The Skinny on My Skin...

My face is in an identity crisis. The top thinks it is 30, properly getting fine lines and what have you. The bottom thinks it is 15 and is getting acne like I rubbed a Hot Pocket on my face. No good. I have been trying my best on my own with the knowledge I got in esthetics school. It has worked in the past, but I am under so much stress that my hormones are a bit whacked. So yeah, a medical intervention was needed.

Getting into the University hospital is ridiculous. It is all tore up from da floor up, but it is a confusing layout anyway. After getting more directions from a student, I finally found the office. I seriously don't understand why doctors have you make appointments, they should start calling them approximations because they are never even close to being on time. She finally came in and was very nice. I was completely honest and told her how much this was affecting my self-esteem and how stressful my life is and whatnot, which is kinda hard for me to do. I was taught to be tough, to never talk about myself or my situation or how I truly feel about things. Nice eh? I am getting over that quickly.

The dermatologist asked me how aggressive I want to be, aaaa... Urijah Faber aggressive please! So I got three, count them three medications to try! Woo-to-the-Hoo!!! I am on spironolactone which is a hormone that inhibits androgens that can be released during times of stress. Also it is a drug that is used in hormone therapy for male-to-female transsexuals. Yeah, this is weird but what the hell. Side effect for females can be bigger breast (I am already busting outta my B's, I don't know what the deal is with that, but it is a welcome change), and I might have to shave less often (I AM a hairy monkey). Okay, yes, I can totally deal with that. Second, I am on an antibiotic. It is different than the one that caused my psuedo tumor cerebri, , so hopefully I won't have any more brain fluid issues. Geh geez I have a weird body. Lastly, I got Differen gel. It is a topical vitamin A which is cool because it will also help with the fine line issue I have on my forehead and around my eyes. I have been using anti-aging stuff on my face since I was 23 so I am pretty proud with the way my face looks on that front.

This is the beginning. Grabbed all my stuff last night before I came home, downed all the pills and rubbed all the goop on my face. Ahhhh work, damn it work! I am going back in 3 months to see if any of this madness has helped. In the mean time, I might try a laser resurfacing or a peel. Not only is is good blog material, I am serious about getting rid of this pubescent nonsense that my face continues to exude. I am done with wearing so much make-up. That is the trouble with being a make-up artist. I can hide a lot of flaws, but I hate wearing foundation. HATE IT! I want a naked face like I had when I was a kid. I didn't have acne until I was an adult. How much does that suck?!?! Anyway, all of this is going to be done with soon enough, the stress, the acne, the make-up, the lameness. OVER IT! I am moving on and taking charge of my health both mentally and physically. I will post updates, but no pictures until my skin is porcelain pristine. Well, it might never be that...so when it is better. That is what I am hoping for, for it all to get better. Fingers crossed.

Denver G. Olmstead, Happy Birthday!

I got an message in my facebook over a month or so ago from Denver, asking for memories from friends for her 30th birthday. I was so happy when I got this, but also scared. I have been thinking about what I would write ever since, there is so much that it is really hard to narrow it down. With the help of Josh, decided to quit being a wuss and post it. So there. Thanks Josh.

I met her when we were 14. She came into the 9th grade from Logan. I remember starring at her in chorus. I memorized everything about her. She was wearing a navy blue Waterfront t-shirt, (I thought I knew everyone in the world that knew that band), her jeans were cut off on the bottom because she was so tiny, self-made Fimo beaded necklaces and a hair wrap. Her hair was really long then and she parted it in the middle. I even remember how she sat there with her Doc Martin boot crossed on top of her knee. My friend Laurel introduced us and that was it...Together everyday there after. I loved her.

