The game of "Operation"... Let's play

I am quite sure the reason people are addicted to Xanax is because of Surgeons visits themselves. The absurdity of it all and the ensued stress is enough to make anyone start taking massive quantities of pain killers chased by Tequila.

First of all I am not there to make friends in the waiting room. Please don't talk to me there or want me to color with your child while I am waiting to find out my fate. This isn't a Bingo hall.

Also, your cat scan scheduler is a bitch. I don't need to hear how swamped she is with work while I am wondering if I have to have another surgery at Christmas time. I mean really, this is her job.

If it were up to me I would like to discuss how you are going to cut me open and fix this... say... sitting in your living room so you can focus on just me. Maybe we could have your wife bring us some coffee and you can tell me how much care you will give me because you realize that if you don't I am about to go postal(sorry usps workers but you kind of coined the phrase) I would also like you to explain why you think you are qualified to play "Operation" on me while promising NOT to make the buzzer go off.

I am not someone to forget so I will be wearing the most outrageous outfit to my next appt. (think blinking lights and lots of perfume) and bringing Kate Gosselins bodyguard "Steve" with me so that I seem VERY important, after I have consumed Xanax and Tequila because I know how SWAMPED you and your staff are and this way ensuring that I will not be just another co-pay in your day.

See you Tuesday Mr. Surgeon guy
Nyn

Is this month over yet?

I need November to be put in the history books. I declared it over weeks ago but Thanksgiving didn't get the message. Being me is a difficult thing to manage because most people either love what they already have or hate their life and want what they don't have. I am so happy for what I have and so bitchy about what I don't. hmmm

It has been a tough month physically and I still won't have answers for a few more weeks which has kept me in the house alot. I get myself to the point of being jealous of people who are out in the world even though I adore my family and the things around me also knowing that when I do go out I just end up wishing I was at home being comfy and enjoying my familiar crazy circle of family.

So today I decided to go out shopping for alittle bit. Just me. Some Nyn time to mingle among the 'Normals' for a bit. I was listening ( aka. eavesdropping) as I was looking at lotions and then I hear this man say to his wife "What is body butter?" and then she says " you put it on and lick it". OMG this is why I like my life because maybe if I was in another healthier body these are the morons that would be in my life. So while that idiot is at home licking chemicals off of her skin trying to get the taste of vanilla I am here listening to my normal people yelling for the Steelers and eating Creme brulee that MK made. Well it's my normal anyway.

Here's to December.... I may or may not leave the house.
Nyn

Scams...and why they work

My daughter Caity loves pigs, all things pigs. She has slept with her "Mr. Pig" stuffed animal since she was little. She collects pigs. Her screen saver is...pigs. I'm not sure why since we don't live on a farm and are not big animal people but she adores them.

She has always wanted one as a pet which would never happen in this house so I always assumed when I visit her as an adult I would have to be nice to a large pot bellied pig if I wanted through the door but I guess pig people have found a way to try to make this happen sooner.

Caity found out they now make designer micro pigs. They are called tea cup pigs and are now the rage (along with a rage price tag) and she has made it her mission to have one.

This brings me to the scam. A man from the "UK" emailed her and said he would send her one for "free" if she just paid him...shipping. OMG she was so excited thinking she had hit the perverbial jackpot! The emails were flying back and forth as I tried to explain to her that there was no pig and this man just wants her money. She said "but mom he even sent me pics". I am positive if not for her father and I a man in the UK would be six hundred dollars richer.

Scams work because people want to believe and I know of one 16yr. old who still believes and just thinks her mom is a wet blanket. I just hope while I am writing this that Caity isn't out getting a money order.

Oh and if you will just send me 600 dollars I will tell you how to stop a scam from happening to your daughter :)
Nyn

If it gets you through

I tend to surround myself with people who make light of horrible situations. We make fun of tragedies and can do that because we make fun of our own and if you haven't tried it, well, I assure you it works.

After I and my children had been hit broadside and nearly killed by a semi truck I really couldn't see myself ever laughing again and there was always somber people stopping by reminding me how bad things were and then one day alot of us were in the kitchen (with wheelchairs everywhere) and MK turned and said "How the hell could you not see a semi coming at you, I mean, it wasn't a motorcycle!" and right then it was funny I mean so funny except to the stick in the muds that had no funny bones in them. So from then on thats the way it has been with everything. It gets us through.

