My Mama Is Very Sick!

My mom is sick, as many of you know. She found out about 5-6 years ago that she had Hepatitis C. She has no IDEA how she contracted it. She was never involved in any "high risk" activities. Her doctors suspect was from a blood transfusion she had back in the mid-70s. She never even knew until she was hospitalized with colitis.



Because she went undiagnosed for many years, her liver was completely ravaged by the time she went for treatment. As a result, the doctors had to stop the Hep C treatments and focus on the cirrhosis (i.e. liver disease). Ever since her health has steadily been on the decline. She is now wheelchair bound and requires around-the-clock care.

She's been under the care of the transplant doctors at UAB in Birmingham, AL, for awhile now. Each time she goes there, she spends about 3 days going through a gazillion and one tests. They rank the diseases progression on a scale from 6 to 40. A 6 is for the less ill; a 40 is for those in critical condition and near death. Those who are in the 18-20 range are placed on the donor list.

At my mom's last appointment a few days ago, her MELD score was a 23. She's considered a top priority case, and will be placed at the top of the list for a transplant. HOWEVER, the doctors say that she is too weak right now to survive the surgery!!! This means, "yes" he disease warrants a transplant. "No," she's not a candidate. I just want to SCREAM!

I do understand, though. A transplant organ is a precious gift not to be wasted. If she cannot survive the surgery, then that liver has been wasted. It cannot be transplanted into another patient due to time constraints. They don't open up a couple of people and pray the organ works on one of them. (Although, I may suggest that.)

I feel so helpless right now. I live so far away from her. My poor daddy has been at it alone. He's up every few hours with her. His world revolves around her care. He doesn't even feel comfortable going to the grocery store fearing that something might happen to her while he's away. That's a lot for a 61 year old man to endure. I'm scared if he had a health exam, they'd tell him he's on death's door due to stress-related illnesses.

I am already planning a visit at the end of June, but I need to see her now. I'm driving down today to try and help my dad and spend some time with my mom. I have to see her! I feel like she may have given up. But if any of you know my mom, she's a fiesty little thing. She's not a quitter! Hopefully, I can remind her of that and help her find the motivation to GET UP and MOVE! If she doesn't get moving and build up her strength, I will be planning her funeral in 6 months.

PLEASE PRAY FOR CHERYL JADE DAVIS TIBLIER! Pray that she will put her faith in God and her trust in the transplant doctors at UAB.

Team Blue

Okay Liz, this is for you!

My pregnant friend had the BIG appointment today, and found out she's having a boy. This is her third child and her third boy. I texted her before I left school because another friend, B, and I were dying to know! B was really hoping for a girl. Of course, B only has a daughter so she hasn't yet experienced the joys of a son. Consequently, I came up with a little list of just a few of the reasons...

Why Boys Are Better

• They are crazy about their mothers! Just ask Freud...


• They are far less dramatic than girls.


• My friend won't have to "share" her royal throne with anyone else in the house.


• Boys are FUN!


• Boys are good at mowing the lawn.


• Boys can move the heavy stuff.


• Boys DO NOT turn into teenaged girls (at least, not without medical intervention).


• Boys will always get a date if they want one, but girls can go dateless for years if no one asks.


• Boys don't require make up.


• Boys get ready for school much quicker than girls.


• She won't have to share her clothes, her shoes, her jewelry, etc.


• Barbershop haircuts are cheap!


• Boys cannot get pregnant! They may get someone pregnant, but the chances are not as great that my friend will have to raise her own grandchild. Statistically, that burden typically goes to the maternal grandparents.


• Boys can get high dollar scholarships and even million dollar pro contracts if they excel in sports.


• Boys turn into men who rule the world and make more money doing it! (A reality that sucks big time!)


• Boys (and men) are putty in the hands of their mamas!

Congratulations, Liz! Go Team Blue!

Forks in the Road of Life

Today I learned that two of my former friends were arrested over the weekend. I say former, but nothing really happened to cause our parting. Our lives just went in different directions. I can't help but wonder, though, how and why do people do the things they do???

The people to which I am referring were arrested for manufacturing meth. (I'm displaying a perplexed face even as I type this.) WTH?? How do you get to that point in your life? Honestly, how do you wake up one morning and say, "Hey, I've got a good idea!" Really, was this the last resort? Did they have starving children to feed? Were they in jeopardy of becoming homeless? Did some drug dealer hold a gun to their heads and force them to make it or else? If any of these reasons were the case, I might be a bit more sympathetic.

However, as is ALWAYS the case, there were no extentuating circumstances. There was nothing noble about their make-shift lab. They weren't conducting secret experiments hoping to find a cure for cancer. It was just plain, ol' stupidity and greed mixed with a little addiction. Blagghh! It makes me sick!

