Depression

Over the last few weeks, I've been thinking long and hard about this topic. Why? I feel like it keeps coming up. I've seen family members talk about it, on Facebook. I've heard people, discussing it. And recently, at funerals, there's been a lot of whispering...around this topic.

"Depression...a state of feeling sad, anger, and anxiety. A mood disorder marked by sadness, inactivity, difficulty in thinking and concentration, a significant increase or decrease in appetite and time spent sleeping, feelings of dejection and hopelessness, and sometimes suicidal tendencies."

I looked up that definition. And thought, how many people could fit into that category? How many people that I know. So many! So many of us, just keep moving forward. So many of us, pretending that we're OK.

I'm the Queen of the "I'm Fine" game. "How are you feeling?" "Fine." "How is everything going?" "Fine." "Do you need help with anything?" "No, I'm fine." Because that's how I was raised. To be OK. Not to bother people with my problems. To show people, from the outside looking in, that I was OK.

Until the day...that I wasn't. I can't really explain what happened. How it happened. Or why it happened. I just know, it happened. One day, I was OK. And the next, I wasn't. Not many people know this. But I'm about to share with you, one of the darkest times, of my life.

I was in college. A lot had been happening. I was away from home, for the first time. Hours away from my family. About 2/3 of my friends had moved away. To pursue work, in a bigger field. I had lost 5 pivotal people, in my life. Had 2 major car accidents. One in which, I almost died. Had a major operation. That would alter my life. I wouldn't tell my family about that. And had been held at gunpoint...more times than I can count on my hands.

Life was a little stressful. And I wasn't sure, who I could turn to. I didn't want to damper my friends' spirits. They were so excited about these new adventures. Moving, touring, having the best time. I didn't want to disappoint my parents. Or burden my family. I was falling apart.

And on this particular Thursday morning, I walked into my psychology class. Like I had so many times before. Sat down. And waited for one of my favorite professors, to start teaching.

What I didn't realize was, he was watching me. Studying me. That entire 110 minute class. He knew something wasn't right. When class ended, Dr. D asked me to step into his office. I remember my heart racing. What could this be about?

I would spend the next 4 hours, sitting in a chair, in his corner office...crying. Uncontrollably. He was the first person, to see me fall, completely apart. He saw all the signs that day. Things I would have never imagined. Things he'd watched over the last two weeks. But suddenly, they were screaming at him.

Dr. D would cancel his last class of the day. To talk with me. To make sure, I was OK, to go home. Alone. That I wouldn't hurt myself. He called colleagues of his. To insure, I'd have a doctor the next morning. He set up, all of my care.

I still get emotional, thinking about it. Knowing, this man saved my life. My favorite professor, who talked for days and days. This man, that I'd see at various school functions. That without a second thought, I'd see him and his wife, every single Saturday running up A Mountain. He saved my life.

Dr. D was the person that stopped my train wreck. From the outside, everything appeared to be OK. I went to school every single day. I had straight As, and was on the Dean's List. I worked at the hospital. And doing gigs. Everything seemed to be going great.

But inside, I was broken. Completely, 100%. I would call my parents every day. And for 30 minutes, I'd tell them about all the good things. I made it home, about once every two months. No family visited me. Not even my parents. And it was working out OK. I could hide from everyone.

Now, I was faced, with this demon. The one living inside me. Weighing me down. Eating me alive. Tearing me apart. On that Friday morning, I went to class as normal. Dr. D called the hospital for me, and was able to get me out of work. For the weekend. I went to Dr. D's office. Not only was he a professor, he had a private practice. That is where I went. And where I'd meet Dr. M and Dr. E who would walk this journey with me.

I was going through all of this. And living with chronic pain. In my back and neck. Due to cheerleading. And those recent accidents. I was also experiencing a ton of hip pain. I was not being treated for anything. Didn't even take a Tylenol. I didn't drink. Or do drugs.

All of a sudden, I was in a room. With three professionals. Letting everything out. Telling them about my life. Past and present. I have never cried so much in my life! All of a sudden, it was like the dam had broke. And I couldn't keep anything in. No matter how hard I tried.

