Can I park Here?

I never suggest you were a bad driver. I’m sure that mailbox totally served into your lane.
Unknown

Driving is often seen as a rite of passage and one way for a teen to feel less like a child and more like an adult. With driving comes an immense amount of responsibility, which seems irrelevant in time. I know when I first started driving, I was all about following every rule in the book; driving the exact speed limit, no more, no less; stopping at a stop sign for a full 5 seconds; and not listening or talking to anyone on my cell phone, even with hands-free capabilities.

Over time, I realized that most drivers, including my father, do not feel like the driving rules apply to them. Because of bemoaning aggravation with me going the exact speed limit, I started going five over because they said that was acceptable. I stopped waiting at the stop sign for 5 seconds and instead would stop, look both ways and be off. This was referred to as the California stop, which only made sense that I followed that rule living in California. I started to become more attached to my phone, especially when I started work. Every call was important and could not be missed. I lost sight that driving is not just about me but about everyone in the car with me and everyone around me on the road. One moment of distinction could mean anything from a few scratches on my vehicle to a traumatic accident that could end up on the news with several severely injured or dead.

I learned that driving when angry was never a good idea because the one time I did that in high school, I skidded on the road because I gassed the pedal a little too aggressively and spun the car around, ending up in the middle of the median facing the wrong way. I was terrified and thankful not to be hurt, and even more thankful no one else was involved. I was able to turn the car around, pull over to the side of the road, and call my parents to come to get me because I was in no mental shape to drive home.

In 2020, I ran over a motorcycle that slid in front of my car when the driver decided to race his friends on a main street and clipped the car behind me as he was attempting to go in the middle of the lane to pass them. I was shaken to my core when I heard a clunk as my car rode over a “bump.” I thought I had run over a body, killed the man, and could go to jail for the rest of my life. Thankfully, it was just the front wheel of the motorcycle. The man I was told decided to start wearing his helmet a few days earlier. He ended up in the hospital for a few days with a few broken bones and a few scratches; he was able to walk out of the hospital, but not without a hefty fine.

In 2021, My mom and I witnessed, from our rearview mirror, a man flying up in the air and landing mangled on the ground. He was riding his motorcycle without a helmet and decided to challenge the stop light to a duel. He lost. He ran the red light and hit a car pulling out of our gated community right into the middle of their front bumper. The man was noted later to have been going about 90 miles an hour on a 50-mile-an-hour road when he ran the light and hit the car. Whether it was the fault of the lady driving the car or not, I’m sure seeing him fly over the windshield and the bike into the window will haunt her forever.

A month ago, a man attempted to avoid the traffic and take a shortcut through my gated community; however, he forgot a 15-mile-an-hour speed limit was put in place for a reason. This man forgot that where there are homes, children occasionally ride bikes, roller skate, challenge each other to races, play soccer, etc.; all activities the street provides a better surface for. He forgot houses were also a major stable in gated communities. In his haste to show everyone he could get to his destination the fastest, he raised the stakes and decided a better speed limit was 35 miles an hour. He saw children playing soccer and slammed on his brakes; the children scrambled as fast as their little legs could take them. His car scrambled too. It ricocheted into and over the curb, slid sideways across the gravel landscape, back out and across the vacated soccer field street, through the side yard fence, and into the house. Yes, into the house, stopping next to the dining room table. Luckily the residents had just finished breakfast, and no one was hurt. The driver is now and will forever be known in our neighborhood as Bumper Bucking Carl. The driver had an Arizona Rodeo license plate with the name CARL.

Morals: 1) Always wear a helmet when on a motorcycle. 2) Obey the speed limits; they are there for a reason. 3) Always remember driving is not a video game and needs to be done with the utmost care and responsibility. 4) Don’t be Bumper Bucking Carl.

Abused Children and The Human Capital Nightmare: Fighting the Trend

Let your actions be louder than your words and your dreams bigger than your fears.
Invajy

cap2final-1-3 Download

This blog is a bit different from my last one. I recently found the capstone I wrote for my Masters. As it is still relevant today, I decided to share it. All you have to do is click on the document and scroll down to read the entire content.

Moral: Never stop caring; Even the smallest of actions make a difference.