Have they never seen Intervention? Meth leaves you with pus-filled scabs on your face and rotten teeth. It makes you paranoid and willing to sell your first-born child. I've seen people go from a nice home with nice cars to eating out of trash cans! (Not in real life, of course, but on the show.) They lose everything! And for what?? I don't even see the attraction.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying these folks went from an Amish lifestyle to crystal meth over night. My friends were always partiers - heck, so was I! Which brings me to my original thought... What the heck happened??? How did it go from playing cards and drinking a few beers on Sunday afternoons to snorting and making meth? When did they come to that proverbial fork in the road?

Ya know what makes the entire drama even worse (and STUPID to the 45th power)? The girl's husband (now her ex) spent some time in a federal prison for the EXACT. SAME. THING. I don't know which comedian I heard say it, but we really do need to put STUPID stickers on people. If these two don't deserve a "Jackass of the Day" award, I don't know who does.

Ridiculous... and D-U-M-B! I know it's harsh, but they belong in jail. Too bad the judge can't tack another 3 years onto their sentence for being stupid. I can hear him now:

Well, Miss E, you have been found guilty of manufacturing a control substance
with the intent to distribute. For that, I am sentencing you to 5
years. In addition, the verdict was unanimous, and you've been
convicted of being a complete idiot. Therefore, you are sentenced to
another 3 years to be served consecutively. May God have mercy on
your soul.

That last part was added for a little court room drama Law & Order style.

43 and PROUD of it!

Before our regularly scheduled program, here's a word from our sponsors:

I'd like to give a shout out to Stephanie!
Her birthday blog was my inspiration! Thanks,
girl!

I am nearly another year older. On Saturday, April 25th, I will be 43 years old. I can't believe it! Where did the years go?? It seems like just yesterday I was graduating from college! Don't get me wrong; I am thrilled to be alive. I don't feel old, and I certainly don't act it either. I just can't believe how quickly the years have flown by! It's like I went from 25 to 43 overnight!

Regardless, I love my birthday. I don't really think about the age, but more the milestone. Since I've lived most of my life as a hypochondriac waiting for the *BIG* terminal diagnosis, I typically breathe a sigh of relief as another year passes. Phewww! I dodged the bullet once again. I don't have AIDS, and I've made it through another year.

Some of you may laugh, but I'm serious. I had a boyfriend once who was of very questionable character. For years, my heart stopped each time the phone rang. I just knew I'd get a call from the Health Department saying that he had HIV, and that I needed to be tested. When I got pregnant, I celebrated the negative HIV results as much as the new life forming inside me.

I think of the many times I got into a car with some really hot guy I'd only met an hour before. When Natalee Holloway went missing, I watched the news hourly. That could have been me! And every one of my girlfriends who read this know that it could have been them, too. We'd done just as she did a gazillion and one times! I held out hope for a long time that she'd been found alive, but I knew in my heart that he killed her and fed her to the sharks. She won't get to celebrate number 43.

I think of all the crazy, careless things I've done in my life. I can't help but wonder -- why am I still here ALIVE and kicking while others who'd done the same things weren't as lucky?? I cannot count the number of times I'd gotten in a car with a drunk driver. My sister did it, and died at 26. How about all the times I've driven drunk myself?? I'm too embarrassed to even try to count the number of times I've done that!

The great thing about the aging process is that you tend to get wiser. Not everyone, but most of us. My life experiences have made me who I am, but BOY, was I stupid! I took dangerous risks and abused my body. Does anyone remember laying in the sun from 9 a.m. until 5 p.m. with baby oil and iodine slathered on our bodies?? I remember thinking that it wasn't a successful tanning day unless I came home with 3rd degree burns. I am skin cancer waiting to happen!

Thus, celebrating my 43rd birthday is a real blessing. I do still miss my old body, but I don't miss being 20-something. Sure, I still probably eat too much junk, and I am a complete Diet Dr. Pepper addict. However, I am a bit gentler to my body hoping that I can prolong the inevitable. I don't smoke anymore, and I probably drink once or twice a year. I wear my seatbelt and NEVER drink and drive anymore. I wear sunscreen and don't lay out, either. I take a daily vitamin and a little Zoloft to keep my sanity in check.

Thank you, God, for protecting me from myself. I'm sure I was a difficult case! (Now watch; I'll walk outside and be struck down by lightning!)

I haven't been able to dig up photos from my 20-somethings, but here's me before kids. I think I was 36 or 37 years old.

I'm Going to H-E-double hocky sticks!

God, please forgive me for being such a judgemental b#t@h!