My best friend thought she had breast cancer a few years ago and was waiting for her results and crying when I finally said "Look will this mean that I have to get a bracelet and wear pink shirts every damn day beacause this is annoying me already". We laughed and thank God she didn't have it but did tell me if she did have it she was planning on sending me a shirt the next day. It got us through.

The past few months have been really hard emotionally on me and then finding the softball size abcess that was pushing on my kidney and making swallowing food feel like shards of glass had me standing on the ledge. Every day the BFF calls or texts with encouragement but the tears wouldn't stop and then I get a text fron her last night that I assumed was going to ask me how I was...no...it said...."Do you need a kidney? Are you just afraid to ask me? It is not a very good one. Kinda used but you can have it. Get back to me on that." and I laughed because I wasn't expecting the warped sense of humor at that moment. God I love these people. Thats how we get through.

I have been informed by many that my daughter has the same sense of humor, infact much worse. Has she been corrupted? Nope.....I will always know that she can get through anything.
Nyn
PS.. I have known the BFF since I was born and have seen how that kidney has been treated...she can keep it.

I swear it was a MIRACLE!!

After my last post on Anemia which was after my Hysterectomy you would think the medical Gods were done screwing with me but that would be to easy.
Apparently a huge abcess the size of a softball grew were my uterus used to be. I was in the hospital...which I am so over. They did horrible things to my body...which I am so over. Now I am home trying to get better...which my family is so over. But. that. is not what I am here to tell you about.

So I am sitting on the couch tonight trying to figure out again why the universe is out to get me as usual. Oh I should have told you before I started this that I am addicted to "Soft Lips". There isn't anything better and I have them everywhere so I don't have a breakdown. Anyway I look over at the end table and I bumped my Soft Lips tube and WATCHED it roll off onto the floor. Dilema. Big Dilema because trust me without the gory details that I can't bend over and pick it up so now I am faced with having to ask the 16yr. old to get it and she just likes messing with me or asking MK to do like the 2000th thing for me in 10 minutes.

I am not joking I stressed over this for about 15 minutes while pretending to watch tv. So then. Right when I was about to scream for Soft Lips help I glance at the end table and... THERE IT WAS! ON THE TABLE! I freak out and tell Mk and Caity that a miracle has been performed for me to which they reply that I can't remember what the hell I had for breakfast let alone when the Soft Lips tube fell. Whatever. I am now convinced that the tube of Soft Lips miracle was letting me know that I am completely cured and that when I go for my next cat scan this week it will all be revealed. Your with me right?

I was going to call the Pope but I am not Catholic so I am not sure if this counts plus I will wait until after my tests but I am worried that I won't be able to share this with the world because I heard Mk and Caity making plans of their own to make a few calls and...have me put in a quiet place for awhile so I'm not sure how this week will go. Damn 50/50.
Nyn

Oh... That helps you live ?

I am announcing this as the week of Anemia. I am not sure if a single person can name a week but I just did.

About 2 weeks ago I started feeling like the surgery pain was getting better but my body was getting worse. I couldn't stay awake and when I was I wanted to be sleeping. Then really bad things happened to the point that my legs were in soooo much pain and then they started buckling when I would walk. Not only couldn't I concentrate but when I moved it felt like my body moved... and then my soul and every cell I have moved a second later. That feeling is...there are no words.

I waited way to long to head to Doctor man all in the name of "This to shall pass". He ran some blood tests and I was depleted of Iron. I have always been alittle low but never really thought about it and then I lost alot of blood in surgery and let me tell you that I NEVER want to feel like that again. When I walked into the Doctor's he said "you look awful". I was so washed out looking instead of my...cute normal self.

So I started taking 2 Iron pills a day and after researching this on the computer trust me 2 is alot. Oh and who knew that Iron is what carries OXYGEN through your body? It's KIND of important so someone should have filled me in on this sooner. I mean...people DIE from this. Ok I need to stop since I am stressing out over it again as you can tell from all of the capitolized words.