We had so much in common and it started mostly with music. We even had an imaginary rock band called Suck Box. We each gave ourselves nicknames and I wrote ridiculous poems about us. She was always so encouraging of me and my writing. We planned shows for The Red Bennies, Catfish, The Numbs, Grain, gah...I can't remember all of the bands, the shows rocked the armory and a local theater in Vernal. Big hits with the kids all of them. It was so fun. Although after one of those show it was particularly stressful for Denver and I am ashamed to say, that I gave Denver her first cigarette at age 16. I clearly remember her getting extremely sweaty and flushed and then vomiting next to my car. Eeek, so sorry about that one. Denver was such a good influence on me and I was such a bad influence on her.

We both got way into photography together and took pictures of ourselves posing all over her house on Christmas day after she got her first camera and dark room kit. I still have all of them. We were terribly cute and terribly late 90s, big jeans, thrift store jackets, and big ass t-shirts. I will scan them soon so you can all see how adorable we were. We were in plays together and went to Lagoon a bunch times. When we went in the 9th grade, Denver got a Playboy bunny painted on her face and I got a fake tattoo on my chest. We died our friend Julia's hair hot pink. Separate hairstyling occasion I cut our friend Emily's hair in Denver's bedroom. It was sort of a disaster. We would just BE together a lot....talking, listening to music, burning incense to this day I can not smell Nag Champa without thinking of her. As an adult I rarely do that outside of being with my kids, I wish it was easier for adults to not have to be DOing something and to just BE.

I spent so much time with Denver and her family and I am so grateful for it. I would sleep over there a lot. We would spend hours playing with the Ouija board or putting another hair wrap in my unbelievably long hair. Denver comes from a very welcoming family. Her mom is the sweetest lady and damn can she cook. The best crepes I have ever had, seriously ever! Her dad is so nice and even when I would go over there and she was still at swim practice, he would invite me in to wait and he would chat with me the whole time. Shannon was away at school, but when she would come to Vernal she was so cool to us. And then there was Waterfront the black lab, loving big old doggy.

I picked her up for school sometimes. She was not a morning person and it was such a hassle getting her up and out the door. She was one of the only Juniors I knew that would come to school with a mug of coffee. I would drive her home before she had her car. I remember once when I was leaving the parking lot we almost got hit on Denver's side by a car full of cheerleaders. I lost it, got out of the car, spit a lugee on the windshield and screamed something to the effect of, "Watch what the fuck you are doing! You almost hit my car and could have killed my best fucking friend!" That is love right there and also me being a bitchy bad influence.

Denver stuck by me through a lot of crazy and horrible stuff. I really wasn't mature enough at the time to know what that meant. We stopped hanging out near the end of our Senior year, but we still walked the line together at graduation. That would have been the perfect opportunity for me to stop being obstinate and let whatever was causing us friction die. Unfortunately that didn't happen, I was unaware of what a good friend I had in Denver. I have yet to find another girl that could match the love and loyalty I got from her. I took her for granted and have regretted it ever since. I missed out on so much of her life these past 12 years. Even now we hover around each other in the same social groups and have yet to reconnect. Life, I guess.

Denver Graziani Olmstead is brilliant, sweet, loving, funny, and has a great sense of taste. I miss her so very much as my best friend, but I am so thankful for the time she was in my life. I am so happy to see all of her success and wish her so much more. She is so special and beautiful that only good can come to her. Thank you Denver for being my friend and for teaching me so much about myself. I will always love you and wish you the greatest joys for the next 30 years and beyond.

Prose of 3

Recently Rabbit girl got a Caesar pulled on her by three would be Bruti (yes, I know, you define the plural for Brutus, eh?) Some might say that the little Rabbit did deserve it, as she was stretching out her limbs to tickle the tail of life still swishing under her door. But the three did not stop with the stabbing, no, they left that body alive to see...and now you are here to hear the gaping breathes that still breathes of this story. (suck in hard, gurgle, cough, bleed) And it goes a little something like this....