I'm a strong person. One that shoulders a ton of responsibility. And every one's problems. But rarely, did I deal with my own emotions. Until that day. By 7PM, I was exhausted! All I wanted to do, was go home. But these three, had other plans for me. They'd rent a hotel suite...and I'd spend my weekend there. We each had our own room. But they could watch over me.

During this weekend, I talked more, than I've ever talked in my life! I cried. I let these people, into my life. In a way, that I had never let anyone else in. And on Sunday evening, we made a plan. One that included 2 hour sessions of therapy, 5 days a week. And prescriptions. The only way, they'd let me go home, was to agree to check in, 3 times a day.

And for the next 6 months, this is what I did. No breaks. No days off. Just dealing with all of this. Learning tools, that I'd use for a lifetime. Tools that would become essential, for my basic life.

I'm grateful for their help. For 10 hours a week, I could be honest. Without being judged. I could just be me. After 6 months, my sessions were reduced. To 1 hour, 5 times a week. It was still a lot. But it was what I needed. I remained on this program for 18 months. For the 6 months that followed, I was weaned to 2, 2 hour sessions a week. A year later, I'd go to therapy like a more normal person. 1, 1 hour session, every other week.

I still take medication. Albeit, it's a lot less. Maybe 1/10 of where I started. And I still have a rough day, from time to time. But I spent a LONG time, dealing with my emotions. Working through my problems. And learning, how to deal with all these stressors.

It was a TON of work! But something I will always be grateful for. When I look back, on the last 7 years, I would have NEVER made it...had I not had this experience. I learned how to deal with all these things. And when my Dad got sick, I needed those tools. I needed to deal with things as they were coming. Emotions and all. And I needed to know, it was OK...to put some things, on the back burner.

Life has not been easy for me. But it has been something, that I learned how to deal with. I can tell you about countless days, were I'd cry on the floor of the shower. When my Dad was sick. Or the hopelessness, I felt when he died. Or the overwhelming feelings I experienced, when my Mom got sick.

But I learned how to deal with my problems. Have there been times, when I scared myself? Yes! During my darkest days, I can remember that familiar drive back and forth. Three hours one way. And going over the large bridges thinking, "Life would just be better without me." Honestly, I felt that way. It's one of the reasons, I was so willing to seek treatment. Those things scared me.

I never actually tried to hurt myself. But I did think things like this. I often wonder, had I not gone through treatment, how would it have ended? Would I have driven my car, off of one of those bridges? Would I have done something worse? Could I have hurt myself?

I don't know. And honestly, I'm glad I'll never know. Because it scares me now. To think of the things I could have done. To think I could have hurt myself. I could have even killed myself. What would that have done, to my family? My friends? And my parents?

It took me, years to let my parents in. To let them know, I had this weakness. This issue, that I had no control over, when it began. But something I worked hard, to deal with. My parents never judged me. Never thought I was less than. They were only supportive.

Have I had relapses? In some small way...yes. I've continued with medication. Like I said, at much lower levels. I've also found other ways of coping. Running, baking, crafting, volunteering, writing letters/notes to people, working on our foundation, work in general, meditating, praying, through music, and with my pup. It's all been helpful.

But even now, I will Skype with one of my 3 doctors...at least once every four months. Just to make sure I'm OK. To talk through issues, I might be going through. To just work through stuff.

When my Dad was sick, I could feel myself slipping. Back into those patterns. I'd live in sweats. Didn't care if 2 or 3 days would go by, without showering. Stopped caring about my appearance, if I ate, or even slept. It was getting rough. The last 6 months, of my Dad's life, I was losing myself.

One day, in the hospital, I saw myself. I'd lost 10 pounds. Didn't care about my appearance. Or about anything other than my Dad. It took me back, to years prior. When I'd been 93 pounds. Alone in my home. Without any cares. I wasn't sleeping. And I just didn't care. It scared me.

During this time, I knew I was losing my Dad. I knew there was nothing I could do. I also knew, life was about to change dramatically. For about 9 months, after my Dad's passing, I was just trying to survive. I was using coping skills, that I'd learned. And just trying to work through all the emotions I was feeling.

Had I not had years and years of therapy, under my belt, I probably would have cracked. Had some sort of breakdown. Who knows what would have happened. But being that raw, didn't scare me. I knew, I could work through it. I had a whole bunch of tools, that I could turn to.