I Spy With My Little Eye…

I Spy with my little eye a great story.
John Green

Everyone’s favorite leisure activity – working around the house. Unfortunately, no matter how big or small the project, it never seems to go as smoothly as anticipated. It’s like hitting the light switch, the bulb pops, and the closet is dark. No Problemo, you think, it will just take a moment to fix. Then you look all over for the bulbs, and not finding any, you head off to the store. You get to the checkout and realize you left your wallet in your other purse, so you head back home to get it. An hour later, your two-minute ‘No Problemo’ is finished. Our most recent family project consisted of trying to decipher what was causing the water stain in the living room ceiling. Luckily, the water never dripped on the living room floor; but there was an ugly 3’ discoloration on the ceiling drywall.

First: The initial diagnosis was that the water must come from the second-floor laundry room. Since the washer had not overflowed and there was no sign of water on the floor or stains on the walls, the water to the washer had been turned off for two months at the first sighting of the staining without further damage, it must be the washer’s drain line. So, for two months while we used the washer and dryer in the main floor laundry set up, we plotted out the anticipated steps to cut open the ceiling under the drain, fix either the elbow where the drain turns to head toward the main drain or a crack or nail hole in the drainpipe. Then cut out and repair the stained section at a drywall joint about 4 feet from the drain. Easy peasy.

Since it was going to take a few days to cut, repair, replace, texture, and paint, the furniture in the living room needed to be moved to make room for the scaffolding to be set up to reach the ten-foot ceiling. Not moved willy nilly, but moved so that half of the room could be plastic wrapped to keep the drywall dust confined and, at the same time, we could watch the Suns games in between reruns of the Gilmore Girls.

Then the fun began: A 16” by 16” hole was cut into the ceiling where the drain was plotted to be. Luckily, it was right there. We ran a few loads of wash through the wringer but did not find any drain pipes leaking. No loose elbows, cracks, or nail holes with water dripping or damping. So we cut a bigger hole so we could get a better view of the entire space between floors. Everyone climbed the ladder to get on the scaffolding and check for themselves. I had never seen so many disappointed faces when it was discovered there was no leak. Whatever caused the water damage seemed to have vanished. We had the worst rains in years the day before we punched the hole, we thought that could have been the problem, but nope. No recent damage was found.

Finally: After all of the plotting and planning, the only thing we hadn’t thought of was not finding anything to fix but what we tore up. Dad put bracing between the rafters so that he could just screw back in place the pieces of drywall he cut out. From my vantage point, it seemed to go quite smoothly. Unfortunately, due to the builder’s white paint no longer being produced, a trip to the hardware store was needed to get enough paint to paint the whole ceiling, not just the patched up area, and to buy tape and texture to hide the gaps and screws. Before my dad took off, my mom asked, “What is that light coming from the ceiling?” “I don’t remember it doing that before.”

My dad chuckled and said, “Honey, ceilings don’t glow.”

He again started to open the garage door to head out when my mom said, “I know that, but I think you should see this.”

He sighed and casually walked over to the living room, looked up and back down, and started to walk away when he immediately turned around again and chuckled, “Big Larry?” “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it; I left the flashlight in the ceiling.”

Thus, the unanticipated new project of removing the drywall jigsaw pieces so methodically put together to retrieve “Big Larry,” who was still shining brightly. I wonder how long it would have taken my dad to miss Big Larry and remember the last time he used it and then thought, “No, I couldn’t have left it sitting on the rafter next to the washer drain line shining North across the crawlspace. Nah”

Moral: 1.) Always check that all tools are accounted for before finishing a job. 2) It is true “the woman is always right.”

A Piece of Me

Sometimes you have to give yourself a pep talk like, “Hello you badass warrior, don’t be sad, you are doing great.”
Unknown

As promised a few blogs ago, I will tell you how I was able to keep the piece of my skull that my surgeon, Dr. Smith, cut out to implant an RNS device (Responsive Neurostimulation for Seizures). It all started many years ago; just kidding. When I was told that a piece of my skill bone would be cut out and not be replaced, I decided to get excited that I could keep it rather than have recurring nightmares that a part of me was finding a new life in a hospital dumpster. I started to think about different ways to display it, such as making it into a piece of jewelry, a finger skateboard, or an artistic display piece. At the end of a long consult, I forgot to ask the doctor if I could keep it, so I contacted the office the next day. Then I was told, “No, it’s a biohazard, and you probably can’t keep it.”