1) Hid hurt heroically. Held in 1's horror at the happenings so well, Rabbit didn't skip a beat. She skipped to that beat. Until that beat did stopped and her little feet dropped back down down down on the earth to see the quake and shake she did repeat. "Oh sigh, where have I been?" Little paw to mouth as her mind did think. Reckless, thoughtless, violent and mean she was. Mean. Back to 1's hand she tried to be, run to 1 naked, clean and free. Try Rabbit, really try. Gone, and 1's hurt not hiding, but gleaming in 1's eyes to repeat, to re-punish, to rub in the burn that lay on Rabbit's arm. Unbearable the hurt was so strong in 1's eyes that it wrapped around 1's head and pulled it down into the bottle where 1's heart had been returned. (Rabbit put it back there weeks ago.) She drank the pills and fell asleep and when she woke, her dream was real and 1 was off and running straight into the insane. Rabbit let go of 1's hand and cut her tangles of hair from the ankle and....off like a bandage on a bloody wrist.

2) Coiled planned and planted bombs in 2's head. Remembered everything Rabbit and 1 had said. A love story copy, just a copy, and terribly sloppy. Rabbit doesn't drink really and hates it when she swears and always wears clean underwear. Tisk, tisk...some things were not paid attention and 2 was there to drop 1's other shoe. A yes, and then another, so tired and sad the tube fell out of 2's mouth and 2 began to sink. Sink and crush under the pressure that it takes to be someone your not, to walk around with someone else's talk. Pressure and fire began to split 2's seams and all that was left well.....it was all wasted dreams. Swarms of bees began to buzz around 1's head, costumed as sleep, food, and rest. A yes too many and not the right voice, the mask fell off after 1 made the choice. "Poisoned and precious, sweetly and viciously yours, follow the fishes into the desert they will bring you home...." Ah the Rabbit voice heard deep in that sleep and singing a lyric from way back when...London. The true spiral burn the slow deep began to throb and poorly planted crops were reaped. There were weakened husks and shriveled pods from the lack of care...1, sadly was not all there. 2 has gone back to play pretend, but you and Rabbit know what will get 2 in the end. Lovely Karma dresses all in black at times and sings a song of sorrow that has a sharp discord and doesn't rhyme. 2 will continue to play dress up in someone else's clothes as Rabbit clicks, clacks on as she digs her latest prose.

3) Loving lied to Rabbit. Opened Rabbit's hand and put the word "sister" in it. 3 began so slowly a decent into the great dark open water made of four little letters that swirl and grab and pull and consume and continue and repeat and repeat and repeat...L. I. A. R. The open water eventually filled 3's lungs so all that was exhaled was L. I. A. R. Before Rabbit could see all that 3 could only breathe L. I. A. R, 3 and Rabbit opened psychic circles, widened channels and danced to songs sent by the universe. Twisted smoke around their fingers and gathered wood for the witch burning. Under eyes of black 3 held a secret, held a lie...and then the worst part 3 tried to justify. Which is never good, not to Rabbit oh no, oh my my. Curious thing Rabbit can be, the mind of a lawyer she can fully see. Someone can try to hide behind a logic knitted quick and loose then Rabbit comes to cut that yarn and tie it right into a noose. One will drip and hang by their own words and deep demise. Rabbit's scissors are particularly sharp for cutting rambling logic down to size. Rabbit understand that secrets cannot hide, they come to her, float up and out of mouths, like a feather from a pillow, impossible to put back without releasing another. 3 has a ring around a finger to remind 3 of a time when a soul was given and yet....3 touched, 3 got burned, and 3 lied. Rabbit doesn't feel she has gone cold and numb on this subject of 3, for she knew in her deep tiny heart she and 3 was never really meant to be.

So there is another bloody dress to rise from, Rabbit's Ghost of Friendships Future flutters over the body it called home. That body chokes and sputters all the blood and tears in the world as it's ghost repents and gives of itself to the earth and home. Rabbit's ghost looks like the dust in the air on a Sunday when the light is just right through the blinds. Golden, fuzzy and there waiting for a new host like any respectable ghost. It will wait, it will find, it will seek and Rabbit will begin a new...after all what else does the tiny thing have to do?

