I may even end up being on both to ensure that when I have an "attack of the pimple kind", it will not be that bad, and will be staved off from being inside my eye.

Here I am today, pimple/Rosacea free (for the most part)...

I still have breakouts. Mainly around my cycle. But it's now just a bump here and a bump there. Yes, they CAN be painful, swelled and very red. But at least I'm NOWHERE near as horrible looking as back in the time of my youngest being a baby.

I'm more confident, knowledgeable about my conditions and am no longer afraid to walk out of my home, only to face ridicule from strangers young and old.

It's That Time Again...

Leaves are turning to vibrant and almost magical-like colors. Hues of orange, yellow and red are all popping up around on the hill and mountainsides of the Appalachians. I love Autumn here in Virginia.

It's also time to break out hand-me-down costumes, or purchase new ones for the kids that have outgrown them all. And not to mention, buying the goodies that you will be passing out to the little fairies, ghosts, superheros and goblins.

And for me personally, it will be my 2-year-anniversary post-transplant for my eye. It's strange to know that already two years has just flown right past me. I still wonder about my donor and their life. And I often think about the donor's family, that I will seemingly never have the pleasure of meeting. I even throw around the idea of maybe even writing them an update letter.

Also, it will mark 22 years since my mother passed away, on the same day that I celebrate my anniversary date. Wow!! 22 years. How is even possible? It certainly to me, does NOT feel like that much time has gone by. But it has.

As you can see, I haven't even posted on to ANY of my three blogs in well over a month. I pretty much have given up writing on them. For various reasons. And honestly, for the most part, I do NOT miss this. I felt freed up, truthfully. I don't feel mentally pressured to crank out posts. I have never been in to blogging as to be popular or get mega numbers in followers/readers. I did it/do it as a release for my mind and to just talk about things that interest me, and maybe bring awareness to topics (like Pregnancy & Infant Loss month, which coincides with Breast Cancer Awareness month...but is overshadowed by BCA).

So, consider this my update, but don't be too surprised if I don't jot in this area again for another good while. I really don't feel the "love" for blogging like I had once had. And I'm okay with that. If I lose followers/readers, I'm not going to cry over it, or lose any sleep. But it's nice to know that there are a FEW people that follow/read me that genuinely care about what I have to say on here. To them, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And I thank you for still sticking with me, though you know it may be like forever before I write again.

Later taters!!

The "Pregnancy Game" Statuses On FaceBook

I'm pretty certain that those of you reading this, have a FaceBook page. And I'll bet you two to one, that at least once, within your News Feed, you have seen the now infamous "cravings game". The status goes like this...

""I'm _weeks and craving _"

It is inboxed to LADIES ONLY on FaceBook, and specifically in the email, like the bra and purse games, you are not to NOT tell the men about it, and to keep them guessing what it's all about. All the while, it is SUPPOSED TO be promoting Breast Cancer Awareness.

Here's one little flaw. BC Awareness is NEXT month, people! In October. Not in September. And it sure as hell is not in August (when it started to circulate)!

And here is flaw number two. Do you all know what other Awareness time it is, in OCTOBER, that coincides with Breast Cancer Awareness Month? Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.

Personally, I see it as being insensitive to Breast Cancer survivors and those that sadly lost the battle, to use pregnancy "jokes" as a means to raise awareness. Being that it, as well as the bra thing is NOTHING in relation to the subject of Breast Cancer. And yes, to me, it is also in a way, distasteful to make it a "game" when there are many women (and men) that have lost a baby during pregnancy.

If you (general use, not to any specific person) are going to try and raise awareness for something or a cause you believe in, then it's best to "shoot from the hip" and state specifically what the nature of the subject is. Not to make others wonder (especially saying WOMEN ONLY CAN KNOW WHAT IT REALLY MEANS). That does not a thing to raise awareness for the ACTUAL cause/subject.

Plus think about this...men are MEN. They aren't going to sit and think "oh look, I think that these ladies are trying to make us aware of a deadly disease that can even strike men". They are just sitting there, wondering "WTH is this crap with weeks and cravings for all these candies?". Sad, but true. Even my husband has said it's not doing a single thing to "raise awareness".

As a mom that has lost 2 angel babies, and as a daughter-in-law that has a MIL who has survived BC twice and other cancers as well, I'm sorry, but yes I am a bit offended, and I have strong oppositions to "games" like this that don't do a thing for the "root point" of awareness.

*Wander with me over at FOR THE LOVE OF BLOGS and join in the fun!*

Parents...Learn From This Show!

No, I'm not joking. And the subject of bullying isn't a joke, either. It's real. It's raw. And today's form of bullying has taken on new ways of cause and effect.

When I was a small child, I was heckled, ridiculed, made the butt of jokes, and even "imitated" because of my trache. Don't forget the name calling and pushing.

But today, with technology advances such as the internet and YouTube, bullying has taken new and (literally) far-reaching forms.

Now kids attack one another on sites such as FaceBook and MySpace, or even Twitter.

Not just in the form of words. But via groups, "like pages", Tweets, videos and other internet means, including in the Blogging world. This is called Cyberbullying.

I am a longtime 'One Life To Live' (ABC) fan. One of the current storylines is centering around a Freshman boy in High School who has life-threatening Asthma. Shane Morasco is at the end of his rope with the bullying and the video of him naked in the school's gym being posted to the internet and "MyFace" (OLTL's version of FaceBook) and ready to end his life just to "make it all stop".

Sadly this is something in regards to bullying that we hear about almost daily in the news media outlet. Be it face-to-face bullying or being bullied on the internet.

Here is the preview of the storyline for this week (April 4th)...



Please, I beg EACH AND EVERY SINGLE PARENT that reads this, TEACH your children about bullying and it's many forms. Teach them what the (possible) repercussions are as the bully and what CAN (and often does) happen to bullying victims.

Both sides lose when it comes to bullying. Some lose their lives. Some have to live with lifelong guilt due to their actions. And families are torn because of the actions of the bully and their target.

No child should suffer abuse from a bully.

And bullies have it within them to change and become better people. But sometimes for that to happen, it comes at a hefty price.

It should NEVER have to be that way.

Distorting the FACTS from the MYTHS About Organ/Tissue/Eye Donation

The following are the Myths and the Facts about being or becoming an Organ/Tissue/Eye Donor.

Information (copy/pasted) is provided by the Mayo Clinic.

Myth: If I agree to donate my organs, the hospital staff won't work as hard to save my life.

Fact: When you go to the hospital for treatment, doctors focus on saving your life — not somebody else's. You'll be seen by a doctor whose specialty most closely matches your particular emergency. The doctor in charge of your care has nothing to do with transplantation.
..............................

Myth: Maybe I won't really be dead when they sign my death certificate.

Fact: Although it's a popular topic in the tabloids, in reality, people don't start to wiggle their toes after they're declared dead. In fact, people who have agreed to organ donation are given more tests (at no charge to their families) to determine that they're truly dead than are those who haven't agreed to organ donation.
..............................

Myth: Organ donation is against my religion.

Fact: Organ donation is consistent with the beliefs of most religions. This includes Catholicism, Protestantism, Islam and most branches of Judaism. If you're unsure of or uncomfortable with your faith's position on donation, ask a member of your clergy. Another option is to check the federal Web site OrganDonor.gov, which provides religious views on organ donation and transplantation by denomination.
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Myth: I'm under age 18. I'm too young to make this decision.