Please get your Iron checked. If your tired, if your legs hurt or maybe you like having people draw your blood. Which is fine. I don't judge.

I am feeling somewhat better already but no where near 100%. My legs feel better (Go Oxygen!) I still don't have an appetite but being a woman...thats the one thing I'm not complaining about.
Nyn

50/50 Just Never Stops

The last week or so I have not felt well. I thought the surgery was so easy buy it looks like it kicked my butt big time. Anyway so I was pretty immuned to everything. Nothing was really getting me mad or getting me emotional. Life were just kind of going on around me while I just wanted some life breathed back into me... until Friday night.

Mk takes me out for dinner that evening to get me out of the house and among the living. We drove over an hour to our favorite Italian place so I wasn't even feeling on top of my game when we got there. Oh and for the first time since surgery I had on real pants with a button and a zipper (which by the way is overated I have decided). So on the way home the pants were bothering my incisions so I unbuttoned and unzipped...I can't believe I am about to tell you what happened next.

We stopped at a WaWa for something, the place was packed...here it comes. I got out of the car and stepped onto the sidewalk and MY PANTS FELL TO THE GROUND. Yes you heard me I was standing there in front of all these people on a Friday night with my pants around my ankles wearing a shirt and black underwear thank you. The worst part is that I froze for a minute so there was nothing quick about covering up. I knew at that point 50/50 will always be with me so what the hell, I held my head up and did the walk of shame inside the store. I give up trying. I quit. Mk as usual shaking his head and know a couple times a day he drops his pants at home just to be funny. yeah funny Mk, my life sucks.

Kate Gosslin was there in the afternoon and the papparazi was in tow so I guess...it maybe could have been worse had People magazine snapped a few shots of me.

So how was YOUR weekend?
Nyn

I want to sleep with Charlotte...

So I get the news from Doctor Holly yesterday that I can venture out in public alittle more, you know the whole "take it easy thing". Problem is...clothing.

I have been in my somewhat insane head lately coming up with what my perfect wardrobe would look like. Now all I need is a robe company that will listen (and never steal this idea because I will send my little nephews Ty, Chase and Brock after you and, well, you don't want that). So after some thought...

My favorite robe is that light, comfy, alittle fuzzy, feels like I am being hugged by what I can only imagine is heaven. The tag on it says "Charlotte". The thing is with the pain I live with I can't wear anything that feels heavy or I hurt. I can't wear a bra or I hurt for days. Point being "Charlotte" makes me happy so why do I have to torture myself to look good when I pass by YOU on the street? You aren't going to make me tea later or sleep with me or buy me diamonds. Although if you do I would like a Chocolate diamond, please. I am dying for one of those.

So "Charlotte Co." I need the following...Pants and a tunic top in pink. The top longer with pockets at the bottom and skinny pants cuz I hear I have great legs. Oh and make the top V-neck for my boobs, they look better in V-necks.
A grey hoodie with sweats for going to the store or to visit the nephews (I am watching you).
And for going out with Mk I need a black dress in this material (I am getting excited just writing this).

I promise you, the public, that I will look presentable. I will put on cute shoes. I will put on jewelry. I will even put on slutty, hooker boots to wear with the dress. I will be fun and outgoing. Less bitchy (heres hoping)and I will be a willing part of society.

Then, I will come home from my night out with Mk, take off the hooker boots and the jewlrey and be able to just GET INTO BED because I am already wearing jammie clothes. OMG I have helped to fix the Chronic Pain world just alittle. "Charlotte" this is a win win. Call me so we can start sketching and then when you are rich because of me you can buy me a Chocolate diamond.

Nyn

My September 11 pledge... to write notes

In May 2001 Mk and I celebrated our anniversary in NYC. Mk was surprising me and taking me to brunch at the top of the World Trade Center. I was dining at Windows On The World. I remember stepping off the elevator thinking how incredible the view was and that was just the beginning.

My family knew Mk was taking me there so my mom had called ahead and ordered a special bottle of Champagne for us (I know she's a treat, right?). The team at WOTW then had taken it upon themselves to give us a special table at one of the single windows by ourselves. I remember that the building swayed as we sat there and they explained it was built that way to withstand the weather.

