180 Degrees

I had quite the full weekend. I drove to DC on Friday night, slept on my sister's couch, and did the Walk for Lupus Now walk on Saturday morning. Mom walked with me and we had a really good time. Right now, I've raised a little over $700 and donations are still coming. I had quite the sense of accomplishment after we were done, and so did my legs. Whew! We stopped at Au Bon Pain before going back to my car and ate a muffin while sitting outside and watching people walk by. People watching in DC is always fun. We could've stayed all day, but I was exhausted and needed a nap before my godchild's birthday party that afternoon.

Kay's second birthday party was held at Gymboree. There were 8 small children playing, running, and jumping about, all the while screaming and laughing. Just watching them increased my level of exhaustion exponentially. Times like that make me thankful that I don't have small children. It was fun to watch them because inevitably, every 90 seconds one of them would do something that made me laugh, but I don't think I could've handled it if I had been responsible for one of them and would've had to actively participate in the organized chaos.

After the party, I went to Kay's mother's house (referred to in other posts as "my bestest sistahgurlfriend") and had a great meal and watched Kay open her presents. She had the biggest reaction to gifts of clothes. Quite funny.

I got back to my sister's a little after 9 p.m. and was too tired to make the two hour journey back to the Eastern Shore, so I slept on her couch for another night.

On Sunday, I had a work event to attend in St. Michaels. Before I could leave St. Michaels, my gas light came on, so I pulled into a High's Dairy Store to get some gas. When I got out of the car, I caught a glimpse of a very familiar face that was pumping gas at the pump in front of me. Two seconds later, I realized it was Donald Rumsfeld. (He, Dick Chaney, and other well known DC types own homes in St. Michaels.) I looked around for the Secret Service and quickly realized that he would not have a detail with him at this point. While checking out my surroundings, I noticed that everyone that was pumping gas was either wearing a suit or had on I-just-went-fishing clothes.

He saw the look of recognition in my face and looked away. In the minute that we were less than three yards apart, I came up with a cadre of things to say to him, none of which were kind, complementary, original, or appropriate so I let the opportunity slip away. He spilled some gas on the ground while replacing the pump, got back into the passenger's seat (the white Toyota SUV was being driven by a blond woman with dark sunglasses), and the truck pulled away.

When I shared this story with a friend of mine, she reminded me of an observation I made about four years ago when I was living in Baltimore.

My neighborhood grocery store was in a crack, prostitute, drunk, gang infested part of town. On one particular early Sunday morning, I drove the six blocks to the store and got stopped at one of the two traffic lights between my house and the store. It was during the summer, so my windows were down and since it was such a short ride, I hadn't turned on my radio. While sitting at this light, I looked over and saw a man in jeans and a big white t-shirt sitting on the front stoop of a house that was located next to a bar. The front of his shirt was covered with blood and there was blood coming from somewhere in his face. I'm not sure that he was aware of who or where he was. A woman that was walking down the sidewalk in a serpentine pattern while struggling to hold up her head and keep her balance, stopped in front of the man, looked him over and proclaimed, "I don't know whatchu did, but I betcha won't do that shit no mo'", and shuffled down the street. I wanted to laugh but was too scared.

Downtown Baltimore with drunk, high, and injured people on the street to St. Michaels with Donald Rumsfeld pumping gas. Boy, has my life changed.

No rant today. Just sharing. :)

I do this at least once a week.

Every Tuesday and Friday, I take a brief trip to LaLa Land. While there, I see myself completely stress free, having paid off all of my debt, sitting on the deck of my fabulous new house while watching Matilda run around in the fenced-in back yard and listening to the waves hit the shore. My family's debt is paid off and they are all living in houses they own and driving brand new cars of their choice. I'm planning trips to Egypt, London, Italy, and Greece. I have cute and comfortable shoes and matching purses for every occasion. I have a masseuse and hair dresser on call. I have a beautiful retirement account and so does my family. I have a wonderful non-profit that advocates for people in need. I have no worries.

Today is Tuesday. Megamillions Day.

Tonight's estimated jackpot is $105 million. The cash option is $63.5 million. Join me in LaLa Land today. What would you do if you won the Megamillions tonight?

Walk for Lupus Now

I was diagnosed with lupus on June 18, 2007. My search for a diagnosis began in 1999. I was pretty sure that I had lupus because my grandmother was diagnosed with it when I was in the second grade and her symptoms were similar to mine. My aunt also had similar symptoms, but she did not have a diagnosis. I visited many doctors, described my symptoms, and gave my family medical history, but because I didn't have enough of the symptoms and my blood work was either borderline or normal, no one would diagnose me. It didn't help that none of the doctors were ever able to see any of the symptoms I described. By the time I was able to get appointments, the symptoms would be gone and I would be feeling normal. I remember one of the first doctors I saw in New Jersey - he looked me straight in the face and said "there's nothing wrong with you". He told me stress was probably why I was feeling bad and that I should consider changing my line of work. He was so arrogant and mean in his tone. When I left there, he had me wondering if I had made the whole thing up. Maybe I was crazy or overworked or a hypochondriac.

Here's the small rant: Doctors should be careful how they talk to their patients. I left his office angry and confused - and worst of all, questioning what I knew to be true. Unacceptable!