Fact: That's true, in a legal sense. But your parents can authorize this decision. You can express to your parents your wish to donate, and your parents can give their consent knowing that it's what you wanted. Children, too, are in need of organ transplants, and they usually need organs smaller than those an adult can provide.
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Myth: An open-casket funeral isn't an option for people who have donated organs or tissues.

Fact: Organ and tissue donation doesn't interfere with having an open-casket funeral. The donor's body is clothed for burial, so there are no visible signs of organ or tissue donation. For bone donation, a rod is inserted where bone is removed. With skin donation, a very thin layer of skin similar to a sunburn peel is taken from the donor's back. Because the donor is clothed and lying on his or her back in the casket, no one can see any difference.
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Myth: I'm too old to donate. Nobody would want my organs.

Fact: There's no defined cutoff age for donating organs. Organs have been successfully transplanted from donors in their 70s and 80s. The decision to use your organs is based on strict medical criteria, not age. Don't disqualify yourself prematurely. Let the doctors decide at your time of death whether your organs and tissues are suitable for transplantation.
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Myth: I'm not in the best of health. Nobody would want my organs or tissues.

Fact: Very few medical conditions automatically disqualify you from donating organs. The decision to use an organ is based on strict medical criteria. It may turn out that certain organs are not suitable for transplantation, but other organs and tissues may be fine. Don't disqualify yourself prematurely. Only medical professionals at the time of your death can determine whether your organs are suitable for transplantation.
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Myth: I'd like to donate one of my kidneys now, but I wouldn't be allowed to do that unless one of my family members is in need.

Fact: While that used to be the case, it isn't any longer. Whether it's a distant family member, friend or complete stranger you want to help, you can donate a kidney through certain transplant centers. If you decide to become a living donor, you will undergo extensive questioning to ensure that you are aware of the risks and that your decision to donate isn't based on financial gain. You will also undergo testing to determine if your kidneys are in good shape and whether you can live a healthy life with just one kidney.
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Myth: Rich and famous people go to the top of the list when they need a donor organ.

Fact: The rich and famous aren't given priority when it comes to allocating organs. It may seem that way because of the amount of publicity generated when celebrities receive a transplant, but they are treated no differently from anyone else. In fact, the United Network for Organ Sharing (UNOS), the organization responsible for maintaining the national organ transplant network, subjects all celebrity transplants to an internal audit to make sure the organ allocation was appropriate.
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Myth: My family will be charged if I donate my organs.

Fact: The organ donor's family is never charged for donating. The family is charged for the cost of all final efforts to save your life, and those costs are sometimes misinterpreted as costs related to organ donation. Costs for organ removal go to the transplant recipient.

Donation... Give the gift of Smiles & of Yourself.

A while back, I had written a post about an experience that took myself and my husband by surprise. We knew that when the time was right, we were going to pass on the gift of giving to someone. We have since been on the lookout of who and how we were going to "Pay It Forward" to.

This is a concept I already had in mind for myself though, since I had turned the age of eighteen. Since then, I have been a Registered Donor to donate anything I can in the event of my death.

Who knew that at the age of thirty-two, just fourteen years after becoming a Donor, that I also would be seeing the whole topic of Organ/Tissue Donation from the other side of the fence. You can read my Corneal Transplant Recipient story HERE.

But also, I have been able to "pay it forward" monetarily. And thanks to the donations that were all pooled together, a record twenty-five children were able to purchase books at the Spring Book Fair at school.

Hayley had found a $100 bill in the school's soccer field a while back and brought it home. Sure I got on her for not turning it in right away. But then, I myself constantly forgot to take it with me to turn in as well.

So, seeing as so much time has passed, we (Scott and I collectively) decided to donate the $100 to the school's Library for the Book Fair's "Students in Need" box. After the totals were counted, there was close to $190.00 to split between the kids. Pre-K through Fist grade students were able to spend up to $5 and those in Second through Fifth grade were able to spend up to $10.

It felt wonderful to see the long list and know that so many children were being helped this year. I'm NOT happy that they had to be on it, because of such financial hardships in their families. But I AM happy that these kids were able to continue on the path to a wonderful love and enjoyment of reading.

Although, there is something else, along with the love of reading that is very close to my heart. That is Organ/Tissue Donation Awareness. Not just because I am a Registered Donor, as is my husband. But because we as a family have experienced firsthand the miracles of Tissue Donation. To be able to regain (most of) my sight back is an honest miracle. And as a mother, being down just ONE eye is hard to deal with. No matter how much you do to "adapt".

Did you know that you can be a LIVING Donor? Blood, a piece of your liver, a kidney, bone marrow, tendons and other tissues.

Then, you have Donors that donate skin, corneas, major organs such as your hearts and lungs. Plus cadaver (deceased) donors can give their tissues, bones, livers, kidneys, and intestines.

Right now, in the United States of America, the statistics for Recipients CURRENTLY awaiting their "gifts of LIFE" stands at (provided by Organ Procurement & Transplant Network)..

All Organs 110,484
Kidney 88,087
Liver 16,164
Pancreas 1,384
Heart 3,188
Lung 1,758
Intestine 265

As a Registered Donor, you can potentially save up to eight people's lives, and enrich and better about 50 lives.

Giving has always been a part of me and of who I am. I give what I can, where I can, when I can. So signing up to be an Organ/Eye/Tissue Donor was a no-brainer for me. If you are interested in becoming a Donor, please visit OrganDonor.Gov or United Network for Organ Sharing (UNOS) and find out more Organ Transplantation and becoming a HERO, and to find out how to register in your state or Provence.

Because to us, our Donors (living and deceased), and their families are indeed our HEROES!

Japan, the Bible, and the Apocalypse.. Oh my!

What a ride this past weekend has been. Between dealing with a death in the family, Japan being rocked (literally) to its knees and everything else in between, you would honestly think that Armageddon has finally started to rear its head.

First the initial earthquake, then the earthquake-provided tsunami, then aftershocks that are as big almost as the initial quake, now TWO Nuclear Power Plant explosions.

Thanks for a FaceBook friend posting the following, I can now (clearly) see the signs of impeding warning that is upon us globally.

"Sept 11 (NY), Jan 11 (Haiti), March 11 (Japan)...Luke 21:10-11 : "Nation will rise against nation, & kingdom against kingdom. There will be great earthquakes, famines, and pestilences in various places, and fearful events and great signs from Heaven.". Jesus says, For behold I come quickly, (so...ask yourself are we ready?)."

Until now, I didn't really pay much attention. But look at this pattern...Three sets of "11" on the day's dates. Plus one of them was 2001, another also was in 2011. Too many ones for my head to wrap around.

Makes what I had posted in my ParanorMel blog about the Horseman of the Apocalypse video seem more real than "shopped or cropped".

To read about the video from MSNBC that *supposedly* caught the ghostly figure of one of the Bible's Four Horsemen during a nighttime riot in Cairo, Egypt, CLICK HERE.

Pretty eerie stuff if you ask me. Sure I'm still on the proverbial fence as to the validity of the piece. If I wasn't in the technologically advanced age, then I say that that is some cause for worry.

On the flip side of the argument though, if indeed someone did in fact catch the horseman REALLY riding through, fulfilling Biblical Prophesy for our generation's time, then my friends, some of us are in some deep shit. And some of us are about to be called home.

One of my favorite novel series to read is the Left Behind books. It's a series by Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins. The books speak about topics of Christian dispensationalist End Times: pretribulation, premillennial, Christian eschatological viewpoint of the end of the world.