I guess, the reason I wanted to write this post...is to be honest. To let you know, it's OK. If you're going through this, it's OK. There are people willing to help. There are people that have gone through the same things, and come out the other side. Most of all, there are people that care.

Contemplating suicide, at any level...is a real emotion. It's raw. It's difficult. But honestly, it should never be an option. There should ALWAYS be someone to turn to. Someone to help you. Someone, that is on your side.

I think now, how selfish it would have been, for me to drive off of a cliff. But at the time, in a three hour drive...I'd think about it, at least 10 times. Now I realize, had I done that...who would have taken care of my Dad? Or now, my Mom? Where would my crazy dogs be? My family would still miss me. And so would my friends.

But when this disease, has you, in the palm of it's ugly hand...you just can't think straight. If you are struggling. And reading this...send me a message. Let me help you. I WANT TO HELP YOU!!!

People always think, they can yell at you. Get you to snap out of it. Like you are just sad. But you're not, just sad. It's more than that. And you need help. You need a caring hand. Someone to just listen to you. Sometimes, just to sit with you.

Will this be a lifelong battle for me? I'm not sure. I'm nearing a monumental point in my journey. Stopping all medication. But continuing to journal every single day. To meditate. To work on my illness, in other ways. I'm excited. And scared. Scared to death, that I might have some sort of relapse.

But it's definitely time, for me to do this, without medication. To trust my body. And work on my mind. To know, that it has been years, since it's been really bad. That those days of not eating, not caring, and spending all my free time sleeping...are well behind me.

It's a little more complex for me. I was diagnosed with OCD, when I was 7 years old. It's something that I've had to work through. It explains why instead of playing, I'd spend hours organizing my books, as a child. As a teenager, I'd rather hangout alone...than deal with the chaos that too many friends made. Or why in my home, every single thing, had a place. No dish, or spoon, or hair tie was ever out of sorts. Every single surface was scrubbed clean. The yard, looked like I had a gardener.

But when you mix that with depression, it's tough. It makes your mind feel like, a complete world of chaos. All the time! Little things trigger, anger and frustration. Migraines, are just something I deal with, because of all these issues.

But all of these things, don't overwhelm me. They've changed the person I am. And maybe when I do things. Like avoiding Walmart...like the plague, on the weekend. Only doing my grocery shopping, early in the morning. Or just staying home. Because for me, the triggers are stress, chaos, and crowds.

I also know, I want to live. I want to live a long life.  A successful life. And I productive life. I know that one day, I want to have a family of my own. And I want to have these issues, under my belt. Not in the forefront, of my life. As hard as some days are, they are worth it. Just to know, that this is not always my life. I'm full of hope. That tomorrow, I'll be stronger than today. ♫

Thinking About Christmas...

There was not a whole lot that I expected, or wanted, this year for Christmas. I was hoping for a simple day or two at home, with my parents. I had a few things that I really wanted. A couple of craft books, a crochet magazine subscription, and a scarf. Mostly, I was looking forward to some chili rellenos, and time with my parents. And I really wanted to go to Midnight Mass at our church.

It's almost been a month since Christmas. And honestly, this year, Christmas was a blur. I'm not even sure if I wished my Mom a Merry Christmas. I spent the early morning hours talking to my Dad, and praying. Usually I'm up wrapping presents until 4AM! And I had planned on going to Midnight Mass alone. But none of that happened.

It's all OK though. Because my Dad is OK. Minus the little sugar scare yesterday morning. He's honestly doing really well. Gaining strength with each passing day. And I guess being Diabetic Certified is coming in handy now. :) But honestly, Christmas came and went with little notice by me. Sad, but true. All that was on my mind, was getting my Dad healthy. And keeping my Mom calm.

A few years ago, I had a pretty sad Christmas too. Just some personal things that were going on. In the end, my parents and I enjoyed a quiet holiday together. Just the 3 of us. And after Christmas, we took a little road trip through the mountains. That was the year that taught me a lot about myself. For all sorts of reasons.

This year, I looked back on that simple holiday. I'm one of those people that usually write out 500 Christmas cards, bake enough cookies for the US Army, and decorate my house to look like a Christmas Wonderland. Christmas is truly one of my favorite times of year. I just love my religion, and this holiday is all about religion.