“But it’s my biohazard.” The response was a few chuckles. I hung up the phone in disbelief. I was not ready to give up the fight though. I asked a few more times and was told by various people that it was not likely that I would be able to keep the piece of my skull. However, on 1/25/2023, everything changed. When the doctor’s assistant pulled the curtain back to mark the right side of my head with his initials to ensure the right side of the skull was being cut out, I asked again about being able to keep the piece. He laughed and told me how it gets chiseled out, and there is really nothing to keep.

” So, you just throw it in the trash?”

“Yes,” he replied.

I turned and within inches of his serious expression, I made the biggest sad face an adult can make and spoke in a choking whisper, “So you will throw me in the trash.” He laughed and told me he would talk to my surgeon to see what they could do. I thanked him.

When surgery was over and they were rolling a groggy me into the recovery room, I heard the out-of-focus assistant say, “You can keep it.” I smiled and felt a calmness pass through me. When I was finally completely mindful, the nurses told me it would take a few days to clean and sterilize the bone and prepare paperwork for its return to the rightful owner. As promised, I picked it up from the doctor’s office a few days later. I could not believe it was the whole piece that was sawn out and not fragments as previously suggested.

I originally wanted to make the small slivers that I envisioned into earrings, but after holding the 2 ½ inch by ¾ inch slab of my skull bone, I realized the earrings were out of the question. As a result, I made it into a necklace. I figure there is no better conversation starter.

“What is that?”

“A piece of my skull.”

It will shorten the process of making new friends. You either find my whimsicalness charming or alarming. Either way, I have a unique story and want to remind myself of where I have been and how far I have come.

Moral: If you make the best of every moment; photos, songs, souvenirs, and possibly a bone necklace will remind you of those significant times.

Zoey’s New Adventure

And so the snuggles and treats begin.
Unknown

It has been two years since my beloved cat, Cutie, passed. I’m ready for a new four-legged friend. The family got involved with searching for the best indoor companion with a friendly personality and all indicators pointed toward a Ragamuffin. Since the breed was not available at any shelters in Arizona or California, the inquiries turned to breeders. At $1200 and you get what breeder chooses, we decided it was best to adopt another all-American kitten. Countless hours were spent online looking at kittens on adoptapet.com, and emails were sent out for more information. Finally, we decided to go to Lost Our Home in Tempe, AZ, to check out Zoey.

Lost Our Home is a nonprofit organization where pets are brought because the owners are sick, deceased, moving, abusive, or the animal was abandoned. The bottom line is that the domesticated animals have no humans to care for them due to unforeseen circumstances.

Zoey was one of the animals found in the streets along with her sister and dropped off at the shelter. Had we been 20 minutes earlier, we would have adopted Zoey and her sister, but alas, we were just a little too late.

When we arrived, Zoey was in her cage, resting from being spayed the day prior. When the cage door was open, I let her smell my hand and she immediately nuzzled against it. The shelter volunteers indicated that she was extremely shy, but easy to warm up once she feels comfortable. She let me pet her for a while but did not want to leave the cage to be held. In all fairness, who feels like getting up or running around and playing 24 hours after surgery. She seemed happy, content, and attentive with me petting her and I felt the same way.

After completing the adoption paperwork, it was time to let her check out her new forever home. At first, she was not a fan of being placed in the bubble backpack. She sprawled her legs apart the width of the backpack as we tried to set her in it, but once we got her legs together and her body into the bag, she immediately laid down and let me zip the backpack up. She meowed a few times in the car on the way home, but once I started to pet her, she began to purr and curl up inside the bag even more. Once we got home and the bag was opened, it took a few minutes before she jumped out and let me bring her to my room to look around.

She spent most of the first day behind a metal desk sign I had sitting on my dresser. She would step out for pets but go back behind my desk sign after 2 or 3 seconds. The next day she wasted no time getting the lay of the land. She continues to follow me around the house and purrs non-stop. She has met a few family members and a good friend of mine. It took a few minutes, but she would warm up to them and let them pet her. She enjoys watching television and playing video games with me on my iPad. We got a cat tree that I didn’t realize would take some engineering skills to put together, but we got it done in 2 hours flat. At first, she only played with the ball dangling from the second platform a few times during the night, but now she enjoys using it to look out the window and laugh at the drivers hitting the speed bump in front of our house. Her favorite spot is curled up on me, which I don’t mind as it gives me an excuse to stay put and not complete household chores my mother claims are mine.