Pretty fascinating and capturing stuff, if you ask me.

Just too much is happening within the world on a global scale to NOT really take a deeper look in to why all of these "natural disasters" are taking place as well as other life-taking matters (terrorist attacks, wars, severe famine and pestilence). When you think about it all, and put one and one together, it honestly makes you see things in a much bigger picture being interwoven like a spider's web of destruction.

Being ABUSED? There IS hope and yes, a WAY OUT. (*Graphic/Explicit*)

**The reason that I am re-posting this blog entry is because my "integrity" was apparently called in to question in regards of assumption of another matter. So was the fact of my being "supportive" and "understanding" towards another's plight in light of them trying to leave an abusive situation.


I see it this way... If you don't TRULY know of the ordeal I went through as a {formerly} abused woman, TWICE over, then NO ONE has the right to "call me out" in such a manner. Especially in a place where I posted to MY personal area on another website.**

WARNING!! This is a very "straight to the point" blog post about abuse (of all kinds/types). There will be strong language and graphic descriptions of abuse that I had endured. This post is a teaching tool, as well as one to give support and let others know that there is hope. If this seems like too much for you, then I suggest you back out of it now. You have been warned...


Abuse. It can take it's shape in many forms. Verbal. Emotional. Mental. Sexual. Physical. And yes, even Financial.

For those that have their fortune go their way and have never been abused, they in many ways just "don't get it" when the woman (or the man) doesn't "walk away", being it's (to them) just simple as that.

For those that have been unlucky even just once to be abused, they know all-too-well that in the real world, it honestly is not "just that simple" to walk away and never look back.

Especially when the court tells you that the only good and decent thing that came from that relationship is a child, must go and see the non-custodial parent (that abused you)every other weekend.

Yes. I am one of the unlucky ones. Twice over. And in reality, the first relationship was FAR worse than the second. At least the latter one didn't have me almost dying that particular day.

Back in the summer of 1997, I was still living in Nevada. In the Reno-Carson area. My (then) best friend and I had an apartment. My (then) boyfriend was living with us as well. Before hand, he was just staying a night or two per week at a previous apartment,

At first, during the "honeymoon phase" all was well. We were happy and having fun. But not even a month in to the relationship, he got more demanding. I was more of a maid and waitress than his girlfriend. Then, the "joking" insults came. But they too got more frequent, and much more demeaning.

Finally, one night, he got mad because I told him I was through. I wanted him to pack his shit and leave. I got tired of being called a whore, a nagging, fucking bitch, being assaulted when he wanted sex (and I wasn't wanting it), of his having no job (and I paid the bills), and of being told I was a worthless piece of shit that he didn't really love.

Well, that's also I guess when his sanity left and his true, angry, abusive self came out in full force. He picked me up with one hand by the throat. I remember the searing sting as his nails dug in as his fingers got tighter. He literally was cutting off my airway. I couldn't get in a single breath. And his eyes were of nothing but pure evil. They were truly demonic. I can't say which scared me more. His grip, or the look in his eyes.

After releasing me, you could see the scratches and the instant prints from where his fingers had gripped me tightly. It was then that he left. The next day, as my BFF and I were at work, he came and not only got his stuff (some of it). But he took much of my things. Including the chest of drawers that were my mothers. Of course, he "didn't do it". And none of my friend's things were taken. Nor were much of his. But MOST of mine? Yeah okay....

After that relationship, I swore I wouldn't get in to that trap again. I came to Virginia in the Fall of 1997. In 1998 I had a May-December romance with my (now ex) husband. We married after only dating a few months. Boy was I STUPID. Because I did what I said I wouldn't do again. And that was to get in to another abusive relationship.

Like many others (and one other time before him) I fell for the charm and for how sweet he was. But once we got married, it all changed. Fast.

Suddenly he didn't "want to" work anymore because he "didn't like" the job. Yeah. Like I LOVED working for almost minimum wage and getting shit on by customers at the local Wal-Mart.

In 1999, my oldest child was born from that marriage. By then, he was working. Nights. But he didn't at times get home until about four in the morning. Even though he got off at two in the morning and it was only about a twenty-five minute ride home.

Plus he almost slammed my head in to the truck's dashboard when I was seven-months pregnant. But I wasn't smart enough at that time to leave. It was over my not choosing right then and there where to eat.

From that point, it had gotten to the come home late, then quit the job, telling me I was a nagging bitch (boy that one sounded too familiar), that I did nothing but sit on my ass (even though I worked, paid the bills and cleaned best I could EVERY night I came home).

Towards the end, it was primarily verbal and emotional abuse. But he also raised his hand to me a few times. But never struck me. By the time Hayley was almost five months old, I was "seeing" someone else. And I left my abusive husband. I took what I needed as he was not at home one day (in a black garbage bag) such as baby bottles, clothes for Hayley and myself, a few of her toys, money I had put up, diapers, and formula.

After that I never looked back, nor did I ever go back.

Today, I am HAPPILY married to the man who's sister literally saved my daughter's life (and mine). The two of them helped me find a way out. And my husband has been a wonderful father to Hayley in the ten years we have been together. And he treats her no different from the two children we have had together. And this October, we will celebrate eight years of marriage.

You CAN leave. You CAN be happy. Yes, it will be hard. No, there is NO easy ways out of an abusive relationship. But I can tell you, it IS POSSIBLE. You need to want to get out and find the courage within (which you DO have hidden inside your soul) to do so. And there are things you may have to do (such as restraining orders and court hearings) that will be greatly difficult.

Abuse is not a way to love someone. It's a way to CONTROL a person. To make the abuser feel worthy and important. But in the end, it makes the abused feel hopeless, worthless and like there is no way out. Which is the primary goal of the attacker.

Listen to the words in the following music video. Yes, it has the lyrics in it, but I'm going to post a copy of the lyrics as well. Read them carefully. And "be forever free to dream".



"Black Eyes, Blue Tears"

Black eyes, I don't need 'em
Blue tears, gimme freedom
Positively never goin' back
I won't live where things are so out of whack
No more rollin' with the punches
No more usin' or abusin'

I'd rather die standing
Than live on my knees
Begging please-no more

Black eyes-I don't need 'em
Blue tears-gimme freedom
Black eyes-all behind me
Blue tears'll never find me now

Definitley found my self esteem
Finally-I'm forever free to dream
No more cryin' in the corner
No excuses-no more bruises

I'd rather die standing
Than live on my knees
Begging please-no more

Black eyes-I don't need 'em
Blue tears-gimme freedom
Black eyes-all behind me
Blue tears'll never find me now

I'd rather die standing
Than live on my knees, begging please...

Black eyes-I don't need 'em
Blue tears-gimme freedom
Black eyes-all behind me
Blue tears'll never find me now

It's all behind me, they'll never find me now

Find your self-esteem and be forever free to dream

[ SHANIA TWAIN LYRICS at www.AZLyrics.com ]

Please, if you are in an abusive relationship, find it within yourself to leave and to live your life again. I promise you, it WILL get better.

Nat. Domestic Violence Hot Line  (1−800−799−SAFE(7233) or TTY 1−800−787−3224)

....I'm as green as the ring on my little, cold finger, I've
Never known the lovin' of a man
But it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand, there's a
Boy here in town says he'll, love my forever
Who would have thought forever could be severed by
The sharp knife of a short life,

...And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'
Funny when your dead how people start listenin'

....Uh oh (uh, oh)
The ballad of a dove (uh, oh)
Go with peace and love
Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket
Save them for a time when your really gonna need them, oh

"If I Die Young"..