Fast forward 12 years, five or six doctors, and many episodes of sickness or "flares" later. I had graduated from law school and was working as a law clerk for a judge. The first odd symptom was painfully swollen and itchy toes that would turn either bright red or purple. Then the exhaustion came down on me like buckets of molasses. Then my legs started to disagree with me. Within two weeks, I was walking with a cane. I was very hesitant to see a new doctor because I feared having the same experience as I had had so many times before, but walking with a cane was a scary new symptom, so I went to a rhuematologist. She prescribed prednisone. My body didn't like the dosage, and within two days, I was in the hospital. It was the best thing that could've happened to me.

After spending three days in the hospital, I was released with a pending appointment at Johns Hopkins. I saw a rhuematologist there that specializes in lupus. She was the most thorough doctor I had ever seen. She asked questions that no one else had ever asked me before. She made observations of my appearance that no one else had ever noticed. She put all of the pieces together and finally gave me the answer I had been waiting so long to hear. "I believe that you have lupus." The profound relief produced an awkward knowing smile. "You're taking this quite well", she said. All I could do was chuckle. I had known for about 12 years that I had lupus. I just needed someone learned to confirm it. Now that I had an "official" answer, I could get a course of treatment.

Little did I know that there are very few FDA approved treatments for lupus. The last drug was approved 50 years ago. (Read the bold and underline as another rant.)

Lupus is a chronic autoimmune disease that can damage any part of the body. It affects each person differently, which is one of the reasons why it is difficult to diagnose. Please visit The Lupus Foundation of America website to learn more.

This Saturday, I am doing the Walk for Lupus Now walk in Washington, DC. If you'd like to sponsor me, please visit my site here. Thanks.

Dreams?

On Facebook, Oprah has been asking about dreams one might have, but may need a little help to fulfill. She's looking to give a "Harpo Hook-up", as she calls it. When I first saw that, it made me pause. "A Harpo Hook-up?! What a fabulous opportunity! Ok, let me tell her my dream. Umm...ok. Let me read what other people wrote. Umm...ok. What is my dream?"

Here's the rant: "What is my dream"?! Oh no! When was it that I stopped dreaming? What happened in my life that doused that eternally optimistic, I can do anything in life I choose to do attitude?

Bills. Bills killed my dreams. Can't chase after your dreams when you're over $100,000 in debt and far from being able to meet your monthly obligations. I've done previous posts on my feelings about money, so I won't delve into it again here.

I do have dreams, I guess. I just squash them before they can blossom. "I'm too broke." "I'm too busy." "I'm too tired." "How could I ever make that happen in my situation." So sad.

So here it is - my list of dreams. Even writing this makes me nervous and I can't really explain why.

1. My biggest dream is to be able to pay ALL of my monthly obligations on time. Not being able to do that is such a stressor. I dream of winning the Megamillions so I can pay off all of my debt. I want to buy a house with a fenced in backyard so that my dog has a place to run unleashed.

2. I want to write a book that gets published by an established publishing house and I want the book to sell well.

3. I want to get married and be a mom.

4. I want to know the history of both branches of my family. My last name is Greek (I think) and my Mom's maiden name is pretty unique too. I've done some research and haven't been able to go back very far. I'd like some help.

5. I want to go to Greece and meet someone with the same last name as me. I think that would be a comical exchange.

6. I want to create a clothing line for dog walkers. See yesterday's post for more explanation.

7. I want to sing the national anthem at a ball game.

8. I'd like to be the driving force behind remaking the movie "The Wiz". A friend of mine and I have been talking about this for years! Would love to see it come to fruition.

9. I want to voice a Disney character.

10. I want to start a law firm that caters to people who fall between the cracks - those that make too much to qualify for the services of the Public Defender/Legal Aid, but not enough to hire a private attorney. My firm would focus on helping people maneuver systems , i.e. criminal justice, special education, Medicare & Medicaid, Social Security, etc. My firm would charge for complex services on a sliding scale and would give free services once a week.

That's it. It's out in the universe now. Let's see what happens.

Hot Weather Dilemma

I'm back!!!!!! I've been gone for quite awhile and there's no need (or time) to give all the reasons. But I have some things to say now and hopefully there's someone out there who will listen (and chuckle).


For the past couple of years, whenever the weather gets warm, I find myself in the same dilemma. My lightweight sweatpants don't have pockets and I have nowhere to keep my keys, phone, and poo bag while I walk my dog, Matilda.

Here's the rant: Why don't they make lightweight sweatpants with pockets in them?! I mean really, why is that such a hard thing to find? Do people not have a need to carry stuff on them in the spring and summer? The one pair that I've been able to find after looking high and low have a very shallow pocket on each side. My phone is much longer than the pocket is deep.

One day, when I hit the Megamillions, I'm gonna start an activewear clothing line that caters to the dog walker. Pockets for poo bags. Clips for keyrings. A special place for your phone. And a hidden pocket for treats. I'll call it "Tildy" and the signature color will be purple. I'll use Matilda's little paw print as the icon for the line. How fabulous. Sigh.

In the meantime, I'm still on the lookout for the perfect (strike that), right (strike that), ANY pair of lightweight sweatpants with appropriate pockets.