The brunch buffet was beyond delightful and they gave me the cork to our bottle to remember them by. Of all the places I have eaten and God knows I love to eat and search out great Mango Margaritas :) I can remember their faces and how special it was to be there. Not just because of the building but the incredible people and their kindness by making it so special for me.

I meant to write a note to them and let them know what a special group of people they were. But I didn't. I told everyone about them but I never personally let them know that they made my day. The towers fell and I am sure it was those people who perished that morning a few months later since that would have been their shift.

So on this day my pledge is from now on to let people know with a note that they have touched my heart and given me a day to remember.I just wish I would have done it sooner.
Nyn

Rules are not my forte

I have a problem with rules. Always have. Not the top ten ones of course, I wouldn't kill anyone, I don't do drugs, never been to jail (close...)love my kids etc. It's the stupid ones, the run with scissors kind of rules. Just because someone writes something down doesn't mean we are going to hell if we don't comply.

I smoke. I like to smoke. I don't blow smoke in childrens faces, I have never smoked in a bleacher seat at an outside game even when it was allowed and I can tell you my health baggage is from being hit by a jackass of a truck driver carrying 110,000 lbs. of scrap steel. Oh, and I believe that MK pushing my broken body outside of the hospital to have a smoke may have saved my life...work with me here. Big picture, smoking wasn't trying to kill me, the truck was.

So, day two after hysterectomy I am being good and receiving the best care I ever have and I thanked them for that. I asked the nurse if she would push me outside to have a cig. You would have thought I was holding the button to blow up the world and I am pretty sure alarms started going off. To make it short she said no. Hmmm, ok, I stayed calm and said when MK got there I would have him push me outside. Then came the rath of strangers who "know whats good for me".

Mk gets there and Nurse Ratchett says I am not allowed to go outside. What?? did she just say I am NOT ALLOWED??? Hospital, Prison, same thing. Then she says she will not get us a wheel chair so I start shuffling my robe and slippers towards the elevator when Ratchett with a crazed look in her eyes runs down the hall and says..." If you leave this floor you can't come back" Crap. Now I have to make a decision, a judgement call while I am on pain killers. Right then it wasn't about smoking anymore it was about rules and about if it was my last day on earth they would let me go out but since it wasn't, I was grounded.

So I left. They said since I was leaving without permission I couldn't have a prescription, or a wheel chair. I had to walk to the car. Fine so I walked. With Mk shaking his head and me knowing I was going to have to tell my mother what I did which is never fun.

I hope that part of me never changes. It's who I am. An American. I am thankful that I don't have to be flogged for wearing pants in public and I am thankful that I can leave the house without a mans permission and... I plan on keeping it that way. Taking my 50/50 chances.

Nyn

Pink Robes and Bear Paws

First off I will tell you that my Hysterectomy is a walk in the park compared to the pain I live with every day. It went great and I am feeling well.

Mk and I were leaving the house alittle after 6am so I decided on just wearing my new pink robe (with polka dots) and flip flops. Am I the first person to come up with this? We walked into the waiting room and everyone was dressed and kept staring at me. What would be the point of getting dressed when someone is about to slice you open plus you can't wear make-up so why would I have jeans on??? Then the nurses that were prepping me for surgery really laughed out loud that I had worn my robe to the hospital. So I am the trendsetter. I did it. Wear your robe to the hospital and hold your head up high.

Then Miss Cheery nurse tells me I have been picked for a one day trial to wear this new kind of gown into surgery called Bear Paw robe. You know how the operating room is freaking freezing cold??? Well this thing has a layer of bubble tubes that run through it then they hook up this tube to the robe that blows....wait for it...WARM AIR all through it! It was absolute heaven and it keeps your body temperature from falling during surgery. From a patients point of view I truly believe it helped me and I felt fabulous in the recovery room. Have you ever heard the word fabulous in the same sentence with recovery room? I thought not. So go Bear Paw robes and feel free to put me on a commercial.

So here I am a week later having strolled slowly around the block today and showered like a real person but I am tired and need to wrap this up. Although I wish I had some energy left because I didn't get to tell you about day two. Suffice to say that instead of being "released" I got....kicked out of the hospital.... I'll tell you about it tomorrow. In the meantime just picture MK shaking his head at me which seems to happen alot in our relationship.