Sadly, many women do around the world. Thanks to Domestic Violence and Domestic Abuse. Most times, it is far too late to get the help that they so desperately need to get away from their abuser/attacker. And by the time anything is truly done in regards to the abuser, the woman is already forever gone.

Domestic Violence and Domestic Abuse can take place within anyone's home. And it is NOT always the man that is the abuser. There are women who have been known to abuse their boyfriend/husband or their girlfriend/wife. Men are just better known to be an abuser.

And I am a survivor of Domestic Abuse/Violence. The worst case of it being when I was in my early twenties. I was at the time living with my former BFF and my former (abusive) boyfriend.

At first, it was just little things. Basically, he was just a lazy bastard that suddenly felt that I needed to 'cater' to him and HIS needs. Then, as time went on, in came the isolation and the constant "checking up" on me to see about my whereabouts and who I was with (if he and I weren't together).

One day though, near the very end of the relationship, he finally snapped like the proverbial twig. I made a remark and basically told him that it was time for HIM to move out. Suddenly, rage had filled his eyes. It's as if a demon entered his body and took it over. All in the course of a split second.

Next thing I know, I feel the palm of his hand on my throat, and his fingers wrapped around. I could feel my pulse pulsating his fingers. And I felt the blood trying to pump and supply my brain with needed oxygen.

My airway was cut off completely, and I struggled as his hand lifted my feet off the ground as he was choking me literally to death. There was not an ounce of air entering my body. I could feel myself fighting off passing out.

And as quickly as it happened, it stopped. But not before he squeezed my throat so tight, that I turned red, and then bluish purple in the lips (by my friend's account, who witnessed this), and that I had felt the searing pain of his nails digging in to my neck.

After he let go, he tried to apologize and started crying. "Boo-fucking-hoo" was my thought, and I opened the door and told him to get out, and to not come back. I threw most of his shit out to the curb, but he broke in to MY home and stole things that were mine (and of course claimed it was NOT him, though none of HIS things were missing that were left behind).

In a moment, my life was almost gone. He either could have choked me to death, or could have snapped my neck and then he would have broken it, causing instant death. But he let me go in time.

I'm one of the lucky ones. I am a survivor. I am NOT a victim. Victims sadly are those that had died at the hands of someone that they loved and trusted. Or they are the ones that are too scared to leave their attacker/abuser, in fear of what may happen in the aftermath.

I'm here to say to those of you reading this, and are in an abusive relationship...YOU CAN GET OUT! No, it will not be easy. And yes, he/she will make their threats and scare you in to staying. And you will have to learn once again how to live and to take YOUR life back.

Abusers are all about power and control. They want to have all of it, and for their victims to relinquish it all to them. It's a power trip. So, they will use anything and everything against you to get what THEY feel that is "rightfully" theirs. Hitting, name-calling, isolation tactics, talking down towards the victim. It's all used to get the upper hand.

But I can tell you that you CAN get the upper hand back. It just takes the courage deep within that yes, YOU DO HAVE inside, and the willingness to leave. And their ARE organizations that can and will help you.

The police. The hospital. Social Services. And the National Domestic Violence Hot Line. Family and friends, too can help you. Don't be scared. There is a better life out there for you. Much better than the life you are forced to live now. NO ONE should be a caged bird, with its wings clipped. That is NOT living life. That is living a slow death.

Please, if you are in an abusive relationship, find it within yourself to leave and to live your life again. I promise you, it WILL get better.

Nat. Domestic Violence Hot Line  (1−800−799−SAFE(7233) or TTY 1−800−787−3224)

....I'm as green as the ring on my little, cold finger, I've
Never known the lovin' of a man
But it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand, there's a
Boy here in town says he'll, love my forever
Who would have thought forever could be severed by
The sharp knife of a short life,

...And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'
Funny when your dead how people start listenin'

....Uh oh (uh, oh)
The ballad of a dove (uh, oh)
Go with peace and love
Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket
Save them for a time when your really gonna need them, oh

I won't remember for a day,or for the month.This 'rememberance' will be with me until I die.

See the ribbon above? I have chosen personally to not only remember this important day of awareness on just October fifteenth of every year. But, to remember it for the entire month of October.

Nor will I ever be allowed to forget for the rest of my days.

October fifteenth is known nationally (in the USA) as "Pregnancy And Infant Loss Remembrance Day". And for many mothers such as myself, as well as the millions around the world, we will never be able to forget our babies. Some of us were lucky enough to hold them for a few hours, a few days, or a few months. Then again, some of us (such is my case) never got to hold, touch or even see our baby.

On Halloween Day of 2003, I was in the sixteenth week of pregnancy. All was going fine (as so I thought, seeing as I had no complications to that point, and it was my third pregnancy). That day, I was scheduled for a vaginal ultrasound being I was a high-risk pregnancy for health reasons.

I knew, the second I had seen the little peanut on the screen, something was very off. After having so many ultrasounds in the past, I knew what to look for. And the one thing that none of us had seen was the heart fluttering.

After the doctor's tone changed to the ever-so-famous "cautiously optimistic" tone, I knew that it was confirming what I already knew thanks to my "Mommy gut".

To get a better look and to indeed confirm what all of us already knew, I got placed on the big ultrasound. And then and there, I had the worst nightmare for a pregnant mother to go through. My baby was dead.

After getting the shocking news, my mother-in-law called my husband to get to the doctor's office. All he knew was that something was wrong with the baby. After we both got over the shock of all that happened, I called where we both worked at the time and let them know. For some stupid reason I kept on apologizing for not making it back to work from my extended lunch time.

A few days later, seeing as the baby did not miscarry on it's own, I was forced to have a D & C (Dilation and Curettage) to help expel my twelve to fourteen-week-old baby. I was nearing toxic levels in my system from the baby being dead inside for up to approximately four weeks. It was the worst and the most horrific surgerical procedure that I have ever had to endure.

All I knew was this was NOT supposed to be happening. I was not to be having to abort my baby. I was supposed to be having a normal pregnancy and readying for the new addition to our hearts. And instead, I was being forced to let him or her go.

To this day, especially when Halloween Day is upon us, and when November third (the day that my baby was "officially" gone from me), I still grieve. And I often wonder what would have become of our Michael Gregory, if he had survived.

Sure, some will read this and say to themselves that I need to "get over it already". But they cannot EVER know the lasting pain and the hole that is forever etched in to your heart and in to your soul from a loss as deeply profound as losing your baby (or a child in general).

I may not have ever been able to have held and caressed my child in my arms. But he is forever within a special place of my heart, and is deep within my soul, right along with his two sisters and his brother. For they too had lost out on having another brother to love.

I Watched Someone Die Not Once, But Twice!

Today is World Alzheimer's Day. Do you know of someone that has been touched by this awful disease? Or, are you yourself inflicted with it?

My grandmother (Nana) had Alzheimer's. It started off slowly when I was still living in Nevada. Actually, I take that back. I strongly believe for her, it started while we were all still living in California, where I was born and primarily raised.

At first, it was very subtle. Nana would place something down in a pretty conspicuous place, where anyone with pretty good eyes (and back then, they were pretty good for her) could clearly see the object in question. Only, minutes later, she would get up and do whatever, only to search long and hard for what she "misplaced" moments earlier. When one of us (being myself, my dad, or my step-mom) would find it sitting practically in front of our face, we all would just laugh it off and chalk it up to Nana having a "blond moment".