The Lady Lump...

Nearly three months ago I found a lump in my left breast. I waited a month to see if it would change or go away, and no change and it didn't. Waited another month, it hurt and concerned me so I called my doctor. I went in to see her after waiting weeks to get an appointment. She was pretty sketched out about it, so she sent me to St. Mark's for an ultrasound.

I don't know if many of you know how much distain I have for ultrasound techs. I do, a lot of it, distain. Not all techs, but mostly the ones I have come in contact with. Some think they are doctors and they try to tell you what their opinion is while you are in a very vulnerable state. Again this was the case with this particular tech. She was very condescending, and didn't want to bother the Radiologist with my results. He wasn't that interested in giving them to me either. I had to wait and wait and wait, because my doctor was once again out of town.

She called and said that yes, there is something there but it was small and just looked like dense weird tissue. She thought I needed to see a breast surgeon to get a second opinion on it. That is what I did today. The receptionist at the surgeon's office was very nice. She called me Sweety and complimented me on my cute ass kids, of course. Joaquin was full on Harry Potter today, complete with English accent. Dr. Naylor came in and examined me. He was also very nice and very knowledgeable. He said that he definitely felt it and had some concerns but was calm about it. He gave me two options, one to have surgery and just take it out, or two to wait three months and see if it changes.

In the months since I have discovered it, it hasn't changed. So...I have decided to wait the three months and see. I couldn't bare to have surgery right now with everything that is going on in my life. The fact that it hurts is a good thing. If it is still there in three months I might just get it removed anyway. I am taking vitamin E and have lowered my caffeine intake, so I will see if that helps it disappear. I am glad that Dr. Naylor was calm about it. I know that it would be extremely hard for me to fight a serious disease like cancer at this particular point in time. Usually my personality is far to feisty to be taken down by a stupid lump, maybe in three months I can take charge of it. Now I need to let it ease away and do my best to take care of myself gently. So...if you find it in your heart to think of me, think of my little lady lump and tell it to just fuck right off, because really, do I need this right now? No, I don't.

The Wheelchair

Last week we went to Shriner's to have Elodie's wheelchair evaluation. It was sweet. The tech put Elodie up in this giant measuring chair. She was measured head to toe. It was like she was getting fitted for a fancy suit. They stretched out her legs and arms and measured how wide she is. So funny. She was pretty stressed about it, being in that big ol weird chair. She was saying, "Mommy, mom, help," the whole time and doing the "gimme, gimme hand." Those are so hard to resist, but she had to stay put. The wheelchair is going to be tiny, twenty-two inch wheels. It will be small enough that she can learn to get in and out of it. It is teal, we are into teal lately and the kind of frame she needs didn't come in pink. I am glad about that. She has far too much pink.

I am happy about her getting a wheelchair and more independence, but there is a part of me that still can't believe it. My little girl is going to be in a wheelchair for God knows how long. She can move her legs more, and she is getting better at standing on her own, but the nerve impulses to walk aren't there yet, and might never be. It does make my heart ache. No one ever expects a tumor to grow in their baby and cause that baby's legs not to move. At times I blame myself for this happening. I think about my pregnancy and how stressed it was. My grandparents died, my mother went insane, I was still in an ugly custody battle with my ex, I had a small baby Joaquin to care for and I had panic attacks from all the stress. I felt so alone and just tried so hard to keep it together. Camden tried his best to deal with me, but he worked all the time. I remember reading that in Japanese culture the mother has to be protected from all negativity while she is pregnant, or health problems will come to the baby. That small story has echoed in my head. I know, I know, it isn't my fault, but it is so hard as a mother to not want to take on all the responsibility. All I want in life is to care for my children and do the best by them that I can, I feel like I failed Elodie when I was pregnant. I feel I should take some blame because I didn't take care of myself while I was pregnant with her. I took on too much. I still feel like I take on too much, but that is sort of a necessity. There is no one else that can do what I do, so I do it....and I do really love it. A mommy life is hard but ridiculously rewarding. No amount of money comes close to the feeling I get when my kids want one more hug and say I love you with their smiley little faces.

