So...are they?



I'd say in order of importance the topic of whether leggings are or are not pants ranks pretty high up there, next to Syria.

What's the acceptable way to wear leggings?

Do you HAVE to have a shirt cover your booty?  Your front?  What if you're actually using them to work out?  What about then?

You know what I say?
They ARE pants.

What's wrong with this outfit?  Nothing.

And ya know what...I wear them as such.  If the shirt covers my boot, fine but if not, I don't even care.

Are you this girl?

Do you see a therapist?  A real live therapist?

I have my personal therapy...




But not an actual therapist.

The conversation I had with my friend the other day is that we all get these wounds in our lives and some of them are deeper than others.  It's important to work to heal those wounds and sometimes you really need to dig into them and clean them out and it will hurt and it's yucky but it's necessary.  If you just put a band-aid on it, it might heal and it might look fine but they you'll get an infection  All that crap that wasn't dealt with before will manifest in other ways.



I think I'm going to start.  I have 2.5 friends who are therapists, the 1/2 is for the one who is almost a therapist.  I went to a therapist twice in my life, once in high school for a while and once after my mom died-once.  During the 2nd run, I went in there, cried for the ENTIRE hour (ugly, disgusting cry), left and never went back.  WTF?    

I've always been a big fan of therapy.  I mean, obviously, Ms. Chatty herself is going to be a proponent of anything that involves talking.   I think everyone needs therapy and don't think anyone should be embarrased about it.

So...therapy.  Time to bust open some of those old wounds and clean them out once and for all.  And when I'm done, I hope I'll be left with a small scar rather than a yucky infection.

What's your therapy?  How do you feel about real live therapy?

Conversations that help you realize new things.

Lots of people keep asking for an update on how I'm feeling, etc so here is a brief  long-winded as usual synopsis...
If you don't wanna read all that, skip to the summary to determine whether I am dying or not.

1.  Had a stomach ache (Pain Level: 4)
2.  Picked up Tom from the airport (Pain Level: 5)
3.  Met up with his friend for dinner and didn't eat very much because my stomach hurt
4.  Next day: Went to the dr.  She prescribed Prilosec
5.  Next morning: Went to ER doubled over in pain (Pain level: 10)
6.  Got some fabulous IV pain meds that made me so calm (thinking about going back just to get those again)
7.  Went in for a CAT Scan and they put the Contrast Dye into my IV which made me go into anaphylactic shock.  I cried because I thought I might die and I'm actually not ready for that yet.  Hashtag: My brother was so amazing and wonderful sitting with me. Never seen him so compassionate in his life.  I really soaked it in while it lasted.
8.  CAT Scan said I have a hemangioma on my liver the size of a baseball and that was causing my pain. Hashtag: Liver hemangioma don't cause pain.  Hashtag: That doctor was a dumbass but I loved my nurse.

This is a hemangioma, just some skin and blood and stuff.

9.  Got discharged, raced home, got ready and went to Grandpa's funeral
10.  Next day pain came back with a vengeance (Pain level: 10)
11.  Told Tom I needed to go back to the ER-he had lost his sense of humor and compassion but packed up my laptop for me so I wouldn't get bored.  I dropped him off for his flight 5 hours early in case I needed to sit in the ER.  We decided I shouldn't go back and just tough it out.
12.  Went to 1st GI Specialist.  He told me I needed to see: a liver specialist because I could be bleeding from my liver and that could result in death.  I contemplated my life and all that I still have left to do and that my bedroom is messy and I can't die with a messy bedroom. He also said I needed to get an: ultrasound and endoscopy.  Hashtag: That doctor was a dumbass.
13.  Found out that GI Specialist was not in my network.  Hope I don't have to eat that cost.
14.  Saw another doctor (Pain level: 1).  He said nothing is wrong with my liver.  I could be my gallbladder or an ulcer.  Recommended an ultrasound and endoscopy.
15.  Found out I'll have to pay a LOT out of pocket for all this crap.  Hashtag: I regret selecting the lowest level of insurance

16.  Call my uncle who is an ER Doctor and someone I argue with every time I see him.  We don't always get along but I trust him implicitly with my health.  He's a damn good doctor.

He first gets upset that they are ordering so many tests and not listening to what I have to say.  It's not my gallbladder he surmises because of all I tell him about my symptoms.