A bit serious , this one

Just a few thoughts on some recent passings. I was going to let it go and not comment but I am one to put it out there and let the chips fall. So here we go.

As I look on the computer or turn on the tv this week there has been just as much coverage on DJ am as Ted Kennedy. Then Mar called me to tell me someone I went to school with died of a drug overdose. Got me to thinking...about how I don't attend funerals of people who committed suicide or overdose. Nothing pisses me off more than putting my 2 feet on the ground every morning and trying to make it through another day, while some people just...opt out. Screw them.

I have lived in constant, at times freaking unbearable pain that makes me question the universe. The thing about chronic pain is that it isn't a disease. I will never die from this, I just can NEVER get better either.

I saw the picture of DJ am's girlfriend leaving his apartment Friday night having a breakdown. That is what suicide and overdoses do to loved ones forever. It is selfish beyond measure. In the past couple of months in my town, someone I know who lost all of his money shot himself leaving a 9 year old devastated, as well as a 16 year olds step mother who walked in front of a semi because she had enough. Oh, YOU had enough? The people who have had enough should be the ones trying to get your families through this mess.

So yesterday I watched some of Kennedy's funeral, not because of political reasons but because Ted said at his brother Bobby's funeral after all that family had been through "We carry on because...we have to". Preach it Ted preach it. No one found crack beside him while he was battling brain cancer, which had to suck by the way.

Ok, I am done ranting, now go hug your kids, just take the Meds you need ( and I need plenty) find something to smile about...and carry on.

Mar is taking your flowers but you don't mind

What started out as cute is starting to worry me. My biggest fear is that she will find the White House garden becoming and start digging up shrubs planted by Jackie O.

Mar (aka mom) has this thing with thinking that all flowers in the world are free and meant to be shared. No really, I mean the ones in your front yard that you think kids are stealing. I swear to you she keeps the supplies needed in her trunk for this. She digs up flowers from restaurants, hotels, yards etc... Mar, just so you know would never steal a thing and she is also a successful business owner that can buy any flowers/shrubs that she wants. She just chooses the ones you planted that catch her eye. Like it is a compliment to you on your taste... or Melania Trumps taste.

So, last week I asked my son to clean up my front lawn, just make it look better. Adam, in all his lack of wisdom/caring gave it a military haircut, down to the dirt, everything...gone. We'll get to his downfalls soon. Anyway, so Mar comes over and I swear to God she looked at my next door neighbors gorgeous lush flowers and said "Why don't you transplant some of their flowers to your yard"!!!! She said "Their Mums are so pretty" and "Look at that Lavender bush". I had to think quick and turn her attention to the Mint bushes in my backyard she has been eyeing.

She is truly fine with this, I just am not sure if charges can ever be brought against her. It would be awkward, especially if she decides the Rose bushes outside of the courthouse would look great around her patio. I need to call a landscaper quick...and hope the snow starts falling before Mar becomes our towns Martha Stewart behind bars.

Trying to channel Paula Dean

I have come to believe that if I had Paula's cookware this whole baking thing would be easier. That somehow her magic would flow through the teflon and save my ass.Last night I tried...I mean really tried to bake a cake from scratch. I even envisioned sending the picture to Paula in hopes of being invited to her compound and ending up BFF's. Whatever.
I found a recipe on "The Pioneers woman" blog (love her to by the way) and gathered up all the high caloric sugars I could find and went to work. This is a photo of how her first layer looked as well as how my first NOT layer looked.


I did everything EXACTLY as I was ordered to. Well, I did need a few breaks in between, but then they aren't collecting SSI checks either. Anyway, after MK tried to assure me that it was delicious as well as how cute I am when I try to pretend I am related to Paula. I am now left with only another bad memory of the kitchen. The good news is I have plenty of sugar and flour...to try again.
Just as soon as I can get ahold of Paula's cookware.

Where is my Xanax

So I was really feeling upbeat that I was having a pre surgery meeting with the team that will be in the room of horrors with me next week. I expected to leave with a feeling of peace and assurance that it was all going to be under control.

Instead I am feeling a one way ticket to Mexico, wearing big sunglasses and a wig in my future.