What I am most impressed with is her ability to learn the house rules so quickly. We have not had issues with her scratching furniture because the few times she used the ottoman to stretch her paws out, we were able to say “No” or pick her up and put her on the scratching pad with no further issues. She is rarely on the kitchen chairs because we have told her “No,” and she has jumped down. She has yet to jump on my bathroom sink and ask for water like my other love, Cutie, did.

I am looking forward to the new adventures we will have together that include bike riding, walking around the neighborhood, and getting dressed up for Halloween and other cat holidays.

Moral: 1) Change can be a good thing. 2) Unconditional love is something to be cherished.

I now proclaim you…Staple Head

I had brain surgery but by all means tell me again how bad your day was because Starbucks messed up your order.
Tionne Watkins

All my life, I have heard, “It’s not brain surgery,” as a response to any complaint about a task I was trying to complete. Well, now I can say, “Hey, fella, I know brain surgery, do you?” I have had brain surgery, not once, but twice in the last month, which is life-changing. I have to say I love the 70-plus staples in my head. It adds a little bit of “badass” to my look. I might find a way to get them to keep them there. Just kidding, but in all seriousness, no one wants to have brain surgery or see someone you care about go thru it. I am lucky I had a great team of doctors, led by Kris Smith, M.D., a Neurosurgeon at Barrows Neurological Institute. He is also the director of the Stereotactic-Functional-Epilepsy Fellowship Program, the Hypothalamic Hamartoma Program, and the Normal Pressure Hydrocephalus Program. He also serves as co-director of neurosurgical oncology and radiology services, including Gamma Knife, CyberKnife, and Zap-X. So, I was in good hands to get Zapped. Oh, and he rides a bike to work. Also, my favorite is Dr. Vladimir Shvarts, a neurologist with the Epilepsy Program and the Director of Clinical Neurophysiology at Barrows, who has guided my team for the past few years. I am also grateful to be surrounded by the many family and friends sending healing vibes my way. It means a lot to know people care about you and you are not going thru this alone.

The surgery to place the RNS device in my head took about 3 hours. A silver dollar piece of the skull bone is drilled and sawed out for placement of the RNS. It is a small, curved microprocessor device glued to the skull bone. A set of wires the size of a hair is inserted through the brain tissue with the help of computer guidance to specific points in the hypothalamus. Those points were determined during my last stay when many wires were inserted into my brain tissue that tracked the source of my seizures. My new implant will monitor brain activity in the problem areas and, with the help of Artificial Intelligence over time, will be programmed to stop episodes before they happen. Every day I use a “wand,” or what I like to call an old-school-looking phone device, that I plug into a computer supplied by Neuropace to document my regional brain activities.

Once a week, I plug the laptop directly into our modem, and the information is sent to my doctor for review. If I feel or my family sees seizure activity, such as staring off into space, in that case, I move a powerful magnet over the RNS device, which flags the time and activity as something the doctors should investigate.

The RNS is used for patients over 18 who have been on more than two different drugs, and the seizures have not decreased. I have focal seizures, which means they occur in one point of my brain, and the RNS can easily trigger that spot when needed to stop them. Since my seizures are minor and typically happen at night, I don’t notice they occur unless I am tired the next day. The RNS is perfect for me because it can pick up on subtle changes and address them as needed. I can live my life and regain my memories due to fewer seizures.

Believe it or not, after brain surgery, I only spent one night in the hospital and was home the following day. For the most part, there hasn’t been a lot of pain, just more of a mild annoyance, as if my hair has been in a tight ponytail from time to time. I will go back in 11 years to have the battery in the RNS device changed during an outpatient procedure that should last no longer than 30 minutes. Other than having a card to avoid going thru metal detectors, there are no lasting side effects of the procedure.

I will save the story of how I got Dr. Smith’s medical team to save a piece of my skull bone for another day.

Moral:1) Be grateful for new beginnings. 2) You are not alone.

Resource: Neuropace.com

Here’s To Us!

“Every new day is a chance to change your life.”
Unknown

Like the rest, I have had times when I felt I could not compete with the “supermodels” of the world. I have doctor appointments where I am told my BMI makes me obese despite being a size 12.