But that year, and this past year, it was different. I came home Wednesday, and I saw my sad decorations. Just a wreath on my door, and some bells on my front door. That's it!!! Not me at all! I never set up my Advent Wreath, or Nativity Scene set up. I didn't pick out a Christmas outfit, never finished my shopping, or started my baking, no Christmas cards were sent, and honestly, I think I wore a mismatched pair of sweats on Christmas Day. With snowflake socks, and the same pair of ballet flats that I wore for 2 weeks! I definitely didn't pack, to be home for almost a month.

This year, I definitely became closer to God. It was the first time that I was really scared about losing my Dad. Really scared! As a medical professional, I'm trained to handle tough cases. I've saved a life with a gun to my head. But when it's your parent, it's completely different. And when you see you Dad laying on the ground, bleeding from his head, turning blue, the entire world just stops.

I kept it together. For the most part. I had to. We don't have many people to lean on. And during those first few hours, all my Mom and I really had, was each other. And I needed to protect her. I was the strong one. The one that knew what was coming. The one that sent my Mom to the waiting room, and sat there with my Dad. Knowing that pain and even a bit of yelling was coming.

I anticipated those things. I protected my Mom. And I took care of my Dad. All those nights in the hospital, I stayed up. Talking to my Dad. Praying to God. Pleading with Patrick. Holding on to my faith. And just believing we'd all be OK. I cried. But not until late at night. When my Mom was asleep.

I'm almost positive that my Dad doesn't remember any of this. Or any of the conversations we had. I held tight to my faith. I prayed. I asked God for his grace, love, and strength. And I just held out hope.

We were very lucky. To have amazing people in our lives. Having some of the most amazing friends and family. Friends who are close to my heart. People that I feel closer to than my own family. Lots of prayers. From family and friends, near and far. People who visited every single day. Loved ones that were there for us, when we needed them the most. Whether it was the daily visit, the delicious food, the conversations, the support, or the love...it all meant so much!!!

And during this time, I really felt God's love. I have amazing friends here, that prayed for my Dad and our family. Friends who have never met my parents. They held special masses, said rosaries, and just prayed for us. So many people prayed. And through the power of prayer, love, and support...my Dad made it! :)

It's going to be a long recovery. It's an adjustment for my parents. But I'm just grateful to have my Dad back. He's making a recovery. And I'm so grateful for that. I'm literally speechless. God is Great!!!

This year, Christmas came almost a week late. No fancy dinner. No mass. Heck, I was still wrapping the few presents we had managed to buy one another. It took hours to get through our few gifts. You know, we had a break for a snack, and a little nap. But in the end, I was happy to be with my 2 parents. At home. And healthy.

Christmas isn't about presents, parties, shopping, big meals, or even actually attending mass. It's about those things we hold dear in our hearts. Celebrating Jesus Christ. Remembering what's important. The power of prayer. And the love of family and friends.

This year, the Christmas tree, lights, and all that wrapping paper didn't matter. I didn't watch a single Christmas movie. And I only had 1 relleno. Yes, 1! But I've never been so happy to sit in my parent's living room, listening to my parents sleep. Silly I know. But for us, this year, it really was the sound of pure bliss.

And after weeks at home, 2 trips to my home and back, lots of cooking, cleaning, and medical advice...I'm just happy to know my parents are doing well. Years from now, I'll look back on this holiday season, and remember all the love that I'm surrounded with. The people that truly love me and my family. The people that matter most. I'll remember how love really does conquer all. And that nothing is more important than religion.

Now, I need to get ready. I'm heading home for work. I'll be back by Sunday. To work out here. Honestly, I'm just excited to see my parents! It's been less than 48 hours since I've last seen them. And only 8 hours since we've talked on the phone. But honestly, I cherish every moment that we share. Happy Friday! ♫

Praying for My Daddy

Loving God,
you watch over each and every one of your children.
Hear my prayer for my father.
Be his constant companion.
Protect him no matter where he goes,
and bring him safely and quickly home to those who
love him.
We ask this through Christ our Lord.
Amen.

We have been so lucky. God has worked in some truly amazing ways. My Daddy is recovering. It looks as though, he's going to be OK. He's going to make it past all of this. God has given us all a second chance. One that I'm so grateful for!