The first nurse in the room explaining her role to me seemed completely professional until Mr. Handsome, Lifetime special looking doctor came in and then she turned into a girl in first grade holding a paper saying "Do you love me, yes, or no". I mean she literally couldn't remember her password into the computer.

Then I went to have my blood taken by Miss Britney Spears wannabe. As the fire explosion went off in my arm, she giggled and said instead of getting into my vein she...rolled it with the needle. OMG I would have had a better chance with Bert and Ernie being in charge of my body.

Finally as my stress was at maximum level, a nurse told me that if I want to take a muscle relaxer before arriving at the hospital for surgery that would be fine. No, do ya think? I am heading for the Pharmacy... or Mexico, I haven't quite decided.

Burying bodies in the backyard

At a recent family party I was looking at everyone there and how there are roles we assume in life, how we got them, and why we keep them. I watched friends and extended family that also were there, seeing the big cosmic joke that we are even on the same planet let alone one backyard.

I have two brothers and although we have decided we would bury bodies for each other if needed (no bodies yet... whew) I noticed it's the same digs at each other being thrown, the ones that are funny with those underlying...tones. We don't fight, ever. It's one of those unwritten rules out of respect for my mom. That and the fact that if we ever did, well... our roles would be shattered.

I notice that the strong ones, are not strong, the weak are...not, the ones that assume the money roles should hand those badges over asap and the bitchiest ones have the best hearts. Then I wondered if all backyard gatherings play the same game.

I have cried over my role, I have wanted to set everyone straight and call them out more than once. Then I realized the reason I don't isn't because I am afraid, or because I don't have a backbone. The biggest reason is that I have seen the aftermath when loved ones decide to stop the label they have been given and how the dynamics of the backyard changes...right then. Forever

So, Before I turn that yard into an episode of "The Real Housewives" Of Atlanta...


I will remember all the times we laughed so hard at something no one else would find funny, or when I have been at the bottom of my soul needing help and those faces were there to pick me up. I hope when all of them look back, my(cute)face is included in their mental images. I raise my glass to all of them, every face around me has impacted my life. They have made me stronger and wiser, and brought infinite amounts of joy to my life, laced with enough ammo to give a shrink a bestseller.

So as I was getting ready to leave and my brother got his final shot in to get my blood pressure up I looked around and just thought...Touche, nicely played. I left there with my role in life still intact knowing as pissed as I was thats the backyard where I belong and if that means burying a body for one of them tonight...I'm in.

I Do NOT want my Soul Rested

It's been bothering me all day, the whole "God rest your soul" thing. Since I have convinced myself that I will most likely die from my upcoming surgery, I am covering all the bases. Really...I don't want my soul rested. I want rid of this damn 24 hour pain I live with, but my soul has things to do.

Who in the hell wants their soul "resting" for eternity? I want to see everything that I haven't seen. I want to be really good at things I'm not now. I don't know, things like tennis, black flips, you get the point. I want to see my extended family. I have people I need to apologize to and certain people I need to punch in the face. I have people, lots of people, that I need to ask questions of. So you see, when I die, I'll be on a "need to know" basis.

There are certain souls that I am counting on tracking down. In very random order: Nicole Brown Simpson, WTF happened that night? Have you haunted him since? But more important, would you marry him again? Its been said that if we did things differently then we wouldn't have the children we have. Chandra Levy, I still am not convinced who the guilty party is, so I will need to know. Anna Nicole, I am not blaming anyone except for her whole upbringing but I think she had no direction to start with and if anyone needed it, she did...we'll talk. This list will be expanded in future posts, I am sure.

And since I am on a roll, for the love of God, religion. I will start with whoever the jackass was that started the Amish sect. Who made gajillions (my word) of people think that if God created this beautiful place that you aren't allowed to see it? I mean have you ever seen the Amish at the beach? Does thou think not? I happen to believe that a wonderful God did create all of this for us to enjoy freely...I know since I have almost had my life taken in the blink of an eye. I know we take ourselves, and all these man made "rules" way beyond crazy. Settle down and be nice. Have a glass of wine.