Everyday is interesting and full of dainty evolution. Elodie and I are coming closer and closer to being stronger. She has a lot of special talents. She is pulling up on her knees, big and tall. She speaks so well. She dances (on her bum and knees) and sings, I will teach her to harmonize. She loves everything so much. She hugs hard and kisses hard and bites HARD. Elodie has old eyes and can see right through to the very heart of people. She is going to be such a powerful force in mine and other peoples' lives....and now she is going to do it on wheels!

Elodie is a Badass!

Just got back from the latest Elodie check up with her Shriner's doctor. Other than it taking absolutely forever (nearly two hours!!!) it went great. What was not great, was hanging out in a tiny room with two very sleepy, very hungry, pre-schoolers trying to see who could whine/cry the loudest to Mom. Joaquin won of course. I wonder how many years have been taken off my life by just sitting in tiny waiting rooms with whining crying pre-schoolers. Where is the data on that one RealAge.com? I am guessing, four at least!

The orthopedist said that we are doing everything we should to keep her growing strong. We are to continue with physical therapy, get the wheel chair and walker and then wait and see. Also she wants me to continue with her massage so that her feet don't turn in and contract. Without that they could be like the wicked witch's in The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy takes the ruby slippers off. Not good. We have to be careful that she doesn't get injured on her legs, she could have a sprain or cut and not know it. We just have to be aware and not to let her get too crazy when she is playing.

Elodie also saw a neurologist to discuss what kind of sensation she has in her feet and legs. She examined her reflexes and said that there is actually quite a bit of response, so her decreased sensation might not be as bad as we first thought. She was also very hopeful about us being able to potty train Elodie in a regular way. Some kids that are paralyzed can't feel down there when they have to go, so they have to be catheterized and use enemas and whatnot. Ugh. But Elodie has periods of dryness and she has never been a constipated baby, so the out look on that is great. Phew.

The doctors today were very hopeful about Elodie someday learning how to walk. She will need assistance, but they even think that she won't always need assistance. Woo-Hoo! I would trust these doctors over anyone else. They see kids similar and more severe to Elodie day in and day out and can spot the ones that really want to move and groove. Elodie is for sure one of those. She has been getting into so much trouble lately. She has been acting like a two year, a regular bitch ass two year old. It is awesome! Just love her to pieces and I am so happy that she is developing and growing up. It may not be the "normal" way or always an upright standing-walking sort of way, but it is her own and she is rocking it! Who cares what "normal" is anyway when you are that freaking adorable? If I do say so myself...my kid is cute.

Some Things Stay the Same...

"I'll need you to write the patient's full name here," the receptionist said as I wrote down Elodie's enormous name. "Oh Elodie, that is such an adorable name."

"Thank you." I said, followed by my daughter's sincerely little parroting of my words, "Danku!" She is terribly polite and she cracked the receptionist up. I can't help but brag about her, she is awesome.

We didn't have to wait very long before the nurse came to take us back to the MRI waiting rooms. Elodie's nurse was named Christy and she instantly remembered her from last time. While waiting I got some very sweet text messages from friends encouraging positive thoughts and energy. It was very appreciated, because this time I was not being very brave. My heart felt so heavy and my mind was so distant from all the unknown possibilities. The nurse practitioner came in to hear the history...on and on and on I went. I have told this story so many times it doesn't feel like it really happened to us. It feels as if it was a movie I saw, or a story I read. That is good I guess, to keep it far from me in times such as this. It helps to not collapse into tears.