However, in September 2022, my dad took me to my first Re-vitalize appointment. I know what you are thinking; “oh great, another ad to sell me my ideal image.” No, I am here to talk about my experience and gratitude to my dad for forcing me into this. My dad had heard one of his favorite sports radio announcers talking about Re-vitalize while on his way to yet “another meeting that could have been an email.” The announcer mentioned the favorite thing he liked most about his experience with Re-vitalize was the staff support and the valuable information he received about maintaining his weight loss. This was a step my dad was very interested in hearing about. He, like the rest of us, has always heard about losing weight but never about how to maintain weight loss. The announcer went on to see that Revitalize was more than a diet, but a different way of looking at the food one consumes. Yes, you can eat the food you love, but with some research and guidance, you can eat it in a way that actually helps your body.

After completing some research, my dad set up an appointment for the following week to learn more. While at the appointment, we learned about the program, which includes a bio scanner to track your individual body needs and much more. My dad and I looked at each other and decided we had nothing to lose, so why not go for it? We went home and told mom, and she immediately cleaned out the pantry and rid it of foods that would not be appropriate for the first few stages of the weight loss program. (We made some friends and family very happy the following day when we handed them the goods we were getting rid of.) We ordered oil-free hygiene products and locked the makeup drawer for 40 days.

The first 40 days of the program involve not having any oils, including those used in personal care products. I was given different minerals to take throughout the day. I was also told about the importance of drinking plenty of water, using pink salt to help hydrate the cells and staying away from starchy foods. The first 40 days are about eating 4-6 oz of protein and tons of veggies. We bought scales to weigh ourselves every day. I got my own, while my parents decided to share one. We even got a food scale. I checked in with a nutrition coach once a week, either in person or on the phone. The support provided was not something I thought would mean anything, but it was extremely comforting to know someone was there to answer any questions I had.

After 40 days, we were allowed to use oils and eat a few more foods we couldn’t before, like corn. We continued to use reset days if needed, which consisted of something as easy as eating apples throughout the day if weight was stagnant or gaining more than 2 pounds from the day before. Then they help set you up for success in the real world, so you don’t have to fear food. After following their simple lifestyle changes for over 150 days, I have lost 32 pounds and am now a size 10! My BMI no longer says I am obese, just overweight, but I will take it. The BMI doesn’t define me.

I learned since giving up gluten and eating more of a keto diet; I have had fewer migraines, had more energy, and slept better. I’m not saying you should go out and try this; I’m just telling you my story about how I have come to love myself more and started stepping out of my comfort zone. I even have cooked some now, which I would never have done before. I enjoy going for nightly walks, going to the gym with my dad a few days a week, and just knowing I did something good for myself.

Morals: 1) Love yourself. 2) Food is not the enemy. 3) Remember to eat those vegetables.

Becoming an Alien Lifeform

“Hope is the only thing stronger than fear.”
Suzanne Collins

Everyone has a story of humility, i.e., being humbled by our modest suffering when talking with someone who has genuinely suffered. ‘I stubbed my toe’ vs. ‘I had to cut my leg off with a pocket knife to escape the rock slide alive.’

While everyone may suffer setbacks, not everyone is fortunate to be surrounded by the love and support needed to endure those tough times. I have been extremely fortunate to have a support group that keeps growing. I honestly don’t know where I would be today without them.

Seven years ago, I was officially diagnosed with epilepsy, AKA Seizures. This means that my brain activity “becomes abnormal, causing seizures or periods of unusual behavior, sensations and sometimes loss of awareness.” (https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/epilepsy/symptoms-causes/syc-20350093)Six types of seizures range from having a blank stare (Absent seizures) to tonic-clonic seizures. These have been known as grand mals and are considered the most serious. Tonic-clonic seizures cause loss of consciousness, body twitching, and becoming stiff as a board. It can also cause the eye to roll back in someone’s head, foam at the mouth, loss of bladder control, and biting of the tongue. When I first heard the word seizure, I pictured someone shaking uncontrollably on the ground with no possible end in sight. However, since having seizures, I have since learned seizures have many sides.

My seizures started when I was in community college and was in the classroom unable to listen to the teacher as I felt I was underwater; unfortunately, after many tests, I was told, “Sorry, we have no idea what is wrong, good luck.” After many years and receiving great care from Barrows, I have learned that that episode at community college was a seizure. I have since had plenty more.