He also says that whatever the endoscopy says, they will treat it the same way-Prilosec

The episode I had was called a Nutcracker Esophagus (he told me to Google it so I didn't think he made it up)

Told me to go to my Dr and get a test for H Pylori

17.  Cancelled all other appointments
18.  Went to my regular dr and she said the H Pylori test could come back with a false negative.  Just keep doing what I'm doing and to tell my friends and family I am allergic to X-Ray Contrast Dye.  Here I am telling you that.  If you're with me and I can't speak, tell them none of that because I'll probably die.  (Pain level: 0)

So, in summary:
I don't have a bleeding liver. 
I don't have gall stones. 
I could have an ulcer...but probably not.
My brother thinks I was just being dramatic about my pain.  Hashtag: I wasn't.
I could have H Pylori.
I am allergic to X-Ray Contrast Dye.
Nurses are amazing and don't get paid enough to deal with so much crap. 
A lot of doctors are sucky (the Bell Curve applies in every profession-even medicine) and I could do a better job diagnosing you on WedMD-call me, I'm really good at it. 


I'm fine and we can get back to our regularly scheduled program. Hashtag: Wanna donate to my bill paying fund?  Hastag: My SIL hates hashtags and I love them.


Thank you for the calls, check-ins, messages, etc.  I Heart You!  

Today I would like to appreciate God for 53 birthdays we had my mom.


See, I truly believe he didn't really want her on this Earth for a long time.

From the time she was a baby, he kept trying to take her back to Heaven.

When she was tiny, tiny she spiked this fever that was so high it burned her teeth.  He wanted her that day, but left her here on Earth.

Years later, the next thing happened...
My mom was 8 years old and dressed in the same clothes as her cousin.  Someone sent her out for something from the store.  She walked along some old train tracks, where trains rarely came.  Well, wouldn't you know it...a train started coming.  She was on a bridge...a train track and had nowhere to go.  She was 8 years old and so scared.

The next part of this story was told to her by her mom and a nurse (who happened to be the train conductor's wife)...

She jumped and landed in a ravine but on a large piece of cement.  She broke all of her ribs, was given her Last Rights and pronounced dead at the hospital.

The next part of this story, she rarely told because, in her words, "Katie, it makes me sound crazy."  She swears she didn't jump.  She has said, since the moment she finally woke up in the hospital that "my Guardian Angel pushed me."  When she was unconscious in the hospital she says she saw lots of people in a brightly lit area (almost like a hallway).  She wasn't scared because even though she didn't know who they were, she knew them.  She said they told her, "You have to go back Peggy.  It's not your time yet."

Eventually my mom healed and God did not keep her that time.  A massive scar, minus 1 Spleen, and lots of internal damage later; she healed after she had been pronounced dead.

(She did earn the family name of Bless Her Heart by her brother who was a little annoyed that she kept trying to die so nobody ever cared that she was such a bully to her brother)


Years later she saw some pictures of people and said to her mom, "Who is that?  I know that person."  Her mom smiled and replied, "Peggy, that's my brother and he died long before you were born.  You don't know him."  She said, with conviction, "Yes, I know him.  He was there when I had my accident." This happened several more times with other family members she had never met.

And so that little girl grew up, met the love of her life and bore 2 children .

Then, in 1987 she got sick, very sick.
She stopped breathing one night.  An ambulance was called and off she and her husband went to the hospital while the neighbor sat with her soundly sleeping children.

She got sicker and sicker with pneumonia and because she didn't have a Spleen, it was a bit worse.
In fact near death...again.

But then...she got better...again.  God left her for us, again.

She taught school.  She raised kids.  And her kids went off to college and the Navy.

And then she was diagnosed with cancer and the prognosis wasn't good.  Chemo and radiation, numerous stays in the Intensive Care Unit with dangerously low white blood cell counts, we got ready to say good-bye.

But then...she got better...again.


She danced with her son on the day he wed the woman of his dreams, her new daughter-in-law.  She reminded her daughter that no matter what, she would be there.  She took a road trip with her soulmate and recaptured absolute magic.  She visited family and friends, near and far.  She assured her parents, both sets, that they would be fine.

And then she got sick again and the doctors told her that this time, she wouldn't be getting better.

And on October 23, 2007...she died.


And in my head, this time all of those same people that once lined that lighted area when she was 8 years old were there again and this time they said, "Ok, we're ready for you now.  You did a great job and they'll be just fine."  God was standing at the end and said, "I need you now.  I can't wait anymore and you can rest easy, they'll be just fine."



Thanks for all the birthdays you kept her here God.  Hope you're celebrating her today, up there.