The little girl who sent the tasteless baby shower invitation actually lost her baby. The pregnancy was in its final trimester so it was a stillbirth. While I, in no way, condone babies having babies out of wedlock, I cannot help but have sincere sympathy for her. The loss of a child has got to be one of the most horrific feelings. I think all mothers, regardless of their age or circumstances, can feel her pain. I don't believe she's handling it very well, either. Teenagers are such emotional, fragile things already. The addition of such a tremendous loss is probably more than she thinks she can bare.

It is at these times that I think God actually led me to this career. Instead of a lecture on the irresponsible behavior that led to this pregnancy, she needs to know that I care and can relate to her situation. And I can...

I never had a loss as far along as she, but I did actually suffer several miscarriages. I remember feeling like my life was over when I had the first one. My husband and I were so excited as were all of our friends and family. However, it was not meant to be. I lost that pregnancy at about 10 weeks.

My 2nd miscarriage occurred not long after the first loss. I was at the beginning of my second trimester when the doctor could find no heartbeat. Again, complete devastation! Because I had finally entered the "safe zone" (i.e. the 2nd trimester), I'd already painted the nursery. I had even ordered the furniture for the babies room and purchased a few of the essentials. That loss was a hard one; I was done.

My husband and I went to a specialist to determine if there were any underlying problems. Turns out my eggs were old (DUH!!! I was 36 years old at the time). They also discovered that my blood was extremely thick and susceptible to clotting probably due to years of smoking. (Those Virginia Slim ads that were in women's magazines when I was young didn't mention anything about that!)

The next miscarriage came after trying again for nearly a year. It was an early loss but no less devastating than the others. I thought my chances at motherhood were gone. I was an emotional wreck having lost all hope.

I obviously did finally have two beautiful, healthy children. But their births did not replace those little peanut that came before them. When I was pregnant with my son, I rented a heart monitor and listened to his heartbeat every 20 minutes until he was born. I was literally scared to death! And I considered naming my daughter Jesus Christ because I'm almost positive her conception was immaculate.

Those losses affected me greatly, though. I was happy to have my two children, but had my tubes tied after my daughter's birth. I could not bare the thought of suffering another loss, and I didn't want to press my luck with God. He'd already worked two miracles for me. I didn't want to seem greedy.

I know that R will go on to have children some day. She is so young, and she has the best years ahead of her. I only hope that she will get the support she needs to make it through this horrible time. I purchased a sympathy card today. I want her to know that I care, and that I'm thinking of her.

Missing My MeMe

I witnessed a very disturbing, yet priceless, lesson yesterday. A club at school presented a program on driver safety and drunk driving. They went all out, too. The kids set the stage and presented a scenario where a girl has a party while her parents are out of town. When someone shows up with alcohol, things get wild. One of the students acts as though he is extremely drunk, and refuses a ride home. In addition, he agrees to take several other party-goers home. The scene ends and the entire assembly is led outside to a mock accident scene.

The accident scene was very realistic. People were screaming for help while others were apparently dead. The police and firefighters actually arrived at the fictitious scene, and began rescue efforts. Shortly afterwards, an ambulance arrived complete with EMTs and stretchers. Finally, the medic helicopter landed to rush the critically injured to area hospitals.

The entire program was well-planned, and extremely realistic. So realistic, in fact, that I nearly lost my composure. I fought back the tears, and finally had to remove myself from the entire scene. It was more than I could bear.

Ya see, on a Friday evening in November of 1993, my sister was in a very similar accident and was killed. She and a couple of friends had been drinking. They got into a car with an intoxicated driver and did not fasten their seatbelts. The driver was speeding over some railroad tracks and failed to yield at the intersection. They slammed into a truck driven by a man on his way to his night shift job. Luckily for him, he was wearing his seatbelt and survived with few injuries.

My sister and her friends were not so lucky. Because my sister was not wearing her seatbelt, she flew towards the windshield and broke her neck on the frame. The driver was nearly decapitated as she was thrown completely through the windshield. The rear passenger did survive the crash, but later died without ever gaining consciousness. Amazingly, this is almost exactly how the mock car scene looked with the driver hanging out of the windshield and everything! It felt so surreal and nearly brought me to my knees.

My sister was the cutest thing in the world! I was always so jealous of her. Everyone loved her! She was full of life, and could make me laugh like no one else. We weren't very close growing up, but had really gotten close in the years before her death. The "competition," that is often so prevelant with sisters who are close in age, was finally over. We had our own lives and our own interests and could actually enjoy each other's company.

Just before she died, she was having serious marital problems, though. She and her husband had just separated. We talked on the phone the night before the accident. She was so upset and crying about her husband and his new girlfriend. I remember distinctly trying to console her and telling her how much I loved her. She probably went out that night hoping to drink her sorrows away. She certainly did that...