I had a grand mal six years ago, which started with me zoning out for a few minutes, then my body began convulsing and struggling while foam came out of my mouth, and I actually stopped breathing. I have not had one since. My mom had to pound on my chest while riding to the hospital. The next year, I got so infuriated my hands were clenched, and all my limbs started to shake uncontrollably. Luckily I was already lying on the floor. I remember the panic I felt because I was unsure how long it would last and if it would turn into anything else. I waited as long as I could before I tried to peep out, “help” and my mom and several other family members came running. It lasted for me about 20 minutes, but in reality, it was probably only 6. Since then, I have gone years before I wake up tired and have to sleep all day, which is an early indication that I possibly had a seizure the night prior. However, lately, I have had a few more during the day where I just stare off for a few seconds. They are easy to miss. The seizures are only noticed if someone is talking to me or I am talking and then ‘radio silence.’

As a result, I have been put on medication to manage the seizures, which does help but is not a lifelong solution. For now, my seizures are closed on the right side of my hippocampus, but over time they will spread out, making them harder to control. I have had many tests over the past six years to figure out possible triggers, where the seizures are coming from, and what to do to provide a better standard of living for myself. The doctors at Borrow’s St. Joseph completed MRIs, cognitive functioning exams, EKGs, and even a Watatata test (where they shut off part of the brain to determine what each side does). That is a test I recommend as it really helps get an insight into how one’s brain works and how far science has come.

The latest test was a bit more invasive (see photos above). The test was used to pinpoint where my seizures are activated. To complete the test, wires (leads) were drilled into my head ( 4 on the left and six on the right), and then those wires were wrapped up in gauze for safekeeping while they monitored my brain wave activity 24/7. I felt like a real-life Teletubby.

I had to spend a week in the hospital while the activity was reviewed to ensure that when I did have seizures, they were able to see where they came from and how they affected me, if at all. I was taken off of one of my seizure medications and significantly lowered on the other. I was up from 2 AM until 11 PM without naps for three days. I could not walk to the bathroom but instead had to hit a call button to have someone (man or woman) monitor me and hold my cord while I took one step towards the bedside commode and back into the bed. I even had a nurse slap my backside when she thought I was going to miss sitting on the commode when in fact, I was just being whimsical and backing up at an angle. We laughed really hard that night. I had a heart sticker on my tailbone to prevent bed sores that needed to be changed every three days. I laughed when after surgery, it was placed on my left butt cheek and not the tailbone. I asked who placed it there and was ensured it was not the doctors who operate on my brain “because they only do brain stuff.” I was later told it was probably placed where it was because of how they had me lying on the table. I also had to have my wrists restrained while I slept to ensure that the cords were not possibly touched when I had a seizure.

I was in the hospital having seizures, and I had seizures I did. I had one episode where I could not communicate, only making little noises indicating I needed help. It took every brain cell I had to tell the nurses my name. However, despite that seeming like it may have been a seizure, the data showed it was not. It was just my body acclimating to not being on my medications and being in a stressful situation. The next night I did have two small ones while I slept. My mom and I celebrated, thinking I was ready to be let go, but I was told I needed to have at least one or two more. Being the overachiever I am, I gave them 28 the following night. The nurses working that night did not need to go to the GYM for a week. They were running in and out of the room asking me questions such as: What is my name, where am I, what the name of an object was, and what does it do? They had me squeeze their hands and push and pull them away, as well as lift my knees and wiggle my toes. However, I only remember them coming in twice. I was told that my jaw was protruding, and when I would not answer the questions or I would only answer “No” no matter the question. When I came out of my seizure I was calmer and more willing to answer the questions and would start to look at the person asking the questions before I would only look straight ahead and not make eye contact.

As stated earlier, I have dealt with seizures for a while, but I learned that my blood sugars could rise when I have them. I was able to find out that my brain is constantly firing abnormally, but not in noticeable ways. I also confirmed SLEEP DEPRIVATION is a trigger. I always knew I needed my sleep, but now I can honestly say it is confirmed that if I don’t get enough sleep, I am at higher risk of having one. That doesn’t mean I can’t stay up and go to concerts and live life; it just means I have to be responsible when I do and ensure that I get to sleep the following day.

