I don't really know where to start this post and I, most certainly, do not know where it will end. I guess that I should begin by saying that, in the last week, I let myself get so overwrought that I actually contemplated giving up something I really love. No, not chocolate. No, not beer.

I thought about giving up this blog.

I used to believe that if you're going to do something...anything...you had better do it right, but I don't really have time for that mantra anymore. Now, if I'm going to do something it's half-assed or nothing at all.

My kids? Well, they get the best of what I can offer. My 25-hour a week job gets second best. then there's my husband, laundry, cleaning, cooking, errands, volunteering...oh, and this blog. Sometimes I try to sleep, but I don't even do that well.

I won't mention that I am overweight and in the worst shape of my life. Wait. I guess I did mention it.

Trust me, out of all of the things for which I am responsible, I would love to give up laundry and cooking most of all. I even like to cook, but the time it takes out of my day is ridiculous. Of course, that's if it's going to be done right...which it usually isn't.

On top of everything, I am looking for additional part-time work in the afternoons. Writing, editing, testing, whatever. I. Need. Cash. So, you know...call me. Who doesn't want a haggard, stressed-out insomniac on their payroll? Oh, all of you then.

I am tired of living in a whirlwind. I am tired of doing so much, but doing nothing well. I'm tired of being sub-standard and not living up to my potential. I'm tired of being fat. I'm tired of hating myself. I'm tired of feeling weak.

I want to write. I want to read books. I want to go to Yoga class. I want to put my pictures into albums. I want to make a life list. I want to spend time with family and friends. I want to run. I want to do better.

I know that some people handle and accomplish far more than I do. Good for them. I can't do it. I should get credit for my admission.

Unfortunately, I can barely find time to brush my hair, let alone do anything I want to do. And, unfortunately, there is nothing elective to give up other than this blog.

This special corner of my world, with the best support a girl could ask for, is the only thing I can quit.

But, before I do...I am open to suggestions. If you can help me save this place...this thing I love...that is so dear to me, I will be forever indebted. Just don't count on me having time to pay you back.

**UPDATE**
To all of you who called, texted, e-mailed and commented...thank you. Your support proved to me that I'll never be able to stop.

Labels: A Friend in Need, Ramblings

I had a post for today, but ended up going to the hospital for some tests for my upcoming surgery on my girly parts, then I went to a staff meeting at work and spent the rest of the afternoon working on updating other areas of this site.

Overall, it was kind of a lazy summer day. With the exception of watching my son walk around clenching his jaw all day (because he put his teeth through his chin last night), the day was without drama. Yesterday, the hole in his lip did cause a bit of hoopla, but today? Wasn't bad.

No drama is good around here. Boring and lazy is like a ray of sunshine, because more often than not we have a lot to deal with.

But, you know what? We're one of the lucky families. My son may not live to be elderly, but given the medical advances in cardiology, you never know. Maybe he will. There are some children who have rare diseases for which little is known and for whom life could be cut way too short.

One of those children belongs to my friend, Kevin. Today, Kevin reminded me of how fortunate we are. Click here if you want to read why.

But, if there is one thing I really want you to click, it is this...

Your vote can mean $250,000 from the Pepsi Refresh Project to help fund research for this rare auto-immune disorder. YOU CAN HELP! Please vote for this. For me, for my friend, but more than anything for his daughter and all the kids like her.

Labels: A Friend in Need

Labels: A Friend in Need, Giveaway

On Tuesday night, I came home after being on my feet for the better part of 14 hours. I was tired. Not just physically, but also emotionally because the events of the last couple of weeks had drained me. The marrow of life had been sucked right out of me.

All I wanted to do was cry.

There was a package waiting for me that had been sent by one of my favorite readers, who also happens to be an inspirational writer. Actually, she's an inspirational human being. I don't know how we came to read each other's blogs, as she's a knitter and is exceptional at her art. As for me? I just own art. Like from Target and stuff.