But as time wore on, and after we moved to Nevada, things with Nana's memory was getting worse. And worrisome. She had gotten to a point where she could tell you about her childhood and teen years, but could not recite to you what she ate for dinner the night before.

Eventually, long after my dad and step-mother divorced, Nana's Alzheimer's really took a hold of her, along with the other factoring health problems (such as her COPD and her Emphysema). At this point, my father's own health was starting to rapidly decline, due mainly to the stress of being his mother's primary caregiver. Even with outside resources stepping in to help with her care...

Eventually, there was no other choice. And it was primarily for my father's health and sanity, that Nana was placed in to a Nursing Care Facility. Not too long after her transfer to the home, her mental status declined dramatically.

No longer could she tell you what she ate just a couple of hours before, for dinner or any other meal. Now, my father became my uncle. Because whenever my dad went in (almost daily) to see her, Nana thought that he was her oldest son, not my father. That really tore him apart inside. No longer was he the son that was REALLY there, and that was her main caretaker.

About a year or so after her entrance in to the Nursing Home, and at the point where that God-awful disease, Alzheimer's robbed my grandmother of her mental faculties completely, I got the call that I was dreading for the last couple of years. The day before her birthday, no less.

That next VERY early morning, I hopped on the first of THREE planes (stupid layovers!) to get to her, hopefully in time. She was in the hospital, her organs shutting down. Her mind now ravaged savagely by the Alzheimer's. They gave her (at best) 24 hours. It was then about the 23 to 25 hour mark when I got in to Reno, and hence to the hospital with my dad.

Somewhere in between his waiting for me at the airport and us getting to the hospital, Nana apparently suffered a Stroke. Her Hernia that she developed made her look AT LEAST seven months pregnant.

At one point, I had to leave the room. I could no longer take seeing her in that condition. For me, that was NOT *my* grandmother. That was *not* the same woman, by looking at her, that helped to raise me the rest of the way after my mother's death in 1989. So, as calmly as I could, I told her I would be back in a bit, as to let her rest.

For a brief moment in time, she had a twinge of clarity within her ravaged mind. Which of course, by then was moments that were far and few in between. She started mumbling and her hands started to go erratic. She was (in the only way she could, being she couldn't speak due to the stroke) trying to tell me not to leave her. She was getting so upset, I told her (through yelling, being the stroke damaged the nerves in her ears) I'd be back. She calmed a bit, but not much..Finally I had to leave. I almost got sick all over the ward's floor from seeing what I did. It was horrific..

Before that point, all she did was breath and stare at the ceiling without literally batting an eyelash. That alone brought me back to being 12-years-old and seeing my mother in pretty much the same condition after her stroke. For me, history was repeating it's self and rearing its ugly head before my very eyes.

The next day, we went back. She made it through her birthday. But later that next evening, something inside me said to NOT go and see her when they transferred her back to the Nursing Home. To die.

Not even an hour after I had changed my mind, we got *THE* call. She was gone. Free now, from the pain that she had to endure at the end. And finally, Alzheimer's Disease no longer had it's horrible grip upon her mind. She was free.

A few years later, my father and I were talking about Nana. He finally admitted something to me. Years before, when Hayley and Bryce were 2 years and 3 months of age, it was the ONLY time that she (Nana) was able to see, touch and hold her great-grand-babies. I'm so happy she was. And he even posted a family picture of us on her Nursing Home room's wall.

It came out in this conversation with Dad, that about a month before she passed away, Nana had forgotten who I was. She would look at the picture and without missing a beat, would ask my father who it was (the young lady) in the picture that was on her wall. Then she would ask about my (now) husband, Scott and the kids.

To hear that she no longer remembered the woman whom she helped raise tore me apart inside. It made me angry. Not at her, but at the disease. It made me resentful. Why me? Why did that nasty disease have to rob me of her, and in turn, her of me?

It's truly sickening to watch and know of someone you love, and that (more than likely) took care of you, just waste away to practically nothing. It is a disease I don't care to wish upon my worst enemy.

For me and my father, we didn't lose our mother and grandmother just once in our lives. We had to endure losing her twice. The first time, she was 'dead', but still breathing. And that is the worst kind of death, in my mind, to see someone you love go through.

If you wish to know more about Alzheimer's disease and it's history of origin, please CLICK HERE.

Being a Mother (Or Wife) *Really Is* A 'Thankless' Job!

I honestly DO love being my children's mother. They bring smiles to my face in one way or another, almost on a daily basis.

I've laughed with them. I've cried with them. I've laughed at their actions or words. I've cried for them.

All in all, I would die for them, if need be. I would do almost anything for them. Almost.

When you hear women say that motherhood is a 'thankless' job, they aren't kidding! It truly is a 'thankless' job, indeed. No pay (as in no monetary gain), no vacation (even when you ARE on vacation, away from the kids), no sick days (being you still most of the time, end up caring for them, even when feeling your worst), and no promotion (being that you have the highest job in the "company").

You cook. You clean. You ensure that they have all that they need, basics-wise. You make sure that they are up, ready, and prepared for school each morning. And never once (or so rare, that we often forget it has been said) do you get a "thanks for all that you do, Mom" comment from them.

Lately, I have gotten really tired. Tired of being the (Not Very) Merry Maid around the house. No matter what I threaten my kids with, be it loss of TV or computer time, or any other interests that I can take away, it doesn't seem to sink in.

It's a CONSTANT battle to get, let alone KEEP the house (especially their rooms and the play/family room) decently clean for more than twenty-four hours at a time. And instead of THEM HELPING to clean up around the house (mainly their own messes), I end up having to. Or else I have "consequences" to pay. Such as hearing my husband bitch and moan.

In fact, I also have to clean up after him. It's little things. But even then, I feel it is a bit...hypocritical of him to get on the kids about not cleaning up after themselves, but he leaves band-aid wrappers laying around, or a glass on the table.

It must be nice to go to your job, work your ass off, and when you do something that is "above and beyond", you get a compliment. Praise is a nice "payment" or "reward" for a job well done.

Sadly though, many a mother and/or wife that stays home all day doesn't hear those simple, few words that can and does make her day. What are they, you ask?

"The house looks really good. You did a good job".

Honestly, how hard IS this for any man to say? Must be almost impossible. I get "dumped on" with his daily work happenings. I also get told of the GOOD points of his day as well. The same with the kids.

The minute I try to talk about my "roses and thorns" though, I get deaf ears and practically ignored. Or at times even told "I don't want to hear it"...Nice, huh?

I know for a fact, that I am far from being the ONLY wife/mother with these thoughts, and these "situations". But just once in a while, I want to be seen as more than that. I want more than JUST the respect of being 'just' a wife to my husband, and 'just' the mother to my children.

For so many years, I have been struggling to keep MY identity. My pre-wife and my pre-motherhood identities. Thus far, I think I have failed in still trying to be the ME that I was before husbands and kids. I know that I am more than these two things. But apparently, I am not viewed in any other manner. At least not in my own home.

This may be far from the truth. I'm sure that my husband would tell me otherwise. But then again, 'actions speak louder than words'.

Walgreens Drugs should have been named "Failgreens".

At this point in time, I have nothing good to say about this company. At least not where my local store is concerned. While the staff IS friendly, they have a major problem with CORRECTLY filling drug prescriptions for ONE client.