I will still ask for your prayers. And all of your positive thoughts. It's going to be a long road. That much I know. Life is going to be a bit more complicated. We're going to need a few more patients. But we're grateful. Grateful for a second chance.

My family has been so blessed. With so many people, that love and care about us. With a steady, and constant flow of visitors. Such kind hearted people. And such a talented medical team. We're so grateful. Words can't describe just how much it's meant to us.

And for as tired as we are, we're happy. Beyond ecstatic! Just for a second chance. A few more days to fill with love and memories. Another shot at being a family. Yes, we're so excited!

It looks like my Dad should be released within the next few days. Like I said, he's getting better. It's going to take a while for him to recover. But my Mom and I, are just happy to have him. We're ready for the road to recovery, that lies in front of us. ♫

I Heart Boobies

It's October 1st. And a Friday at that. Which means, pink shirts and jeans. Yes, here at the hospital, we are big supporters of October. And all that it stands for in the medical community. Because we HEART women, and boobies. :)



Cases and cases of these amazing bracelets were delivered. And lots of events have been planned. We're ready. Everyday we see and meet women battling Breast Cancer. But this month, we get to celebrate them. And help the fight. We're spreading the word. And I hope that you join us in wearing pink every Friday this month! ♫

Weird Dreams

I've been having the most insane dreams for weeks now. And because I'm not feeling well, I think they're becoming more insane. I finally fell asleep sometime before 10AM. I know J is trying to be quiet. Which is insane. This is his house. And it's ginormous! He could have a party on one side, and I'd never hear a thing!

Anyway, I got about 2 hours worth of sleep. And I woke up, suddenly, and completely sweaty. Ugh! But the dream was so weird. We'll just say it was about a guy we'll call "Cowboy."

I was a teacher. In a school downtown. Where? I have no clue. Maybe my hometown? I lived in a apartment building about 2-3 blocks from the school. Because I would walk to work every day. My apartment was small. A typical "city" apartment. And my parents lived across the street from me. In a ginormous penthouse apartment.

So here I am, going to work. I'm teaching little kids. Maybe 1st graders? And I really like my job. Then boom! I'm 9 months pregnant. And I'm married to "Cowboy."

*So I know this person in real life. But we're not close. We know each other because of other people. We've maybe talked briefly, twice in the last 2 years.*

Anyway, we're married. And happy. In our little apartment. He has some kind of good job, because he has to wear a suit to work every single day. So at this point, I'm not working. But I get up early to iron his clothes and make him breakfast. Hello! 1950's housewife at your service. :)

On this one particular day, he doesn't want to go to work. But I insist. I'm OK. The baby is not coming anytime soon. And I make plans to go shopping with my Mom and my Auntie. Completely out there. Since I haven't seen my Auntie in months! I know, we talked briefly last week. But we've never done anything like this.

Somehow, we end up at my favorite Mexican restaurant. Um, that's a good hour from where I live. But we end up there. And we have this delicious meal. And I go into labor. Somehow my Cowboy husband makes it on time for the birth of our baby. We had a girl. And when we go home a few days later, we live in the middle of the nearby mountains.

It's beautiful. The house is ginormous. And it's so peaceful. Everything is perfect. All the things I have been dreaming about doing to my own house, this house had. It was such a weird dream. I woke up when we put our little girl to sleep.

It was such a weird dream. But I've been having lots of dreams recently about pregnancy. Is my body screaming at me? Telling me that the clock is ticking? I don't know. But um, it ain't happening anytime soon.

I'm not feeling any better from my earlier post. In fact, I know have bright red cheeks. And I feel so hot. But I don't have a temperature. And, I feel a lot weaker. I think I'm just going to stay here. In this nice white and comfy bed. I also feel safer. Knowing that someone is here. Because I'm still having issues breathing. I know, I should go to the doctor already... ♫

Feeling Horrible

I've actually been eating raw since Monday. And it's helped a little. OK, so I cheated on Monday and had some enchiladas too. But since then, I've been trying really hard.

But yesterday morning, I woke up feeling horrible. Around 2AM, I woke up and couldn't feel my arms or hands. It was that feeling like when your leg falls asleep. And there was shooting pain. I couldn't do anything to relieve it. It was horrible. So I got up. I sat outside for hours. It wouldn't go away.