So finally, after I talk to God, Anna Nicole, ask my Grandparents questions and see people I know that passed way to soon, I still don't want to rest. I want to be Bohemian like and, okay, alittle rested... and hopefully I'll haunt a few in the afterlife. Look me up when you get there.

Think the worst...

... or be positive? I can never get that right. Always the people on one side say if you brace for the worst it's never that bad. Then you have "The Secret" followers with all their think positive thoughts and good things will come. After 43 years I can say I have tried it all and which ever I do... well, I am screwed.

I am having surgery on September 1st. A hysterectomy. I know, right? Anyway, I am mentally freaking out over it. I can't decide which frame of mind to go with. I have read about the worst case scenarios as well as the about a woman who played golf the following week. I have this feeling... I don't like her.

I also read that heating pads help. Really? Heat? I need to check this out. I also need to see if maybe someone can get ahold of Propofol-that Michael Jackson sleep thing. Although I WOULD need to be monitered a tad closer, I believe.

So you see my problem here. I am reading books on positive thinking and yet my thoughts turn to...Propofol and large quantities of feel good pills. Oh, and why haven't I done Yoga or exercised more.. It's going to be like this until September first. Plus, I live with a 16 year old, who says she may or may not make me beg for food while I lay in bed. Crap. I AM screwed.

Time to talk..Health Care

I'm sure your blood pressure is up before even reading further on, this topic seems to have that effect on people. Relax, no really, RELAX, I am not going to spew statistics at you or even call this a Democratic or Republican debate. It isn't. My political party has nothing to do with how I think about my health nor should it you. It's about getting the best care I can. Here's my take, period.

I was a productive member of society living just like you when I was in an accident two weeks after I turned 30. I continued to work once I healed enough although the pain never left me. As I turned 40, injuries from the accident got worse requiring surgery that left me unable to work. I have been on Social Security and Medicare ever since. Mk found a good managed care Medicare Supplement plan for me so I still have my family doctor and have not been denied any health care, ever. Knowing I can count on them to manage my health concerns and the medicines I need is a life saver considering the money I have lost from being unable to work.

My point is this; I keep hearing people say they will take care of paying for it themselves because they are hard working people. Well hard working people, try telling that to me when in a split second you(or your kids, your sister or brother) are unable to work for the rest of your life.

I wouldn't care who was in office at this point-knowing that if something should prevent my children from having care or buying medicine a plan would be in place for them, then I am all for it. And do I think people in power will kill me when I am old? I doubt it and if they do...well, I am hoping they will at least pay for the drugs to do it.

Sunday with Mom

My mom, from here on in referred to as "Mar", and I spent Sunday at a Mind, Body, and Spirit expo in York, Pa. Mar's friend owns a Spa and the two of them are eccentric to say the least, so this is nothing new for us. I have also inherited the eccentric gene so you can often find us driving with the top down singing and laughing, but I should return to the topic at hand.

I decided to take this day and study people to see what attracts such a large crowd. They were from all walks of life, religions,and ages, as well as plenty of men on hand. The vendors were also diverse, from Phd's and Doctors, as well as unbelievable energy that I was drawn to, but also the booths you could tell were just trying to make a buck, you know, those bad Karma people..

At the end of the day, after I had laid on an "ion" heat mat, had a mud pack, had my Taro cards read, and soaked it all up, I realized when I left that I was more un-stressed then I could I remember being, and I was smiling. I knew that no matter what people intend to get out of it, when we leave, we all feel the same. We have hope, and had fellowship, and we pray that the tea we just bought that will help us lose weight actually works since it has that good Karma and all.

Or just maybe after we left and had dinner at a superb Italian place, and then sat there talking and figuring out the universe, my day had really been to spend it with my mom. I'm sure my "guides" were as happy as I was.

What Our Daughters Become

Cait turned 16 last month, is learning to drive, and has now started her first job. As I sit reflecting on how she got here, and trying to figure out what she will be, I realize it's anyone's guess.

Her at 5, in the pouring rain, waiting for the bus, holding her unopened umbrella to her side, as she informed me...it was ugly. So your first thought is she is determined and tough. This is the same girl that Christmas eve, I found crying in her room. When I asked what could possibly be wrong, she replied " I just hope everyone has a nice Christmas." hmmmm, quite the sensitive one.