No one should have to (after this evening) make THREE trips to the pharmacy to pick up my child's medications. Why? Because I got only ONE of three to be filled (along with his sister's one).

Then, I had to go get the ones left behind (that are NORMALLY bagged together), only to get 5 freaking pills from a 30-day supply refill. Because apparently (without my knowledge) they were running low.

Even this evening when I pick up, I can only have a total of 20 from the 30 I'm supposed to have.

The person(s) filling my son's medications 'accidentally' placed the ones I was missing in the WRONG pick-up bin as well. I found this out yesterday evening when I noticed the 'mistake' and called them about it.

I'm glad that what he takes are not drugs he needs to live (like Insulin or Anti-Rejection meds)..He missed a dose last night. If he was on the latter that I mentioned, that COULD POTENTIALLY kill or seriously injure someone because they were not able to have access to their medication!

The employees also need to only have ONE person filling for ONE client when there are multiple scrips for that one person. I mainly blame THAT as the reason for this whole entire debacle even taking place.

Yes, they are human. Yes, people make mistakes. But when you work in ANY area of the health care system, being it as a CNA, a Medical Doctor, or a Pharmacist, there really isn't much, or even any period, room for error. Especially when it comes to the health, well-being and overall LIVES that you are taking care of.

I've learned a VALUABLE lesson, especially after today. BEFORE you even pull out of the parking lot, pull the medications OUT of the bag(s), read them and make sure you have all the pills accounted for on the label(s) and ensure that you have ALL of your medicines you were to have filled that day in your hands.

Teens and Young Adults.... See what can REALLY happen behind the wheel of a car.

Driving is a privilege. It is *not* a right. And you are handling a possibly deadly weapon. And it *can* cause mass destruction. In your life, the lives of your passengers, your victim(s), and their family.

Your eyes NEED TO BE on the road at all times. Not dialing a cell number. Not texting or reading a text from a buddy. Not looking down on the floor for the CD.

Both young, new drivers (16 year-olds) and their elderly counterparts make up for the most accidents with a vehicle in the United States.

I'm urging my readers and their teen kids (even those almost getting their license or Learner's Permits) RIGHT NOW to scroll down and WATCH the video.

WARNING!! This video is VERY graphic, but also VERY accurate. It will quite possibly make you feel ill, make you cry, or even hyperventilate.

Maybe that's what MANY teen drivers need...Shock and seeing what REAL LIFE is like during a vehicle accident.



Unsafe Driving... - The top video clips of the week are here


Thank you to all that had watched this very poignant video. Please parents, I URGE YOU to PLEASE talk with your teenagers and young adult children about the repercussions of UNSAFE driving practices. You may save your child's life, and at least one other life in the world by doing so.

McDonald's is changing the world.

McDonald's. It's been a kid-friendly staple for over fifty years. Who knew that when Ray Kroc first opened his little burger joint's doors, that it would be the mega-empire it is today?

It wasn't (if I remember correctly) until the middle 1970's that Happy Meals started to appear. Back then, it was either a hamburger or cheeseburger, with a small fry and a kid-sized drink.

Today, there are various types of Happy Meals. From burgers, to nuggets, to even a Snack Wrap. Plus you can now choose fries or "Apple Dippers", and either a milk (or chocolate milk), Apple Juice, or a fountain drink (AKA soda).

The other day, I had taken my kids for a breakfast. I had no milk, so no cereal. And I wanted to get out of the house anyways. At first I didn't seem to notice, but when I went to throw some trash away, I did.

Usually, you can see the small, plastic boxes where you can drop coins in to the box's slot. All proceeds in that box goes to the Ronald McDonald's Charity House for your general locality.

There, now in a huge window display poster, it now reads that Happy Meals and McDonald's was bringing even more smiles...and hope to kids and their families.

Namely families with sick, hospitalized children.

To my memory, if it serves me right, my parents, a time or two, had to stay at the Ronald McDonald Charity House while I was hospitalized. Plus, even though it was for a (grown) uncle, I and his (then) girlfriend and were able to stay a night at the Ronald McDonald Charity House here for this area.

McDonald's has (for the most part) always been committed to children and their families. They help HUNDREDS of families every year, around the United States.

When families, and their children must travel long distances for medical treatment, or the child is transferred via ambulance or helicopter to a distant hospital, then this is where the RMCH comes in.

They house the family (and sometimes the child too, if they are not admitted to the hospital), feed them a meal, let them shower and rest. And the RMCH has as much of a comfortable environment as possible. To make it as much a "home away from home" as they can make it.

I'm so happy that children and their families have somewhere to go, and feel safe, and be comfortable, as well as relaxed during their child's most trying time of life. And I'm happy to be a part of it. I love giving back to those that helped me and my family when I was a child. Be it RMCH, Children's Miracle Network (CMN), or Shriner's Organization.

Without them all, I don't know where myself, my parents or the millions of families like ours would have (or would in the future) do without them.

Black Eyes (I almost got them). Blue Tears (gave me freedom).

WARNING!! This is a very "straight to the point" blog post about abuse (of all kinds/types). There will be strong language and graphic descriptions of abuse that I had endured. This post is a teaching tool, as well as one to give support and let others know that there is hope. If this seems like too much for you, then I suggest you back out of it now. You have been warned...


Abuse. It can take it's shape in many forms. Verbal. Emotional. Mental. Sexual. Physical. And yes, even Financial.

For those that have their fortune go their way and have never been abused, they in many ways just "don't get it" when the woman (or the man) doesn't "walk away", being it's (to them) just simple as that.

For those that have been unlucky even just once to be abused, they know all-too-well that in the real world, it honestly is not "just that simple" to walk away and never look back.

Especially when the court tells you that the only good and decent thing that came from that relationship is a child, must go and see the non-custodial parent (that abused you)every other weekend.

Yes. I am one of the unlucky ones. Twice over. And in reality, the first relationship was FAR worse than the second. At least the latter one didn't have me almost dying that particular day.

Back in the summer of 1997, I was still living in Nevada. In the Reno-Carson area. My (then) best friend and I had an apartment. My (then) boyfriend was living with us as well. Before hand, he was just staying a night or two per week at a previous apartment,

At first, during the "honeymoon phase" all was well. We were happy and having fun. But not even a month in to the relationship, he got more demanding. I was more of a maid and waitress than his girlfriend. Then, the "joking" insults came. But they too got more frequent, and much more demeaning.

Finally, one night, he got mad because I told him I was through. I wanted him to pack his shit and leave. I got tired of being called a whore, a nagging, fucking bitch, being assaulted when he wanted sex (and I wasn't wanting it), of his having no job (and I paid the bills), and of being told I was a worthless piece of shit that he didn't really love.

Well, that's also I guess when his sanity left and his true, angry, abusive self came out in full force. He picked me up with one hand by the throat. I remember the searing sting as his nails dug in as his fingers got tighter. He literally was cutting off my airway. I couldn't get in a single breath. And his eyes were of nothing but pure evil. They were truly demonic. I can't say which scared me more. His grip, or the look in his eyes.

After releasing me, you could see the scratches and the instant prints from where his fingers had gripped me tightly. It was then that he left. The next day, as my BFF and I were at work, he came and not only got his stuff (some of it). But he took much of my things. Including the chest of drawers that were my mothers. Of course, he "didn't do it". And none of my friend's things were taken. Nor were much of his. But MOST of mine? Yeah okay....