Eventually, I had to get on with my day. I had a lot to do. And a lot of work that had to be done. Important stuff that only I know how to do. That's what happens when you work for your friend. But I managed to get it done.

I also noticed I was having a hard time breathing. Like it was a heck of a lot more labored. I was really having to think about it. It was horrible! So when I came home around 6PM, I called my parents. But the night just didn't go as planned. And I was here alone trying to figure out what to do.

This scared the crap out of me. A few times, I really struggled to catch my breathe. It was horrible and frightening. So I came back to J's house. I figured that he would eventually come home. And even his dogs were better company than being home alone. Because what if something horrible happened. How long would it take someone to find me? Yes, I was that scared.

J came home late. He was finishing up a cattle ranch inspection. But I could tell that he was immediately scared by the way I looked. Believe me, it scared me too. And my friend begged me to go to the hospital. But I refused. For so many reasons. I figured, I could make it through the night.

I didn't sleep much last night. And everything hurts. From my forearms down, there is so much pain. My breathing got a little easier. But it really does hurt my chest to breathe. I'm wondering what's up. So if you're wondering here are my symptoms.

1. An achy body.
2. Numb/painful forearms and hands.
3. Increased heart rate.
4. Labored breathing.
5. Feeling of a full bladder. But there is nothing in there.
6. Inability to sleep.

I don't know what is wrong. And like a typical health care worker, I'm refusing to go to the doctor. I'm just grateful for my friend J. He's been great. Did I mention he is a veterinarian? So he thinks he knows how to check all my vitals. I silently assume that he's called one of the doctor's I work with. He doesn't live far from J's. Let's see if today is a better day. ♫

Eating Raw

I decided to eat "raw" this week. Nothing crazy. I'm not going on any diets. I don't have an eating disorder. But I've been feeling horrible. And my allergies have been so bad.

All of this reminded me of an article that I read in the JAMA. About eating raw for a week. It cleans everything out. So I'm giving it a try. I have lots of fruits and veggies on hand. Something that is not the "norm" around here. Because seriously, they're so expensive!

I'm going to eat 1 fruit, veggie, or type of nut about every hour. Ugh! I never eat this much. But I need to try something. I feel like I belong in the gutter right now. Why do I feel so sick? I'm hoping this works. Another rain storm would be a good thing too! ♫

Shorts.

These are everyone's summer essentials. Shorts. Me, I haven't worn shorts, in public, for over 9 years! Yes, I'm 27 years old. I'm anywhere between a size 3-7 depending on what's going on. And I don't wear shorts. Did I mention...I live in the desert southwest. Here, it's easily over 100 degrees for almost 60 days a year!

Why don't I wear shorts? Um, I'm not really sure. Maybe because my legs are white as sin. Yes, I know, wearing shorts would help. But when you go from white to red to white, it's horrible! I've never been tan in my life! And then, my legs. I'm just not crazy about them. Sure, I workout a lot. I've got some cute muscular calves. But my thighs. Ugh! I've never liked them. Not when I was 16 years old and a cheerleader. With little to no body fat. Not now at 27 with a trainer that kicks my butt!

So there you go. Me and my evil enemy...shorts. I do wear pj shorts to sleep in. I really enjoy my old cheerleading shorts for working out at home. Never at the gym! But not even in my own yard, do I feel comfortable enough to wear shorts. It's something that I need to get over ASAP. You know, being that it was a cool 101 degrees yesterday. Oh, and the temperature is on the rise again! ♫

SPF and Summer

It's almost summer. In fact, if you listen to Big M, it is summer. Whatever. We've already hit triple digits here. And my sunblock is as much a part of me, as breathing. I'm not lying! Here's a quick run down...



I use Neutrogena Healthy Defense for Sensitive skin. It has an SPF of 50. And I use it for my neck and face every single day! It's a moisturizer. And even on those days that I don't wear makeup, I use this.



I also use this Neautrogena product every single day. You see, I have sensitive skin. That burns extremely fast. And it's painful. So in the morning, I slap on some Neutrogena Ultra Sheer in SPF 85. Yes, SPF 85 baby!