Inside the package was a beautiful shawl. I pulled it from its bag and wrapped it around my shoulders. Instead of wiping away tears, I began to smile. That gorgeous shawl, which was made with love and out of pure friendship, arrived at the perfect time. It was like getting a hug from thousands of miles away.

Blogging has brought extraordinary people into my life. Outside of my church, I have never seen such generosity and downright goodness in others. Bloggers latch on to each other's writing, each other's causes and to each other.

Last week, my good friend Piper received devastating news when her fiance broke up with her over the phone. Piper is a strong, single-mother who loves with her whole heart and who oozes good vibes. She has a beautiful spirit, is an amazing mom and a terrific writer.

Today I, and many others, are sending her hugs from thousands of miles away. We are trying to repair her spirit to its beautiful state. She needs to know she deserves better than the bad hand that she was dealt. She needs to know we love her.

And, Piper, we do. We really love you. But, you're totally not getting my shawl.

For more Piper love, visit the links in this Mr. Linky:

Labels: A Friend in Need, Ramblings

Kevin of Always Home and Uncool has asked me to post this as part of his effort to raise awareness in the blogosphere of juvenile myositis, a rare autoimmune disease his daughter was diagnosed with on this day seven years ago. The day also happens to be his wife's birthday.

*
Our pediatrician admitted it early on.

The rash on our 2-year-old daughter's cheeks, joints and legs was something he'd never seen before.

The next doctor wouldn't admit to not knowing.

He rattled off the names of several skins conditions -- none of them seemingly worth his time or bedside manner -- then quickly prescribed antibiotics and showed us the door.

The third doctor admitted she didn't know much.

The biopsy of the chunk of skin she had removed from our daughter's knee showed signs of an "allergic reaction" even though we had ruled out every allergy source -- obvious and otherwise -- that we could.

The fourth doctor had barely closed the door behind her when, looking at the limp blonde cherub in my lap, she admitted she had seen this before. At least one too many times before.

She brought in a gaggle of med students. She pointed out each of the physical symptoms in our daughter:

The rash across her face and temples resembling the silhouette of a butterfly.

The purple-brown spots and smears, called heliotrope, on her eyelids.

The reddish alligator-like skin, known as Gottron papules, covering the knuckles of her hands.

The onset of crippling muscle weakness in her legs and upper body.

She then had an assistant bring in a handful of pages photocopied from an old medical textbook. She handed them to my wife, whose birthday it happened to be that day.

This was her gift -- a diagnosis for her little girl.

That was seven years ago -- Oct. 2, 2002 -- the day our daughter was found to have juvenile dermatomyositis, one of a family of rare autoimmune diseases that can have debilitating and even fatal consequences when not treated quickly and effectively.

Our daughter's first year with the disease consisted of surgical procedures, intravenous infusions, staph infections, pulmonary treatments and worry. Her muscles were too weak for her to walk or swallow solid food for several months. When not in the hospital, she sat on our living room couch, propped up by pillows so she wouldn't tip over, as medicine or nourishment dripped from a bag into her body.

Our daughter, Thing 1, Megan, now age 9, remembers little of that today when she dances or sings or plays soccer. All that remain with her are scars, six to be exact, and the array of pills she takes twice a day to help keep the disease at bay.

What would have happened if it took us more than two months and four doctors before we lucked into someone who could piece all the symptoms together? I don't know.

I do know that the fourth doctor, the one who brought in others to see our daughter's condition so they could easily recognize it if they ever had the misfortune to be presented with it again, was a step toward making sure other parents also never have to find out.

That, too, is my purpose today.

It is also my birthday gift to my wife, My Love, Rhonda, for all you have done these past seven years to make others aware of juvenile myositis diseases and help find a cure for them once and for all.

To read more about children and families affected by juvenile myositis diseases, visit Cure JM Foundation at www.curejm.com.

To make a tax-deductible donation toward JM research, go to www.firstgiving.com/rhondaandkevinmckeever or www.curejm.com/team/donations.htm.

Labels: A Friend in Need