After that relationship, I swore I wouldn't get in to that trap again. I came to Virginia in the Fall of 1997. In 1998 I had a May-December romance with my (now ex) husband. We married after only dating a few months. Boy was I STUPID. Because I did what I said I wouldn't do again. And that was to get in to another abusive relationship.

Like many others (and one other time before him) I fell for the charm and for how sweet he was. But once we got married, it all changed. Fast.

Suddenly he didn't "want to" work anymore because he "didn't like" the job. Yeah. Like I LOVED working for almost minimum wage and getting shit on by customers at the local Wal-Mart.

In 1999, my oldest child was born from that marriage. By then, he was working. Nights. But he didn't at times get home until about four in the morning. Even though he got off at two in the morning and it was only about a twenty-five minute ride home.

Plus he almost slammed my head in to the truck's dashboard when I was seven-months pregnant. But I wasn't smart enough at that time to leave. It was over my not choosing right then and there where to eat.

From that point, it had gotten to the come home late, then quit the job, telling me I was a nagging bitch (boy that one sounded too familiar), that I did nothing but sit on my ass (even though I worked, paid the bills and cleaned best I could EVERY night I came home).

Towards the end, it was primarily verbal and emotional abuse. But he also raised his hand to me a few times. But never struck me. By the time Hayley was almost five months old, I was "seeing" someone else. And I left my abusive husband. I took what I needed as he was not at home one day (in a black garbage bag) such as baby bottles, clothes for Hayley and myself, a few of her toys, money I had put up, diapers, and formula.

After that I never looked back, nor did I ever go back.

Today, I am HAPPILY married to the man who's sister literally saved my daughter's life (and mine). The two of them helped me find a way out. And my husband has been a wonderful father to Hayley in the ten years we have been together. And he treats her no different from the two children we have had together. And this October, we will celebrate eight years of marriage.

You CAN leave. You CAN be happy. Yes, it will be hard. No, there is NO easy ways out of an abusive relationship. But I can tell you, it IS POSSIBLE. You need to want to get out and find the courage within (which you DO have hidden inside your soul) to do so. And there are things you may have to do (such as restraining orders and court hearings) that will be greatly difficult.

Abuse is not a way to love someone. It's a way to CONTROL a person. To make the abuser feel worthy and important. But in the end, it makes the abused feel hopeless, worthless and like there is no way out. Which is the primary goal of the attacker.

Listen to the words in the following music video. Yes, it has the lyrics in it, but I'm going to post a copy of the lyrics as well. Read them carefully. And "be forever free to dream".





"Black Eyes, Blue Tears"

Black eyes, I don't need 'em
Blue tears, gimme freedom
Positively never goin' back
I won't live where things are so out of whack
No more rollin' with the punches
No more usin' or abusin'

I'd rather die standing
Than live on my knees
Begging please-no more

Black eyes-I don't need 'em
Blue tears-gimme freedom
Black eyes-all behind me
Blue tears'll never find me now

Definitley found my self esteem
Finally-I'm forever free to dream
No more cryin' in the corner
No excuses-no more bruises

I'd rather die standing
Than live on my knees
Begging please-no more

Black eyes-I don't need 'em
Blue tears-gimme freedom
Black eyes-all behind me
Blue tears'll never find me now

I'd rather die standing
Than live on my knees, begging please...

Black eyes-I don't need 'em
Blue tears-gimme freedom
Black eyes-all behind me
Blue tears'll never find me now

It's all behind me, they'll never find me now

Find your self-esteem and be forever free to dream




[ SHANIA TWAIN LYRICS at www.AZLyrics.com ]

The Life And Limitations Of A Corneal Graft Recipient

Over on my profile page at Facebook, a friend of mine had some questions about my Corneal Transplant that I had done in October of last year. I'm almost eight months post-transplant. Barring a few complications, so far, I'm doing quite well.

My friend's father had passed away a while back, and she had his corneas donated. They went to two different individuals. Thanks to her gift of her father's corneas, two more people are able to see the world around them.

There is sadly not as much conversation, education and awareness, as well as support for Corneal Grafting Transplants. We seem to be on the back burner. Mainly because to many it's "just an eye" and it's "just tissue". But the reality is...it is SO MUCH more than that!

Corneas are literally the windows to the world around us. Without corneas, you would not be able to see. AT ALL! Nor can you protect your eyes from MOST infections. Especially those that are air-borne caused.

Like many other things. Your eyes (and your corneas) get taken for granted. That is, until you lose the cornea, your sight, and almost the entire eye(s).

Here are the questions that she asks, and my answers.

Can you drive after you've had a cornea transplant ? No, not at this time. Due to complications of tight stitching and an ever-more developing Cataract, I am Legally Blind and would not be able to see things clearly from the left side or from my peripheral vision, which is still limited as well.

What about contact sports, swimming, flying etc? I can now just go back in to the water, but must be careful doing so. Contact sports are still a no-no. Flying, I don't know of yet either. I'm hoping to be allowed to get on roller coasters this summer with my kids at King's Dominion. Should know today, being I have a two-month checkup this afternoon.

Can the pressure from those cause damage to the transplant ? Ocular pressure certainly can harm the transplant. This is why it is checked at every visit. And for the first six weeks post-transplant, I wasn't allowed to bend at the waist, pick up objects (even my child) if they were over a specified weight, and even sex was banned.

Also, for the first week, I was not allowed to take a regular shower or wash my hair. I wasn't allowed to use face wash for the first month. I didn't color my hair again until like four months after surgery.

Just the other weekend, I got in to the pool. Before then, that was a no-no due to the chemicals used.

We (Corneal Graft patients) are placed on the ocular version of Prednisone. The side effects remain within the eye region, instead of having overall systemic effects.

I'm pretty sure I have some nerve damage in the way of nerve sensitivity. Now extreme heat (over 350 from an oven) and extreme cold (like from a freezer) either gives me a sharp pain or a "searing" feeling. I noticed those the first time I got to cook again, and when I opened a freezer section door at the store. And it's been like that ever since.

If anyone has ANY question in regards to Corneal Transplantation, or Donation, please feel free to ask away. Also, if you have yet to become a registered Organ/Tissue/Eye/Bone Donor, please click HERE and become a HERO.

SPD (sensory processing disorder) ....Weekend Warriors w/Adoption of Jane

This week's question from Tracie is...

Do you, your child, or family member have SPD (sensory processing disorder) issues?
What is a day in your life like?

As a matter of fact, yes Bryce does indeed have SPD. Though I don't normally talk about that part of his problems. Why, I can't say.

It has to primarily do with sounds for him. He gets 'overloaded' easily with audio environments.

The sounds he cannot stand, we can deal with. Such as a vacuum. Or a siren from a fire engine or police car. Or it could be one of his sisters screaming and yelling (with their high-pitched voices). Even at times, the TOILET seems to be too much.

Also, especially as of late, I have noticed Bryce having problems with certain food textures. He isn't in to things that have even a mild amount of lumps. And things that are too 'gooey' like puddings.

There are days where it seems like I can't go anywhere without Bryce complaining about noises. Especially decently loud ones. I can't take him to concerts, or to where there is a largely loud crowd. He gets too over stimulated.

When over-stimulation happens, be it loud noises, too many foods he can't stand (due to the textures aspect) or even a combination, Bryce can start having a severe fit because he can't control his environment, or he just shuts down and "hides away" from himself and everyone around him.

For me, as his mother, it can be quite troubling to watch and have to help him deal. But also, I am trying to teach him that not everything and everyone can, let alone WILL revolve around his world. At times, he MUST revolve around other people's world and the world at large.