Elodie's hands and feet were really cold. The nurses took four tries to get an IV in her. FOUR!!! They finally got one in her foot, and it was sad. She really didn't flinch too much, she said ouch, but that is about it. It really made me realize she just can't feel very much in her feet. There is feeling, but it is slight.

We were then shuffled over to the MRI room. Elodie and I had to sit in a chair outside the door when she was getting sedated. I have metal in my body, so I can't be by the giant magnet. I held her in my lap as the nurse gave her the medicine to put her to sleep. She fought it pretty hard for a second. Her head rolled back over my arm, her little eyes met mine and she kissed toward me, a sleepy loud kiss. Tears fell heavy and hard from my eyes. Elodie is the sweetest little girl. She loves to love and cuddle, it is the best thing ever. I handed my baby to the nurse and kissed her good-bye and in my head told the tumor to fuck off and quit making me cry. I watched on the monitor as the nurse laid Elodie on that big machine. It was hard to breathe. I went down to the cafeteria to force feed myself breakfast. I had no appetite, even less than usual. The breakfast was actually really good. French toast and bacon. Bacon is the miracle food, you can't cry when you are eating bacon. Seriously, you can't.

I went back to the recovery area and waited for my baby. I sat there for another twenty minutes or so getting more lovely text from friends. Ah technology, I love it. When the tech brought her out it was like slow motion. She looked so tiny in his arms and felt so lovely and warm when he sat her on my lap. It didn't take long before she was awake and demanding juice and crackers. This time at least, she can tell me more of what she needs. Her speech is really good. Elodie was all finished with her post vitals and we were able to leave. She charmed the whole staff again before we left. In her drugged state she was blowing kisses, saying thank you and good-bye. She is ridiculously sweet.

The next day we headed back to Primary Children's for her results. I felt pretty okay about it. I got all my crying done the day before. When we went into the oncology office, they all remembered Elodie. "Oh it is that cute curly headed girl, look how big she is!" That is so cool. They see tons of people going in and out of there and we were lucky enough to only been there a few times in the fall. Some kids are there every week being pumped full of cancer killing chemicals. Sigh.

Turns out the tumor has stayed the same size. Not growing or dying anymore. Stagnant. So that is really good. The spinal atrophy that the tumor caused is still there. It looks like a little dent on the scan. What that means is that she still has the nerve weakness that is causing her legs to not move very much or have much sensation. The doctors do agree that she has had mad improvement. There is no surgery or anything else we can do, so far, to improve her skills. We just have to keep on keeping on and hope that she gets more movement and sensation. She will probably need a lot of assistance for a few years. Wheelchair, braces, or crutches to help her walk and get around. I don't know why, I mean I knew all of this, but when Dr. Fluchel said it, it once again broke my heart.

I don't really think about how Elodie can't stand or walk until I am confronted with it. I will see a baby about her age cruising around the store or wherever and remember that she can't. My heart does sink, I am only human. I do morn that she probably won't be in dance when she is four or be able to ride a bike. I do love her just the way she is and will in no way put any pressure on her to do what she isn't ready for just yet. She will be just fine and so will I. This is her challenge and she is facing it head on. I love seeing her in therapy. She gets so fired up to move and she is doing so well. There has been great improvement and I know she is just going to get better. I focus on the progress and not on what she can't do. She is amazing and so sweet and smart. I can't take that girl anywhere without her getting compliments on how cute she is. It is rad hanging out with her.

She has an appointment with the orthopedist on the 23rd, so we will see what she thinks about Elodie's progress and if there is something more we can be doing. I am so thankful we got hooked up with them. It is the best place for her to grow and develop under their very experienced and watchful eye. So we are still in the holding pattern, doing our thing and being cute. I will blog about the 23rd visit and with hope and love everything will be a-okay! Elodie is a fighter, a fluffy panda with hidden powers of fierceness! I am so glad she is that way, she helps me stay positive.