The last sunblock that I use is Bull Frog Sport in SPF 50. I've used this since my cheerleading days. When we would bake in the sun during our "3 a days." It was horrible! But this sunblock, helped to make it a little more bearable. And because it is a Sport Sunblock, it is sweat and waterproof. And we even applied it to our cracks. Get your mind out of the gutter. I'm talking about our hair parts from our silly double french braids. Yes, your scalp gets burnt too!

And with all sunblocks, you need to reapply. The 1st one, well it's good all day. Under makeup. But if you're sweating and playing in the water, I would reapply. At least once every 90 minutes. The body sunblocks, definitely you need to reapply every 90 minutes!

I use the Bullfrog when I'm doing yard work, or working out outside. You know, when you're sweating. Another great product that Bullfrog makes is a bug repellent sunblock. Good stuff! Don't forget your sunblock. Especially if you're as white as I am! And try and eat some tomatoes every day. They're "Nature's Sunblock." :) ♫

I Ruined My Dress!

Tonight, I wore a lot of dresses. We do quick changes backstage. Thank goodness for my 2 friends that help me! The minute I leave the stage, my shoes go flying off. We have this fabric tube like thing that I crawl into and I start taking off whatever in the heck I'm wearing. C gives me my next outfit. And I climb into it. I usually have them drop the tube thing I'm in at about this time. C will zipper me in and get my next pair of shoes on. While I'm changing jewelry. M fixes my hair and makeup. Then I'm running back onstage.

Over the years, we've gotten good. So good, a quick change is somewhere between 2-3 minutes! That is what it was supposed to be like tonight. Supposed to be. I don't have a picture of my dress, and I'm not about to take one now. I might cry. These were the closest I could find online. But my dress was made out of a beautiful satin. Not the cheap kind that most wedding dresses are made out of. But a gorgeous and rich fabric. The kind that is a few $100 a yard! My dress had a rather deep sweetheart neckline, and hit somewhere between mid-thigh and my knee.





This was not the first time I wore this dress. In fact, I've had it since October. The last time we came to NC. I have the dress in about 8 colors. It was custom made. After my boss saw something like it, he had C hand make these dresses. Yes, more than one. The white one, somehow was my boss' favorite. And that was what I was supposed to wear tonight when we sang 1 of our duets. With the Christian Louboutin shoes. What the heck! This outfit costs more than my tuition for a semester! We're not even going to talk about the jewelry I was wearing. There is a reason why I have a bodyguard...

Just as M is doing the finishing touches on my makeup. Shoes are on and I'm heading back to the stage, I feel a trickle. A trickle of blood coming from my nose. OMG! I had the worst nose bleed ever tonight! My boss sees me. Arms covered in blood. He picks me up and takes me to a couch in my dressing room. I lay down. And for 30 minutes my nose bleed! I don't know what the band played. But whatever, they know enough songs without me!

The entire front of my dress was covered in blood. I'm not sure if it's the change of climate, the crazy weather here, my allergies, or the heat in the club. But it was pretty bad. At one point, my boss called Dr. P backstage to take a look at me. I think they were all getting concerned. And as quickly as the blood came, it stopped. They gave me some juice, I took one of my iron pills, and Dr. P took my vitals. I was OK.

So I cleaned up and changed into a red dress. Identical to the white one. My boss and I made it to our spots. The lights went off, and we carried on with the show. At the end of "Need You Now" my boss gave me a big hug, a kiss on the check, and managed to whisper in my ear. I didn't take his offer to bow out gracefully and take the rest of the night off. I was there to work. And I finished the show with the band. Nose bleed free. Now I'm off to sleep. Because I'm exhausted! ♫

Please Pray

Today Auntie Ronnie was taken to the hospital. I don't really know what's going on. I just know that is where she is. My parents didn't know a whole lot either. But it sounds like to me that she had a stroke.

I'm asking for some prayers for her. Remember her when you're saying you bedtime prayers. Or if you just have a spare minute. Behind my Auntie C, my Auntie Ronnie is the closest Aunt that I have. I remember so many great memories of her and my Uncle John. They lived next door to us when I was young. And we we're close. I can tell you about all the silly things she does. And how every single morning, Jonathon and I would get a waffle floating in syrup. Yes, I LOVE spending time with her. :)

I just can't bare to lose another family member. It's getting a little crazy in my family. So please pray for my Auntie. I know that no matter what, she is going to have a long recovery in her future. Please keep her in your prayers. ♫