There are times people (strangers) will see this unfold, and of course I get the stares, the head shakes and once in a while, someone will be bold enough to TELL ME that I need to better correct "the boy" and "be the parent, not the friend", being that he just seems to be displaying a spoiled, childish 'act for attention and to get his way'.

Most, if not ALL of Bryce's disabilities can be, and are mistaken for (at times) normal, childish, bratty attention-seeking misbehavior. What I can say is that yes, SOMETIMES, that is exactly what it is. But when he gets that bad, I can honestly say that it is NOT the case. That my son CANNOT help it. And that it is the SPD displaying its self.

There are times that I wish I could tie people to a chair, that think that they know *MY* child better than I do, and feel that they are the EXPERT in parenting a special needs child, and FORCE them to listen to loud things like the consistent thumping of loud music, sirens that don't seem to stop, loud horns honking left and right, and shove food in their mouth that tastes like they are eating half-dried mud cake....

And listening to everything AT ONE TIME as they are forced to chew on stuff that they can't stand having in their mouth.

Special Needs, Special Education, Aides, And Stuff.

As the mother of a Special Needs child that is NOT Neurotypical, I love to educate others (the public at large) on what it's like as a parent, but also for our kids, that have a SILENT Disability.

What is a Silent Disability you ask? Well, to put it in layman's terms, it means that someone has a disability, or a combination of different disabilities that does NOT outwardly show in physical appearance. They may walk and talk just fine. But on he INSIDE, it is a completely different story. The person may have Lupus or Fibromyalgia. Or they have Bipolar or Oppositional Defiance Disorder. And there are MANY upon many other ailments, malady's and illness that seem to not appear to be noticed on the outside of the body.

My son has several mental disorders. They impede and impact his daily living and social skills. And also his eating and sleeping habits. He has very few friends. He has a very difficult time with outward, verbal expression. He has emotional set backs, as well as a decreased maturity level (that is NOT within 'normal' range for a boy his age). For the most part, he looks, walks, and talks just like you and I. But when he displays his "quirks" and has manic episodes, and angers so badly that the devil looks like an angel, then you know something is seriously off with my boy.

Have you ever gotten upset at ANY person that parks in the Handicapped Parking space, only to see them get out and walk in to the store, minus a cane, walker, or scooter. And even without an oxygen tank? Are you more upset that they took that spot from a REAL disabled person? Or that they walk and act "just fine"? Maybe for you, it's both?

I've honestly lost count of how many stares my mother-in-law and I have gotten as we step out the van and WALK to the store's entrance from her handicapped parking space. She is disabled and cannot stay in the store and walk for too long. And she has a hard time breathing, but not needing oxygen (yet). She has Systemic Lupus, a colostomy bag and she tires easily due to the Lupus. But you cannot see that from just looking at her.

Now, back to children with Special Needs (of any kind, really). I was reading on my local news station's web page that a near-by county is CUTTING Behavioral Aides from their schools. Why? They suddenly became a part of the county's budget cuts.

http://www.wset.com/news/stories/0610/746253.html?ref=tw

Those that work with kids like mine are an integral part of those student's having the ability, focus and willingness to learn, and learn effectively. To take them away from those kids (as was said in the article) for even just ONE school year, can set those kids (potentially) back for SEVERAL years to come.

I'm sorry, but no basic Teacher's Aide will be able to 'effectively' assist those children in the manner that they need the help to be within the mainstream classroom setting. Not unless they too have children that have some type of mental/behavioral disability/disorder.

Even then, for as long as I have been dealing with and learning the ropes with my own child, it does NOT make me an "expert" in the field of Childhood Neurological Behavioral Sciences. I'm just a MOM that has a lot of personal experience and literature-based knowledge of what is wrong with MY child.

Many, if not MOST of those children have SSI Disability, as well as Medicaid Insurance. If need be, the kids can still have their Aides (those that will require the most one-on-one assistance), and Medicaid can pick up the bills. All they will need is a Pre-Authorization from their Specialist. Ninety-nine percent of the time, Pre-Auth's are APPROVED.

In the end, it's truly a win-win situation. No money out of the school's pocket (or the children's parents). And the kids get the Aides that they desperately need in order to receive the best education possible for their abilities (and disabilities).

Honestly, this is a 'no-brainer'....

My Shining Star (My Son)

Well, yet another chapter has been written for my child. Another diagnosis. Another medication. And I'm okay with it. We know what it is, what it's caused by and how long he could have the problem.

Finally, after almost a month of fighting and nipping the heels of the doctor's office staff manager, the insurance company and making some complaints filed, it happened. Bryce FINALLY got his prescription for the Intuniv approved to be covered by his insurance carrier. That's one less thing to worry about.

As for his oral tics, they have gotten worse. And we noted that they picked up more after the Intuniv was started. Although, we pinpointed that it is NOT the medication causing them. But the medications (one, two, or possibly all three) are bringing them out more than they would usually show.

Bryce has now been diagnosed with Tardive Diskinesia. Basically, his tics are a neurological disorder consisting of abnormal, involuntary body movements caused by certain medicines. It is usually associated with long-term use of medicines for treating schizophrenia and other psychotic disorders. And this disorder will most likely NEVER go away. He has a strong possibility of always having tics to some degree for the rest of his life. And some bouts can and do affect his day-to-day living.

By what we have seen, as early as infancy, he has always had a very mild case of tics. But since starting certain medicines (primarily the Seroquel and the Intuniv that was just added), the tics have become more prominent and vary in degree of progression and regression. They have once again gotten not only in to his mouth region, but also in his hands and feet. Even his eyebrows are getting the tics.

We as his parents, have seen great improvement in everything thanks to the Intuniv being added. He isn't as aggressive, or volatile. He has a better time focusing and being organized. Even his teachers had stated how improved he had been (they did NOT know I placed him on the Intuniv for the first 2 or so weeks). They said he was like day and night with the (positive) changes.

Of course, those changes came with a price. But it's one that all of us (myself, my husband Scott, and Bryce himself) are willing to pay. And that is the severe increase in the tic disorder. I'm calling him my Jumping Jellybean. 

My son, no matter his outward appearance is still a NORMAL, active, (for the most part) healthy boy. He just has A LOT of twitches. And yes, it can impact his speech and verbalizing things he wants to say. It takes him a bit longer to get his sentences out. Patience is the key. For both of us.

In fact, this year, Bryce (for the first time) is taking the Standards Of Learning Tests (math, reading, science, social studies). He has a "Test-Taking Buddy", where he goes off to the teacher's room that does Title-One reading to do his testing. He finds it better to be alone so he can talk-think his answers, doesn't feel as pressured to perform well, and isn't on a time limit (being he is disabled, those are his afforded rights as a disabled student). His scores will come in the mail with his final report card of the 2009-2010 school year.

He may not "look" normal, but he isn't your "average" kid either. He may be at about a 4 to 6-year-old mental-maturity level, but he has been deemed (like his older sister) to be Academically Gifted. He can do work from normal grade (3rd) range, up to 6th-grade-level, based on the subject.

I'm proud of all three of my kids. They are all my shining stars in one way or another. But Bryce's star shines just a tad brighter. He has endured one struggle after another in stride, and with pride. And he has (in his own unique way) shown this old mama just how strong and how far she will go to see that my kids are NEVER 'left behind'. And for that, I will forever be in his debt and he will always have my gratitude.