The next step is getting a device to monitor and stop my seizures 24/7 in real-time without being hooked to outside machines. Next month the plan is to have a silver dollar size portion of my skull removed and replaced with the RNS device to monitor and control my seizures. The data it collects will be able to be viewed by my doctors whether I am in or outside the doctor’s office. The device is basically a Bluetooth device that monitors and stops seizures before they happen. The goal is to be able to go through life with less anxiety because I will not be stressed if I will have a seizure. I am lucky to be able to be independent, work, and not have anyone know that I struggle with this. Being diabetic is a different story because the gig is up once they see my insulin pump. The RNS device no one would see. It would only come up when I held out my card, saying I passed on going through the metal detector.

In closing, I would like to mention that I honestly have never had so many flowers and cute gifts while at a hospital. I am very lucky to have so many amazing people around me cheering me on through all of this chaos. Thank you all.

Morals: 1) There is humor in everything. 2) Checking in on those we love means a lot. 3) Never lose hope.

Any Reason To Celebrate

“We may not have it all together, but together we have it all.”
Unknown

“Family” can mean many different things; it can be those that are biologically related, but my family is those who love me and accept me just the way I am. Those who empower me to go for that which I may think is impossible. Those who are there when times get tough and not just when all is sunny. They give, never asking for anything in return. My family is everything, and without them, who knows where I would be? So on this Thanksgiving day, I would like to thank I consider family, from my parents to my best friends. To you, my readers.

No one will argue if you want the family to come together; throw a party. That is precisely what my family did. My family, like most others, is spread all over the country. I have family in Oregon, Virginia, North Carolina, Illinois, Maine, and Arizona. Needless to say, we don’t get to see each other often. Therefore, my Aunt’s 80th birthday seemed like an excellent excuse for a much-needed get-together. I saw one of my cousins whom I hadn’t seen since I was 10. If it weren’t for social media, I would not have recognized him.

The party was less about my Aunt and more about those who could make it, coming together to catch up and make new memories. My dad even came up with a 50’s theme after seeing a poodle skirt I could wear in a party store. The theme, however, did not make it to the masses outside of my parents and me. When my Aunt asked about the Pink Lady outfits and 50s music, we let her know the theme was the 50s because she went to high school in the 50s. She looked shocked and replied, “I did not.” My dad had to bring up the high school reunion notices on Social Media. I guess being 80 is as good an excuse as any to use when one forgets milestones, such as high school graduation.

We laughed, played games, and, notably… drove each other crazy. You know it is a good time when you don’t go to bed until 1 AM and are not tired. Like everyone else, having a house full of love and laughter is nice, but it is also nice to have some time to decompress. Here are too many more gatherings.

Moral: Anytime can be a good time for a get-together, no reason needed.

Moving on

In three words I can sum up everything I have learned about life. It goes on.
Robert Frost

I would like to take this time to thank all those that surround me with love every day. I would like to thank you for reading my blogs.

A lot has happened since I last posted my blog; some are good, some not so good, but I am here, and so are you, which is a blessing. I have been able to storm the Arizona State football field after beating a top 10-ranked school, Washington State. I was shown on television walking on and off the field during the mass exploding of the fans onto the field. I have been on a weight loss program with my parents to better our health and overall satisfaction with our lives. I have got to enjoy seeing my parents smile as they dust off clothes that they have not worn in decades. I have gone to see Panic at The Disco Live, where I relived some teenage memories as I danced the night away. I attended a 1920’s themed wedding where I got to enjoy wearing the flapper dress I adore. I got to dress up for Halloween and hand out candy. I went to an art gallery (wonder spaces) and got to see the works of talented artists who transform everyday objects, such as construction paper into a forest of wonder. I witnessed the ASU hockey team crush its opponent in the very first game i in the new arena. I discovered who my friends are because they have been there when I needed them most. I got promoted at work. Went on shopping sprees. I comforted those when they were sick and been comforted. I have grown more patient. I have become less anxious (except when on the road). I found more faith in myself and my abilities. I have opened up and let others in. I fought for love and lost.

However, I will never stop fighting for myself. I will never stop caring and wanting a better world for those around me. I will never stop.

Moral: 1) Don’t lose yourselves because others don’t value you. 2) Never stop fighting for what you believe in. 3) There is goodness in every day, sometimes it is harder to see than others, but that doesn’t mean it is not there. 4) Happiness is what you make it is not up to others to decide for you.