For the last year or so, she has been hell bent on how she is going to join the Peace Core. She is taking International Studies in school this year, and her favorite book is about Rowanda. Maybe I am not giving enough credit here, but I am wondering how the girl that has a fridge in her room, and sleeps holding a stuffed pig, is going to irrigate Africa.

Watching her, as I picked her up from her first day of work, when she came out she walked different. More confident, more grown up. So then I was feeling like maybe she could conquer the world and I was being to hard on my little Cait. Just when I imagined Africa was close to getting the angel that could make a huge impact, she came downstairs before bed to get ice for her wrist. Thats right, she said something terrible had happened to her arm from opening boxes (her shift at Osh Kosh was 4 hours) Oh, and then I remembered she called me on her way out of the building because the hallway she was coming down was dark, and needed my voice on the phone.

So if it's between saving the world, or spending her life ordering off of Amazon while holding her pig. I am going with 50/50. The apple doesn't fall far.

How Hard Can Cooking Be?

I know people joke about not being able to cook, but this is serious.
I have blue ribbons from when I was much younger, and made it to Nationals with some chocolate thing. It ended there. Something happened. I must have had fast food for so long, being single, that I forgot how. It's not like riding a bike and it all comes back to you.

Mk says the first time he looked in my fridge, it was a party of fast food bags, and some spoiled milk. Thank God for that winning personality of mine that won him over! So the thing is, MK cooks. He loves to cook, which is more than a plus for me, but I still try my hand sometimes, sadly enough.

I am a one pot cooker. I get very stressed when more than one burner is going. The first time I cooked for him, I put all of the meal in one skillet, and then the 50/50 factor took over. The glass lid exploded all over the kitchen. Over the years, I have had pots of oil boil over trying to deep fry. I have had the oven lock up on me, while trying to broil steaks, and not let me in for an hour. I have thrown away griddles that couldn't be cleaned after attempting bacon appetizers. I refuse to give up even after the deep fried Twinkie fiasco. I'll leave that one to your imagination.

So in my latest quest for culinary recognition, I have decided to try cakes, not just any cakes, because go big or go home right? The thing is, I joined an online group for International designer cake bakers, so I get emails from them. I feel like a winner reading their emails, but... I haven't tried it yet. I will let you know when the first one is attempted. Or you will hear about it on the news. Either way, I think I am ready for fondant, and I'm feeling the blue ribbon coming my way.
I like to think I can make the cake thing work. Infact, in my mind, it's perfect. But just incase the 50/50 factor rears it's ugly head, I am also looking into joining the International Bobsledding team group online... Just incase I need a backup. How bad could I be at Bobsledding, right?

The Nyn 50/50 Factor

Nyn came about when my brother Dean was little and couldn't say "Caryn". The Freudian part is that my dad, who I am not close with, to say the least, still calls me Nyn. So if you see him, let him know I am looking into therapy to work on this. Thanks.

The 50/50 part is what Mk has coined as my life odds. From the mundane, to the catastrophic, to the most fabulous things you can think of. Any chance, any odds to be had or bet on, if you are referring to me..Go with 50/50. I promise.

Just a few examples to start, so you understand what I am up against. I want to cook, God knows I try. But it doesn't just go somewhat bad, I swear, my oven locks up on me,with the food in it, so I can't even get in.

I didn't just get hit by a car, My 2 children and I were slammed into by a semi, carrying 100,000 lbs. of scrap steel ( I know, right?) but we lived and for that, I am forever grateful. I just now call Social Security my full time job, and believe me, you wouldn't want it.

I also had the pleasure and was lucky enough to have a private meeting with Deepak Chopra. Anyway, here's the 50/50 factor, My mom had bought the tickets for us, generous as she is, and I ended up arguing with him. I said it. I argued with Deepak, like I have any business debating anything with the man. Not to mention the fact that I adore him.

Point being, I go to bed every night beside MK, the caring, generous, oh so sexy,rock of my life, MK. Having the luck of knowing two of the greatest people, my kids. And thinking tomorrow will be better. Problem is, as the next day progresses, the 50/50 factor takes over like clockwork. I am going to bed now...up against MK as close as I can get, knowing.....tomorrow will be great.