Any way, all of those emotions just came back to me in a flash. I didn't even realize those feelings were still there! Nearly 15 years later, I can handle this. Right?? But that is farther from the truth than anyone realizes. Ever since her death, I have felt completely alone. I have a brother, but he and I have never been close. I personally don't think he's interested either. He's very consumed with himself and his own demons, but I'll save that for another blog.

So here I am...an only child to parents who don't feel the need to stay close either. They, too, have their own problems with my mother needing a transplant and my dad still working 60 hours a week at 62 years old. Again, I'll save it for another blog. For this is about the hole in my life where my sister once stood.

We were not twins, but we were only 13 months apart. The tumultuous teen years nearly ripped us apart, but we hung in there. We had too much in common to not be friends. We may have led our lives differently, but we had the same sense of humor. She and I could have fun in a closet with only a flashlight and an egg timer.

Ahhhh, I miss her. It makes me sad when I realize that I can't even remember her face. At her funeral, I kept studying her hands. I did not want to forget how those fingers looked. She'd always bitten her nails, but had finally kicked the habit. When she died her nails were no longer nubs; they were manicured and painted. So I studied those hands like I was studying for a big test. Often when I get scared because I can't remember her, I concentrate on visualizing those wonderful little hands...that hump in her wrist that I think was a cyst...those skinny, knobby fingers...

I miss my little sis.

A is for Appalled...

and B is for babies' mamas!

I guess I probably should not have expected much better, but I am nearly (notice I said nearly) speechless!!! I recently received a baby shower invitation from one of my students. I was a bit surprised and taken aback, seeing as the girl has often heard me express my views about teenage pregnancy. Since I really like the girl as a person, I softened just a little and almost felt honored to be invited. After all, this must mean that I am an important person in her life. Right??

I've had showers before. You typically don't invite complete strangers or people to whom you are not related. I had several baby showers with my first child. Probably more than I should have, but each hostess totally insisted! Consequently, when making the lists of attendees, I made sure not to invite the same people AND I listed only those in my "inner circle" of friends and family. I was beyond excited to have the opportunity to share my joy with those closest to me. I had no expectations regarding gifts, and only registered after my out-of-town relatives insisted I do so.

Don't get me wrong; I am no Emily Post. However, I do not wear white shoes before Easter or after Labor Day, and I DO NOT host my own baby showers. Furthermore, I am appalled by people who do. I cringe each time I see that coworker (yall know the one) wearing white shoes in December. Worst than that, though, is someone who hosts her own baby shower. *** GASP *** (Lockard, are you reading this???)

You guessed it! The shower is being hosted by the girl herself. She printed her own invitations complete with a glamour-shot of herself (no cute ducks, baby bottles, or diaper pins) smack, dab in the center. At first glance, I actually thought I was receiving a promotional flyer from a local photographer. This, in no way, resembled any baby shower invitation I'd ever received.

The faux pas doesn't stop there, though. Included in the invitation was a small insert indicating where the baby's mama-to-be was registered. The registry, by the way, was not a suggestion. It was a DEMAND! She actually stated that guests were to ONLY (and she used all caps) purchase what was on the registry. FLAT. OUT. APPALLING.

My shock did not stop there, though. No! The insert went on to say that any guest who did not RSVP would not be admitted. What is this? A ball for the Queen of England?? Will there be security to escort any party crashers? God knows, EVERYONE loves a baby shower. I couldn't think of a better way to spend two hours of my Saturday afternoon than with a bunch of folks I barely know talking about epidurals and episiotomies.

In addition, the insert goes on to describe the decor of the baby's room (which I suspect is actually the teen's room with a baby bed in it). In the next sentence in BOLD letters with multiple exclamation points afterward was:

PLEASE, NO WINNIE THE POOH!!!!

Are you freakin' kidding me??? Mind you, this is someone with no job and no means to support a baby other than a minimum wage job held by the daddy. And don't even get me started on how quickly he'll probably head for the hills when he discovers how much having a baby can obliterate your social life!!!

I actually waited a few days before blogging about this because I was so mad. I've never been speechless before so this was a first. I am just curious about what person helped her with those invitations. She couldn't have done all of them by herself because it seems as though she distributed them to every person in the school. What about her mom or aunt or friend?? Did anyone look at it and say, "Oh, those look great! You should definitely make 4,000 copies and hand them out to random people on the street!"

If I weren't so darned disgusted, I'd probably feel sorry for the girl. Apparently, she's not learned the skills necessary to be socially acceptable in this world. Furthermore, her daughter will be the same way. Uggghhhh... Have I told you how I feel about teen pregnancy lately???